Salvatore

12. Salvatore

12

SALVATORE

I drag her off the counter as she grabs her cell.

I’m sure it’s for safety. The false perception of protection.

Good . I’m glad she doesn’t feel safe with me. Especially considering the thoughts that ravaged my mind as I watched her come undone.

She’s so fucking beautiful. A masterpiece of dark lashes and fierce spirit capable of inspiring madness in the strongest of men. And I, unfortunately, am not immune.

“Wrap your legs around me,” I demand.

She raises a brow, almost defiant, but clamps those thighs around my hips, the hem of her dress hitching up to her ass while I stalk for the hall.

If I lowered my gaze, I’d see that pretty pink pussy as I take the staircase leading to the second level. I bet she glistens like a fucking peach. But if I look, I won’t make it to my bedroom, and I refuse to fuck her against the carpet-covered stairs.

I want her in my bed. Beneath me. Pinned.

There aren’t enough hours left in the day to get through the things I want to do to her. I’m dying to claim more of her provocative moans. To feel that slick cunt clamp around my dick.

“You seem lost in thought, ninito .” Her tone is derogatory as she delicately drags her nails along my nape. “Are you concerned your package won’t live up to my standards?”

I smirk. “Fucking terrified.”

If she can lie, so can I.

Not only am I unconcerned about any aspect of my package, I also fucking love her attempts to emasculate me.

Maybe it’s because I see through her bullshit. The effortlessness of reading between her lines is a delight after a lifetime spent second-guessing the people I should trust most.

Then again, it could be the addictive drug of triggering the defensiveness of such a ball-buster of a woman. How she must feel the need to belittle me to keep her armor in place.

Either way, I fucking foam at the mouth for this shit.

“Your ego may not survive this exchange.” She drags her nails down my neck, making my skin dance beneath her touch. “Will I be killed for slaughtering the underboss’s pride?”

For starters, I’m not an underboss. She’ll soon learn I’m the heir to the throne. But her death has been in the back of my mind for a week. I’ve imagined giving the order. Visualized her lifeless body.

At one point I’d come to terms with it. Had written it off as an inevitability.

Now things have changed.

“I’ve killed for far less.” I reach the bed, her seductress eyes blinking at me as she unwraps her flawless legs from around my waist and kneels on my black cashmere duvet. “The thing is—” I kick off my shoes and toe them away, my gaze not leaving hers. “—it’s impossible for you to touch my pride when you’ve willingly climbed into my bed.”

Her smile is sly. A touché expression if ever I’ve seen one.

It’s fucking stunning, the curve of lips having a direct line to my dick.

I want to do filthy things to that mouth.

To claim it. Taint it. Brand it as mine.

She dumps her cell on the bed, then grasps the lapels of my jacket, those black nails stark against my white shirt as she holds the material apart. “You know, I actually thought you’d be more chiseled.”

No, she didn’t.

When I can’t sleep I spend the midnight hours in the gym downstairs, and lately I’ve been an award-winning insomniac. But I’ll let her have her fun.

I love the way her hungry eyes eat up the sight of me as she trails delicate fingers over my pecs, then my abs, to my belt. The contrast is striking. The lust-filled scrutiny. The gentle touch. The poison poised on her tongue.

She unclasps my belt. Slow. Methodical.

She’s trying to torture me, and she’s fucking succeeding.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” she asks.

“We’ll soon see.” I tense, every muscle aching while I wait for those dark eyes to lower and take in the adamant bulge she’ll be working with.

Instead, she holds my gaze as she glides my zipper down, one torturously slow inch at a time. She’s doing her best not to touch me. To ignore my cock as if the shun will knock me down a peg.

It does.

The fact she can ignore the part of me that’s dying to have her is maddening.

I want her eyeballing my dick. Salivating over it. Fucking gagging on it as the tip teases the back of her throat.

“It’s not too late to cut and run.” Her words are a teasing whisper. “I don’t think you’re the type to recover from an ego assassination, ninito .”

Call me little one more time, mi bella reina.

Just one more fucking time.

I yank off my jacket. Shuck my shirt. Then shove down my boxer briefs and trousers, kicking them off at the ankles.

