13. Roman
CHAPTER 13
ROMAN
I throw off the comforter, jumping out of the bed and grabbing my gun off the nightstand. I stumble in the darkness, stubbing my toe against the leg of a chair. I swallow a yelp, creeping toward the door with my hand outstretched. I pull it open, careful not to make a sound since I have no fucking clue what the hell is happening beyond my bedroom.
Luckily, there isn’t any more screaming.
Sounds like tortured sobs have replaced the piercing shrieks that just jolted me from the X-rated dream I was having about my gorgeous captive.
I take a step out of my room and turn my head in the direction of the crying.
“What the fuck is that?”
My heart jumps, the force practically launching me off the floor. “Dante, for fuck’s sake!” I say in a loud whisper, pointing my gun at him.
He throws up his hands, jumping backward. “Jesus Christ!”
“I could have shot you, moron!”
Dante grins. “Eh, you’d have missed. Besides, why the hell do you need the gun? The alarm didn’t go off. Your girlfriend just had a nightmare.”
“She’s my hostage, dammit!” I whisper-shout.
“Yeah, but you still have a hard-on for her,” he teases. “Don’t try to deny it.”
I roll my eyes. “Go back to bed.”
“I’m hungry,” he whispers. “I didn’t eat before I passed out. I want a snack.”
“Can I please check things out without having you on my ass?” I hiss. “Go back to bed!”
“You know, being a murderous kidnapper has turned you into more of a prick than you already were.”
“You wanna see murderous?” I growl. “Then stick around!”
Dante lets out a soft snicker. “Okay, okay. Go ‘comfort’ your girlfriend. Then when you’re done, I’ll invade your fridge.”
“You already did that, by the way,” I mutter as he backs into his room.
I sweep a hand through my hair, dropping the hand with the gun clutched in it. He’s right. There’s no intruder. I’m being overly paranoid right now.
This kidnapping shit is new for me.
Usually I just slash and walk.
I can usually rid myself of my victims pretty fast.
This one will be with me for a while. And I’ve already pissed her off enough for one night. After she stormed out of the kitchen, I heard the shower in the bathroom run for a good half an hour. Then, silence.
Not even a single bark.
I figured she let Bella into my room to shit in the rest of my sneakers but surprisingly, they were spared. Of course, she might have hidden a little steaming surprise for later.
It’s what I would’ve done in her position.
I hold out my fist and softly knock on the door before pushing it open a crack.
I can see Marchella’s silhouette as she stands by the window, staring out at the moonlit sky.
She turns with a gasp, the beams of light dancing on top of her dark hair like a halo.
The angel and the devil.
How friggin’ ironic.
“You okay?” I say in a low voice, my eyes adjusting to the darkness.
She stares at me, tears streaming from her eyes as she shakes her head. “No. I haven’t been okay in a really long time, as a matter of fact.”
I take a tentative step into the room, then stop short as Bella leaps to her feet and growls at me from the foot of the bed.
I furrow my brow. She’s staring at me like she wants to tear me to shreds with her sharp little chompers and I have to admit, even though she’s tiny, that guttural sound makes me take a step back.
I hear a hint of a giggle and sneak a glance at Marchella. Despite her sniffles and tear-streaked face, she’s actually smiling. The sight makes my dick tingle.
Ah, shit.
I guess I am that twisted.
“She doesn’t like you.”
I lift an eyebrow. “I’m an acquired taste.”
“In other words, if at first you have to choke it down, sputtering and gagging, try, try again?”
My lips curl upward. “I’ve never had any complaints about anyone choking anything down.”
She lets out a frustrated huff, turning back to the window. “You’re gross.”
“Yeah, but in a few days, you might actually find me tolerable. It can happen just like that.” I snap my fingers.
“Right now, I find you insufferable,” she whispers. “I don’t understand why you couldn’t let me call Frankie. He was hurt badly and you wouldn’t even let me check on him.”
“Chella—”
She spins around, holding up a finger. “No, don’t call me that. We’re not friends. Only my friends call me that.”
