39. ANTONIO
Fuck, that was just what I needed.
When I saw Scarlet standing in the doorway, I worried my temper eruption would send her flying to the woods. Instead, she attacked me and demanded sex. If I weren't already totally, irrevocably infatuated with her, this would have done it.
"Are you okay?" I ask after my body finally distributes my blood back where it goes, and I'm able to form a coherent thought.
Worriedly, I stare at her abused hips. They were already bruised before we started this. But damn if my handprints on her skin don't make me hard again. I love seeing my fucking mark on her.
"I'm fine," she stretches underneath me, her breasts move with her deliciously, and my cock hardens more, still inside her.
I lean forward and suck on a stiff nipple, causing her to let out a small moan, then I redistribute my weight and free one hand to brush against the outline of her other perfect breast. Small tremors move underneath her skin.
Slowly and carefully, I move back and forward inside her.
"You're going to make me come again," she says with a soft smile.
"That's the idea, passerotta," I inform her, moving in and out.
"That feels so good." She closes her eyes.
"Look at me," I demand. I need to see her come this time. I want to watch the expressions on her face, watch her nostrils flare and her lips peel back in ecstasy.
Her eyes open, and dark sapphire stares up at me. So deep. Deeper than the deepest ocean. I'm going to lose myself in them. I know it. Sense it with every fiber of my being, but fuck, what a way to go.
A raspy sound escapes her throat, almost like a purr, as I keep my slow tempo up and roll my hips to reach that fabled spot deep inside her. And there it is. Her nostrils flare, and her lips peel back as another keening sound moves through her.
"That's it, baby, let me see you come," I encourage.
"Ah, shit… yes… I am," she pants.
I grab her breast, massage it, and use my thumb to play with her nipple. Her eyes roll back as she stiffens under me, and her walls begin to massage my cock. That's all it needed. I come for a second time in the span of an hour—something I haven't done since I was a teenager.
She is such a beautiful mess underneath me. Her chest is heaving, her breath coming out quickly, her eyes wide and dilated. Her face is framed by the most gorgeous halo of brown hair, and her lips are still swollen from our kisses.
This was exactly what I needed.
Slowly, reality penetrates our consciousness.
"… in what has become the trial of the century…" the reporter's voice drones on from the TV.
"Antonio, what happened?" Scarlet cranes her neck to see the TV, and regretfully, I pull out of her and help her to her feet.
I pull a few tissues from the dispenser and gently clean the mess we made between her legs.
She angles for her panties and pulls them up.
Her blouse and bra, however, are ruined, and she clasps them closed in front of her chest. An image of a baby being pressed against her instead of the ruined clothes heats my insides.
Fuck I want that. That would put my mark on her.
"Antonio?"
For a moment there, I was lost. I send a wicked grin at her and point at the ruined clothes.
"Pity, I liked that one. I'll have to get you a new one," I remark, liking even now how the gold of the blouse complements the lighter brown tones of her hair.
"Or maybe a dozen. I liked the way they ripped, too. "
She doesn't reply, only stares at me. And damn that look could make the most hardened criminal cower. I know what she wants, so with a sigh, I close my zipper and pour us each a glass of whiskey.
"Your father," I nearly spit his name, handing her the drink, "was supposed to get me the names of the jurors Carlos bought. Instead, he decided to sequester them." Never has the word sequester left such a sour taste in my mouth.
"Oh." Scarlet's pretty little forehead wrinkles as her sharp mind goes through the consequences of her father's actions.
"If Carlos threatened those people's families, it won't matter if they're sequestered or not…" I wait for her to come to the final conclusion. "Unless…" her eyes widen, searching mine, "he wants Carlos to get off."
"Bingo," I reply dryly, emptying the whiskey in one long swallow.
"Why would he want…" Scarlet shakes her head. "He doesn't know you and I…" Fearlessly, she stares at me. "He doesn't know that you won't hurt me."
I nod and pour another drink. She'll need it.
"So he's willing to… risk…" As the whole truth dawns on her, she downs her glass, and I hand her mine. "I don't understand. He came to you to save me; why would he risk you hurting or killing me now?"
"That's the ten-million-dollar question." I refill her glass and sip from it.
Scarlet sinks into the cushioned chair, and the hand holding her blouse closed trembles. I walk over to her and squeeze her shoulder. "I need you to be strong, and I need you to call your father."
With my free hand, I hold out the phone for her, and she takes it. "What… what should I say?"
Mercilessly, I hold her gaze, "That you don't understand why he did this, that you're scared, and that I had a temper fit." I shrug. "Embellish the truth."
She is clearly shaken up, but she takes the phone. I've already pulled the number up for her. All she has to do is tap the call button. "Put it on speaker."
The moment it rings, she does.
"Antonio? Where is?—"
"Dad?" Scarlet interrupts.
"Sweetheart. Scarlet! Are you okay?"
She sniffs. "Not really. What's going on, Dad?"
"You're listening in, DeLuna?"
"I'm here, Lambert," I confirm, glad we're off first-name basis. I didn't like him calling me Antonio. "What the fuck?"
"I had to do this. A juror came to me. She was scared to death. Threats were made to her and her family?—"
"You know that sequestering them doesn't save their families, right?" I interrupt darkly.
"I do. They don't."
What the fuck is he playing at ?
"Listen, Antonio. " Back to first names; I sigh. “Don't hurt my daughter. You have to trust me."
"Trusting you is the very last thing I'm going to do," I reply.
"Just give me a few days, a week, and this will all be over. I've ordered this trial fast-tracked. They're keeping everyone in solitary confinement. Even me."
"This is one giant fuckup, Lambert," I growl. "Give me their names." I don't explain whose. He knows damn well that I'm talking about the compromised jurors.
"Don't run any more interference on this, Antonio. I've got this under cont?—"
"The fuck I won’t," I yell. "The names. By tomorrow morning, or I'll send you a piece of your daughter."
"Daddy," Scarlet says, but I snatch the phone from her hand and hang up. She stares at me with wide-open eyes.
"I'm not going to hurt you, passerotta," I reassure her because, despite her bravery, I see a spark of fear in her eyes.
She surprises me again. "I know, but you'll have to get a piece of me from somewhere, right? That means some innocent woman…"
She trails off, and I pull her into my arms, touched by her empathy. "They're never innocent, passerotta, trust me."