“Give me your worst,” I growl.

She raises a haughty brow I’m tempted to wipe from her face with a kiss so harsh and unyielding she has to fight for breath. But I keep myself in check. My fingers idle at my sides. My dick politely still while hard as fucking stone.

Finally, she lowers her gaze to look down her nose at the package she’s eager to alienate.

It’s such a stunning sight—her widening eyes, her mouth becoming ajar.

She swallows.

“Am I still a little boy , Ivy?”

She continues to stare at my cock, lashes blinking, viperous mouth silenced.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” I wrap a hand around the back of her neck and yank her face to mine. I need those lips. Her panted breaths.

“Wait.” She plasters her palms against my chest. “I’m not sure my health insurance will cover a punctured lung.”

I smirk into her mouth. “Be careful, troublemaker. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

She shakes her head, our noses rubbing. “I assure you it’s not. Being impaled by the Washington fucking Monument isn’t any woman’s dream. I’d like to be able to retain my ability to walk, sir.”

“You can handle it.”

“Well, I’m certainly no quitter, but?—”

I silence her with a kiss, my tongue demanding entrance, those nails of hers lightly curling into my skin as she moans. “This dress has to go.”

She nods, our noses brushing, her lips hungrily beseeching mine.

I lower my hand an inch from her neck and find the zipper, dragging it to the base of her spine. I slide the material off her shoulders. Guide it down her body. Let it pool at her knees.

Not once do I stop kissing her. At least not until she palms my dick and drags her hand along my shaft.

I hiss through my teeth at the pleasure.

“Don’t tell me I’m the David to your Goliath,” she purrs against my lips. “Will one swift stroke take down this unruly monster?”

“With that smart mouth, anything’s possible.” I grab her hips and haul her toward the pillows, guiding her to straddle my lap as I rest back against the headboard.

She comes willingly, settling against my thighs in nothing but a black lace bra, all smooth curves and perfect skin except for the trimmed strip of curls at the apex of her thighs.

I’ve never seen a woman so flawless. Not on socials or television.

She’s fucking breathtaking. A goddess that shouldn’t be desecrated.

Too bad I’m not morally righteous.

“Like what you see?” She eyes me, lazily dragging off her heels and discarding them on the floor.

“You’re stunning.” I have no need to withhold compliments like she does. Especially when her confidence is her most captivating attribute. “And you’ll look even better riding my dick.”

Her lips quirk as she glances down at my cock. “I’m not sure that’s something that can be ridden.”

Sometimes it isn’t.

Women have given up in the past. The length too much. The girth too painful to accommodate. I’d let Ivy walk if she decided she didn’t want to try. But I’d also pay millions to watch my dick sink inside her.

“Show me you can take it.” I grab her ass, dragging her toward my crotch.

Her breath hitches, and she grasps my shoulders for stability. “Is that seriously achievable? Has that thing been conquered before?”

I’m about to respond when she claps a hand over my mouth. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to hear about your conquests.”

I grin behind her palm.

Jealousy looks good on her. Hell, given the warm buzz of whiskey in my veins, anything would look fucking phenomenal on this woman—anger, disgust, maybe even sadness.

I want to see her in every shade. With every emotion.

I nip at her palm until she pulls her hand away. “There’ve been no conquests lately. I’m clean.” I glide her soaked pussy along my length, holding in a groan at the exquisite feel of her.

“Holy hell.” She shudders.

“There’s no way that slick cunt can’t take me.” I slide her back and forth over my shaft, the need to have her growing out of my control.

She moans, her head falling back as she licks her bottom lip then rakes her teeth over the moistened flesh. She takes charge, slowly rolling her hips, sliding against me of her own accord.

It’s torture. Pure agony.

I dig my fingers into her ass, a growl building in my chest, the pressure growing in my veins. I could fucking come like this. Simply rubbing against her. Nutting on my own goddamn gut.

If she isn’t careful, I will.

Her breathing turns ragged, those delicate fingers finding my nape and dragging me forward as she leans back. She directs my face to her chest, my mouth to those phenomenal tits.