“I don’t want to be your enemy,” I say, stepping forward and risking Bella’s wrath. “I never did.”
“You created this situation, Roman.” She sniffles. “You don’t get to choose how I feel about you!”
“I’m trying to do my?—”
“Your job,” she snips. “Yeah, yeah. I know all about it. Your loyalty. Sorry to pile on more work for you.”
“You know, I did a very nice fucking thing when I went to get that mutt off the streets.”
“Yeah, it was nice,” she says. “And what was your motive, huh? Because let’s face it, guys like you always have one.”
“I didn’t have an agenda,” I grunt. “I didn’t need to go into that shithole neighborhood and get my goddamn car busted up! I went to do a nice thing!”
Her brow furrows. “Your car got busted up?”
I lean against the wall. “Yeah. Some guys broke into it and stole my stereo. They were about to steal my battery and rims, too, before the cops showed up.”
She lets out a chuckle. “Serves you right. Ever hear of karma?”
“Trust me, if that’s the worst to even blow back on me, I’ll consider myself damn lucky,” I mumble. I sigh, pushing away from the wall. “And now that you’ve had some fun at my expense, I’m going back to bed. Next time I’ll know to stay the fuck out.”
My eyes flit over her lithe body, covered only by a thin white t-shirt she must have found in one of my drawers. I wonder if she’s wearing panties, but the t-shirt is long enough that I can’t tell.
I only came in here to check on her because she was upset, and now she’s got my dick in a complete twist. How the hell am I supposed to sleep now?
I want to say something else. I want to tell her why I really went back for Bella. I want to tell her that even though I’m holding her captive, I’ve never been as turned on by a woman as I am by her.
But the walls surrounding her are too high and thick to scale.
It ain’t worth it.
This is the life I chose, and they don’t come with happy endings.
At least, not in the literal sense.
It’s why I had to ignore my feelings for her in the first place.
I don’t bother to say goodnight. I just square my shoulders and walk out, trying to maintain some degree of dignity.
I fist the sides of my head and stalk toward the kitchen. I pull open the refrigerator door since I didn’t eat either. I don’t know why I had to pull that power play bullshit with her before. Was it because I didn’t want her attention on anything but me?
I could have let her call Frankie. I could have been a decent guy.
But then I wouldn’t be me.
I scan the contents of the refrigerator, and the meal Marchella was planning sounds a lot better than what I know I can do with the same ingredients. Besides, my stomach is knotted like a pretzel right now.
I opt for a beer and collapse onto the sofa, facing the window. I don’t bother with any lights. I just stare out into the night sky. It looks and feels heavy and thick since there are no stars twinkling back at me.
Then again, what’d I expect? This is Manhattan.
I take a swig from the beer bottle, setting it down on the table in front of me. I rest my head against the back of the couch and let my eyes drift closed. A soft pattering across the floor makes me jump a few minutes later.
“Hey,” Marchella says softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Hey,” I reply shortly, my jaw tight. This time, I don’t let my eyes wander. I keep them focused on hers.
She nods toward the empty couch cushion next to me. “Mind if I sit?”
“You’re kind of my guest, so…” I shrug.
“Thanks,” she says, sinking down next to me. I expect her to speak but she just sits there, quiet, a pensive look on her face. “I shouldn’t have been such a bitch to you before. I know you were just coming to make sure I was okay.”
I shrug. “I didn’t deserve the welcome wagon.”
“True,” she agrees, a hint of a smile on her face. “I just…look, it’s been a rough year for me. Way worse than anything we dealt with back in Sicily. I have a lot of things swirling through my brain on a daily basis, things that haunt me every day. Sometimes they decide to destroy my nights, too.” She toys with her hands. “I guess all of the stress from today triggered my mind, making it spin out of control.”
My lips stretch into a straight line. “You have every right to be pissed off at me,” I mutter. “No need to apologize.”
“You have to understand how fucked up this is, Roman. You’re planning to keep me here like I’m a bird in a gilded cage until my brother delivers for you. And based on what I know of mafia families, there’s no out for Frankie. You’ll never let him go. You’ll never let me go. Because guys like you are too concerned with watching your backs. You can’t have weak links floating around, threatening your livelihood.” She rubs a hand down the front of her face. “Believe me, I know,” she whispers.
“Your dad?” I ask. I assume she’s talking about his prison sentence. He was always a fucking loose cannon. It didn’t shock me that he finally got caught, not that I paid too much attention to the news. He was always the guy who went overboard more often than not. He never followed instructions, always thought he could do things best without anyone else’s guidance. He had his own way of doing things and if he didn’t like someone else’s plan, he cut them out of it. It made him a lot of enemies back in Sicily, aside from my father, and I’m sure he made plenty here over the years.
She nods. “I know how you guys operate,” she says softly. “I know you don’t allow risks to impact your businesses. You crush liabilities. Frankie is a definite liability. Why would you ever let him walk away once he does what you ask?”
I grab my beer bottle and take another gulp. I can’t argue with her. You always handle liabilities. It’s part of the job. Eliminating threats to the kingdom is the only way to survive and thrive.
It’s why my father got rid of the Amantes.
“I never told you I was gonna kill him,” I say. This is true, primarily because I really don’t want to kill him. I want him to hand over the schmucks whom he’s working with and let them kill him. He can be bought, I already know that. It’s his weakness.
But I also know I’m opening myself up to a lot of hell if I don’t ice him.
The truth is, if I kill him, I’m gonna have to admit to Matteo that I fucked up and that I let our family get taken for a second time by an Amante. It’s gonna tell him I don’t know how to handle a situation without using brute force. And leaders need to figure out different ways to get what they want.
He’ll never take me seriously if I can’t fix this without bloodshed.
I thought by sparing Frankie’s life I was being strategic, but the jury’s still out on that.
I don’t trust him, and if he crosses me, there will only be one way to fix this.
I can’t risk another blow to my authority.
“You didn’t have to say anything,” she murmurs. “I know he’s a live wire. He’s always been that way. I think that’s why he and my dad were always so close. He’s exactly like my father.”
“And you’re your mother. I mean, from what I remember.”
A faraway smile brightens her face. “Yeah, I definitely am. We both loved so many of the same things, we shared so many of the same personality traits. We were incredibly close. She was like my best friend.” She sighs. “I miss her so much. I felt like once she was gone, I’d lost that parental connection. My dad and I don’t exactly mix. And now that he’s in jail, it’s like we’re not even part of each other’s lives anymore. I feel like I’ve lost them both.”
“You don’t go and visit?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. I can’t.”
“Why not? I’m sure he misses you.”
“I don’t miss him,” she whispers. “I mean, he’s the reason I’m trapped here with you.”
“Ouch,” I say, clutching a hand to my heart. “That’s cold.”
“Well, it’s true. If he hadn’t gone to jail, I wouldn’t be scraping together pennies to pay all of our bills and support what’s left of our family. But he made a mistake, the biggest one, and now we’re all paying the price.” Marchella lets out a humorless laugh. “I had a life, Roman. It wasn’t extravagant but it made me happy, as happy as I’d been in Sicily. And then everything came crashing down around me like massive dominoes. Sometimes I wish they’d have just crushed me when they tumbled. Then at least I’d be out of my misery. Trying to keep your glass half full is fucking exhausting.”
She hugs her arms around herself, dipping her head low. My fingertips tingle with the urge to pull her close and trace a path over her bare skin.
“I’m, ah, sorry about all of that,” I murmur. “I didn’t know.”
“How could you?” she says, turning her head toward me. The pain flickering in her gaze makes my chest tighten. “How could you possibly know that my life is in shambles right now? She gives her head a quick shake. “I don’t need your pity.”
I sigh. “You know, things always get better just when you think they can’t get any worse.”