“Kiss me,” she demands, unlatching her bra with one hand.

There’s no denying her.

She could have my dick in a vise and my balls in a shredder and I’d still willingly bury myself in her cleavage.

I claw at her bra straps, dragging them down her arms, then latch onto a pebbled nipple with force. She cries out, her thighs clenching around my hips, that pussy halting its smooth progression.

“Don’t fucking stop,” I warn.

She whimpers and glides a hand between us, grabbing my cock. I feel the touch everywhere. From my shaft to my balls, right down to my fucking toes.

I hold my breath as she raises onto her knees, then lose every ounce of oxygen in my lungs as she lowers onto me.

She takes my dick with parted lips and lust-drunk eyes.

“Fuck, you feel good.” I suck on her tit. Fist her fucking ass. If she goes any slower I’m going to come before she sinks to the hilt. “Tell me you love my dick stretching that sweet pussy.”

She shudders around me, body flushed, breaths increasing. “I’ve had better.”

“No, you fucking haven’t.” I palm her tits. Licking. Sucking.

Her nails scour the back of my neck, her slick heat taking me farther. She doesn’t stop. It’s one smooth, effortless glide as her body welcomes me the closest I’ve come to heaven.

“Your dick…” She gasps. “It’s…”

“Fucking hard.” I lick. “And thick.” I suck. “And goddamn made for you.”

She finally reaches the hilt, and I close my eyes against her chest, battling the need to pump into her.

“Tell me you love it,” I growl.

She moans, undulating against me, eager for more.

“Tell me, Ivy.”

Her breathing becomes ragged as her hips rock back and forth, her pace increasing as she takes my dick like a pro. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She leans forward, forcing me back against the headboard, her chest brushing mine, her lips on my neck as she whispers, “This feels horrible.”

I wrap my arms around her, tight, restrictive. “You know, Pinocchio’s nose grew whenever he lied but I think in your case you just get more fucking wet.”

She groans, grinding into me, not denying the truth.

“You love my dick, troublemaker.”

She rocks harder, faster, hugging my shoulders, her face buried in my neck.

Just once I want to hear her say it. To admit the fucking truth.

“Tell me you enjoy it.” I match her rhythm, careful not to impale her as I pump my hips. “Because you look fucking stunning riding my cock.”

She kisses my skin. Licks. “Oh, Adam, you feel incredible.”

I stiffen, rock solid, entirely frozen. “What the fuck did you just call me?” I fist her ponytail and pull her head back until I see her face.

She moans. Smiles.

Witch .

I tug her again, forcing her neck to arch as I lean in to her ear, my dick still balls deep inside her. “I said, what the fuck did you just call me?”

Her throat works over a heavy swallow, her nipples pebbled against my chest. “I’m sorry.” She focuses on the headboard, struggling to hide her humor. “I must have been thinking of someone else.”

She’s lying.

I fucking know she is. Or she’d better be.

If there’s another man in this bed with us, I’ll find him, and he’ll be dead before the day’s out.

I grip her chin, forcing those playful eyes to mine. “You know my fucking name, troublemaker.” I give one final tug of her hair, then release my grip and pull my dick from her heat. “But I’ll make sure you never forget.”

She whimpers with my retreat, then bites back a squeal as I haul her off my lap and flip her toward the mattress. I dump her on all fours, the bed still bouncing as I slide a hand down her spine, pushing her head to the duvet while leaving her beautiful ass up in the air. “What’s my name, Ivy?”

She shudders, the flawless skin of her back awash with goose bumps. “Is it Mark?”

I snarl a laugh.

Given her submissive position I would’ve thought she’d quit playing Fuck Around and Find Out, but here we are, me with my cock aching to unload while that pretty pussy taunts me with its perfection.

“That’s disappointing.” I slide a finger through her folds, a barely there touch she attempts to back into. “Do you want to try again?”

She whimpers. “Noah?”

I clench my teeth, dying to be back inside her. “This can take as long as you like.” I lightly circle her clit. “But I promise you won’t come again until you say my name.”

“Grant,” she pants. “Levi?… Matthew?”