“I’ve been waiting for that sudden shift for about a year,” she snips. “It’s been a damn long twelve months with no end in sight.” She sighs. “And now this business with Frankie…he’s always been this way. Worse than when he was a kid. Short fuse, short-sighted. He never thinks about consequences. He’s all emotion. But he means well, and I know he’d do anything to keep me safe. He’s going to find your money, Roman,” she says, twisting toward me. “I promise you he will. He won’t want anything bad to happen to me.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” I ask. “Because I can’t tell right now.”
She leans back against the couch cushion. “He doesn’t always do the right thing. But he does the best he can. I just hope he figures out a smart way to get you what you want,” she whispers. “Because I’m afraid his emotions may get him killed otherwise.”
I don’t usually feel remorse for my work.
Then again, I don’t typically bring my work home with me.
But having Chella here, next to me, exposed in the literal and figurative senses, makes me realize what I’ve been missing out on all of these years. I thought I was just missing the sensitivity chip. Now I see I’ve had it all along. I just didn’t care enough to channel it.
I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life and I never looked back once.
And now, I have another choice to make, a chance to make a strong move to restore faith in my influence.
Except I can’t seem to stop looking backward at the girl who makes me feel more vulnerable and exposed than I ever have before.
It was dangerous ten years ago…and it’s even more so now.
Marchella runs a hand through her sleep-tousled hair and I catch a whiff of coconut.
My shampoo…
I shift on the couch when my dick jumps at the mental images of her soaped up in my shower, naked and wet. She was gorgeous as a teenager, but now? Christ. She’s all woman with curves that my hands itch to caress. My mind sticks me in the glass-enclosed space right behind her, my cock pressed against the globes of her ass. I run my hands over her tits, flicking her nipples as she moans and rests her head on my shoulder. My cock dips in between her ass cheeks and she gasps when my fingers slide into her tight pussy?—
“Roman!” She snaps her fingers in front of my face and suddenly, I’m no longer submerged in the hot spray.
“Yeah?” I say.
“Did I lose you? I feel like you completely blacked out there for a second.”
“No, I’m here. I was, ah, just thinking that maybe you might be, um, hungry.”
Hungry. Hmm. Well, I can definitely say at least one of us is.
She narrows her eyes. “I forgot. We didn’t eat before because you pissed me off.”
I scrub a hand down the front of my face. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean for you to starve.”
“Well, I had the anger to keep me sated,” she says with a tiny smile.
“Are you still angry?”
“Are you still a dick?”
We stare at each other. I watch her tongue dart out of her mouth and sweep over her lips, her expression full of conflict.
I feel that conflict, too.
Fucking everywhere.
“I can’t apologize for who I am, Marchella,” I say, my voice gruff. “But I promise that I’ll never hurt you. You’ll be safe with me.”
She nods. “That pretty much tells me what I need to know.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t mention Frankie in that promise.”
I lift an eyebrow. “I said I’d never hurt you. Killing your brother would hurt you, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“So you have to trust me, then.”
“What if he can’t get your money back?” she asks, her voice wavering. “If he says he can’t get to it, what will you do then?”
“He’s going to find it,” I say. “He has you to think about. He won’t want anything bad to happen. He’s gonna do what he needs.”
“Right,” she whispers, toying with the ends of her hair. “Okay.”
Now, Marchella is a smart girl. She knows as well as I do that Frankie isn’t the brightest bulb in the chandelier, and that any job he does is at risk of blowing up in his face because he never thinks about his actions.
That sure as hell hasn’t changed.
But yet, she’s still trying to convince herself that maybe I’m not the bloodthirsty savage she originally thought I was.
And that maybe I do have some redeeming qualities after all.
That’d be a first.
I’ve lived my life thinking I was just beyond redemption. How ironic would it be if my captive felt differently?
Captive.
There’s that word again.
Why does it have to make me so damn heated when I think of tying her up and making her the kind of captive I really want her to be?
I jump off the couch, feeling as if I need to hurl myself into a cold shower but instead, opting to open the refrigerator. That’ll give me a chill and something to occupy my hands and eyes. I grab the carton of eggs, not sure what the hell to do with them, but knowing if my digits are free to wander, they may act on their own and do things that would be very bad.
Bad in the good way.
I can hear her feet pad into the room behind me. I swallow hard, sticking my head deeper into the fridge.
“You buzzed out of there pretty fast,” she murmurs. “Why?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t exactly tell her that I wanted to mount her on my couch and that I took off before my body betrayed me.
It’s done that before…too many times to count.
“I, ah, wanted to eat something.”
Understatement of the fucking century.
She sidles closer to me and reaches for the eggs. “Here, let me.”
But when her hand grazes mine, it jolts me and the carton flies out of my grip, smashing against the polished tile floor.
Eggs.
Everywhere.
As if on cue, my stomach rumbles. But I know it’s not because I have a taste for a very early breakfast. No, the hunger that has tormented me since I first laid eyes on Marchella Amante at that restaurant is manifesting itself.
Right here and right now.
A most inconvenient time.
But when is anything about my life simple?
“Dammit,” she mutters, looking around with a huff. She grabs the paper towels from the counter and sinks to her knees to mop up the runny mess coating my floor.
“Here, let me. I dropped them. You shouldn’t have to clean it up.”
She gazes up at me, a tiny smile playing at her lips. “Well, you’re paying me, right? I am your employee.”
Good Christ.
My mind and my dick immediately jumps to the thought of what else can I get her to do for cash?
I press my fingertips to my temples, forcing out the thoughts before they percolate for too long. I’ve got serious issues right now.
Sex with Marchella is one I don’t need right now.
It would be wrong on so many levels.
But despite that knowledge, I can’t tear my eyes away from her on the floor, the way her bare thighs tighten as she wipes up the eggs, the way the hem of the t-shirt rides up giving me the tiniest glimpse of…
No.
My dick jumps.
No fucking panties.
Thank you, God…
Tiny hairs on the back of my neck prickle as I sink down to the tile and reach out to grab the paper towels. Her back is turned toward me as she stretches over to clean up a stray piece of shell. The t-shirt lifts and the curves of her ass peek out at me, taunting me, tempting me to reach out and grasp them. I want so badly to dig my fingertips into her flesh, to sink my teeth into it, to drive my palm against it as she wiggles and writhes in my arms.
She should be punished for flashing that perfect ass at me…
And suddenly, a flaming pain shoots up to my skull as she gets up, her back crashing into my nose. I tumble backward against the cabinets, my hand flying up to my face and I let out loud groan.
“Oh my God!” she says, crawling over to me. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were behind me!”
“It’s okay,” I grumble. The intense pain explodes between my temples. Okay, so clearly that was karma getting me back for lusting after her ass.
I’d better watch myself with this one, or I might end up in traction before our time is through.
“Let me see,” she says in a soft voice, slowly peeling my hand away from my nose. Her face is so close to mine that her breath flutters against my cheek like feathers. “It’s not bleeding.” She grins. “I think you’ll live.”
“Good,” I say, dragging one of my hands down the side of her face. I don’t know it escaped my control, but it’s calling the shots now.
And I’m powerless to stop it.
Marchella’s eyes widen slightly, and more so when my fingertips trace a path down the slope of her neck, dragging the neckline of the t-shirt with them as they clear a path south.
She doesn’t stop me, though.
And her eyes are glued to mine, searching for a reason to push me away, to ignore the spark of electricity between us.
I know. I’m searching for the same things.
But both of us come up empty because here we still are, immersed in each other and buried in this twisted little bubble of forbidden desire that I’ve re-created, so many years later.
I close my fingers around her arm and pull her toward me. She leans forward, still on her knees. Her lips are so close to mine, like a scrumptious meal that is just within reach of my palette.
And I’m a starving man.
I push myself away from the cabinets, gathering her in my arms, all pain forgotten and replaced by pure, carnal lust. I can feel her heart race, thumping hard as I press against her chest. She straddles my legs as I run my hands down her spine, digging my fingertips into the small of her back because I need her closer still. Her hair falls forward, tickling my skin. I slide one hand behind her head, my fingers tangling in her soft, wavy hair.