I see red, nothing but antagonism personified in the shape of an undeniable seductress. “Call me by my brother’s name again and I swear this pussy will live to regret it.” I glide my cock against her slit, one agonizing slide of friction. “I could easily come like this. Could you?”

She mewls, wiggling her ass as if trying to navigate my dick back inside her.

“That’s not going to work.” I lean over her. “You don’t get this cock unless you say my name.”

“I can live without it.”

“Really?” I circle the tip at her entrance, over and over, making sure not to penetrate as my restraint waivers. “Then maybe I should deny you.”

Her ass clenches. Thighs too.

She glances at me over her shoulder, her eyes panicked.

I lower my attention to her pussy. “One more stroke while staring at this masterpiece and I’ll be done. Is that what you want?”

She whines. “Okay. Fine… Salvatore .”

“Say it again.”

“ Please , Salvatore.”

“Tell me you want my cock.”

She buries her face in the duvet. “I want your cock. Okay ? I want it. I fucking need it. Just please hurry.”

I impale her, sliding to the hilt, almost dying with the surge of exhilaration.

She arches her back and cries out, that pussy damn near strangling my length.

I pound into her. Hard thrusts. Muscles tensed. “Keep saying it or this stops.”

“ Fuck , Salvatore.” Her hands claw the bedcovering. “ Yes , please, Salvatore… right there.”

Over and over she says my name. Pleading syllables. Beseeching moans.

“You’d better be ready to come.” I fist her hair and gently pull, still fucking her as I guide her to straighten against me.

I hold her, fastening her back to my chest, one hand on her hip, the other arm weaving around her ribs, past her sternum to grasp her tit. “Say my name as that perfect pussy milks my cock.”

She mewls, resting the back of her head on my shoulder, her hips working overtime as the moistened slapping of flesh fills the room. “I’m close, you son of a bitch.”

I grin against her neck, running my nose along the delicate length. “You can call me Salvatore or God. Those are your only two options.” I release her hip, my fingers delving between her thighs to brush her clit.

She jolts, her pussy spasming. “ Oh, God .”

I snicker against her skin. There’s no way she meant to comply. “Good girl. Now show me how much you love my dick.”

She reaches for me, her fingers threading in my hair, her grip pulling tight. “Salvatore, I’m…”

I pump harder. Faster.

“Salvatore,” she pants. “Sal…va…” Her back arches, her breasts thrusting skyward.

I’m blindsided by the fisted grip her pussy claims around my cock. My balls tighten. There’s nothing but sheer determination stopping me from spilling inside her.

I tense against the pleasure. Close my eyes to the visual onslaught.

“Tell me when you’re done.” I grate through clenched teeth.

I’m not going to make it. I’m going to fucking blow.

“Sal…” She pulls tighter on my hair. “I’m…” Her breathing shudders. Her body loosens. “I’m…” She pants. Once. Twice. Then her shoulders slump against me. “I-I’m done.”

Fuck.

I pull out, still palming her cunt as I fist my dick and explode against her back.

The gratification is blinding, each burst of cum mind-numbing while my lips remain on her skin, her sweat on my tongue, the fucking brilliance of her choked breaths in my ears.

I paint her olive skin with my seed, the rivulets sliding toward her ass.

I should’ve come inside her. Would’ve killed to have her pussy take my load.

What the fuck?

I scowl, struck dumb at the idiocy.

This woman is a fucking drug. A fixation that isn’t sated with each new interaction. It seems the more I have her, the less control I have over my cravings.

Even now that I’m spent, I can’t stop holding her to me, one hand on her sex, the other on her hip. Possessive. Claiming. Not only drunk from the liquor but the intoxication of her.

It’s a problem. One I’ll allow myself to enjoy for the next few minutes as we collapse onto the mattress before I need to sever ties.

She releases my hair and slumps back against me, breathless, her chest heaving. “That was unexpected.”

I raise my fingers from her pussy, painting her abdomen in the pleasure coating my fingertips, committing her curves to memory and becoming increasingly obsessed with all the smooth lines and soft skin. “I fucking dare you to forget it, mi reina. ”