“Marchella…” I murmur before crushing my lips against hers. She wraps her arms around my neck and I lose my balance, tumbling backward against the cabinets. I plunge my tongue into her eager mouth, drinking in her desire and taking that first bite of the forbidden apple that I just know is going to be my undoing.
The coiling heat of her tongue blasts through my insides, igniting the sparks that have lain dormant for far too long. My hands slip down the sides of her torso, toying with the edge of the t-shirt. My dick thickens against my boxer briefs as she grinds her hips against me. And just knowing there’s no fabric covering her sweet pussy makes my pulse jackhammer against my throat.
With a loud gasp, she pulls away, her eyes filled with dread. “No, this can’t happen.”
“Why not?” I pant, breathless from that kiss.
“Because it’s wrong ,” she whispers. “Your brother is right down the hall. And besides that, I’m your prisoner, for Pete’s sake!”
“Prisoner. Right.” I sweep my hair out of my eyes, thinking as fast as my libido will allow me to. But damn, the lust is so thick, it clouds my mind. “Okay, well, what if I handcuffed you? Would a little role play make it right?”
That’s when I see it.
Raw hunger. She can’t hide it from me. It’s an expression I know all too well.
She likes the idea of me cuffing her.
Fuck, I like it too…
“Roman,” she whispers.
“Yeah?”
Marchella is still on top of me and my hands are on her waist, although they would like to be somewhere else right now.
Actually, in a lot of different places.
“I…I…” She bites down on her lower lip, the vicious battle still waging in her blue-green eyes.
Which side will win?
Oh, Christ, don’t keep me in suspense.
I’m ready to fight!
And then her lips crush against mine, crowning me the victor. She locks her legs around me, rubbing her chest against mine as she fists my hair, devouring me with a voracity I’ve only fantasized about. Our teeth crack, tongues flailing wildly as our heated bodies entwine right on the kitchen floor. We’re like two predators fighting over the same prey, attacking each other with an unbridled passion that courses through me like a raging inferno. I tug at the t-shirt, clenching the fabric in my fists, my dick screaming for release. I sit straight up with her still in my lap, grasping the globes of her ass beneath the t-shirt. A tiny mewl slips out of her mouth and she tugs at my lower lip with her teeth.
Without warning, she breaks away, her brow furrowed. “Did you hear that?”
“You mean, your body screaming at me to get you naked? Yeah, I heard that,” I murmur, trailing my fingertips down the slope of her back.
She lets out a soft giggle. “No, I thought I heard someone. What if Dante is awake?”
“If he is, he’s gonna get a hell of a shock if he comes in looking for a midnight snack because we’re what’s cooking in here.””
“Oh my God, that was so incredibly cheesy,” she says, giving me a playful slap on the arm. “Tell me you don’t use lines like that on all the girls. I can’t imagine you’d get laid if you did.”
“Maybe you just bring it out of me,” I growl, tugging her hair and attacking the sensitive area behind her ear with my teeth.
She melts against me and I make a mental note about her ears.
I slip my hand between her ass cheeks and squeeze before moving to her pussy. My fingers slide inside of her slick heat and I let out a moan. “My God, you’re so tight…”
Her breathing becomes more labored as I plunge my fingers deeper into her wetness, caressing the soft folds. She writhes against me, her eyes squeezed shut as she rides my digits like the bad girl I’d hoped she would be.
She grips the sides of my face, attacking my mouth with a pent-up fervor that makes my toes curl, her body supercharged by my evidently magical fingers.
Wait until the next course is served…
Marchella pulls away slightly, her hands gripping the sides of my torso. “Take me to your room,” she murmurs, her eyes glittering with desire. “Now.”
She takes her time sliding off of me and I rise to my feet, the ache in my balls so deep and so agonizing, I want to back her against the island and bury my dick deep inside of her so I can get the release I so badly need. A chill slips down my spine as she traces the outline of my pecs with her fingertips, sweeping her tongue over her swollen pink lips.
I lift her into my arms and she locks her legs around me as I move from the kitchen to my room down the hallway. Our gazes are locked on each other, and it’s a damn miracle that I didn’t crash into anything in my path.
When we’re inside, I close the door as quietly as possible since I know Dante will be skulking around for food any second. He’s like a scavenger, for Christ’s sake. And the skulking… well, that’s courtesy of his job. You never know when he’ll appear over your shoulder. He’s stealth like that. It’s a skill that keeps him alive while he’s stalking his prey.
It’s also a skill that can come back to bite me if he happens to see what I’m doing right now.
Violating the kidnapper protocol by fucking the captive.
My dick jumps.
Oh, yeah. I’m gonna fuck her good, too.
I lay Marchella on my bed, her dark hair splayed on the comforter around her flushed face. Her eyes sparkle in the moonlight that streams into the room, and she raises her arms over her head as I straddle her, a coy smile on her face.
I slide the fabric over her head and toss it to the floor, revealing her lush tits. “No panties,” I breathe, lowering my head and grazing her lips with mine.
“I couldn’t find any in the drawer,” she murmurs. “Your kidnapping plan clearly wasn’t premeditated.”
“I guess that’s a good thing for both of us,” I say, plunging my fingers into her wetness, eliciting a loud gasp from her. I dip my head lower, and with my free hand I knead the soft flesh of her breast. I tease her nipple, gently tugging at it with my teeth as she wiggles beneath me, squealing from the sensations generated by my greedy mouth.
I want to taste all of her, sampling every bit of sweetness from those pouty lips to her quivering pussy.
I work my fingers harder and faster, flicking her clit at the same time. She clenches tight around them, a sharp yelp tumbling from her lips. I silence any other sounds by feasting on her puckered mouth and letting her sounds of pleasure infuse my entire being.
I back away slightly, pulling off my boxer briefs. My cock springs to attention, precum pooling at the tip. But it’s gonna have to wait a little longer.
I haven’t finished my appetizer yet.
I slide my tongue down the front of her abdomen as her legs fall open, beckoning me. I sweep my tongue down her slit before slipping it into her, stroking her velvety walls with every push deeper into her heat.
She grips my hair, tangling her fingers into it as I nip at her clit, flicking it with my tongue. Her legs tighten around my head and she grabs a pillow and presses it over her face to muffle the screams that urge me to rocket her into oblivion.
Not that I need an invitation to do that .
It’s a given with me.
Suddenly, she throws off the pillow, pulling my head away from her pussy. “I need you inside of me now!” she rasps through gritted teeth, panting like she’s choked for oxygen.
My lips curl upward as I reach into my night table drawer and grab a condom. I tear it open with my teeth and slip it out of the packet, but she takes it from me before I can roll it on. I didn’t think it was possible for my cock to get any harder, but when she leans forward and teases my slit with her tongue before taking in the entire length of my throbbing shaft, I know I’m in serious danger of erupting. My hands grip the back of her head as it bobs up and down, stroking me with her lips and tongue. Tiny sparks in my groin make my skin prickle under her touch and I clench my teeth to hold back the groan that threatens to escape.
She pulls her mouth away from me minutes later, rolling the condom onto my shaft, slowly, maddeningly, tormentingly. And when she leans back onto the mattress, pulling me against her, all thoughts of what is horribly bad about this situation fade into the deep corners of my mind where I don’t judge my actions and I don’t worry about consequences.
Two things that are definitely going to bubble to the surface once I’m no longer drunk on my longing for Marchella Amante.
I’ll consider them later…much later, when I’m sufficiently hungover from my carnal binge.
I position my cock at her entrance, my gaze tussling with hers as I thrust deep inside of her with a muffled groan. Christ, I wasn’t prepared for this… her . Liquid heat drowns me upon entrance, suffocating me in the most sensuous possible way. I could die a happy death knowing I’d be rooted here for eternity.
I collapse on top of her, sliding my dick against her clit with every push and pull. I tug at her bottom lip with my teeth, my tongue delving into her mouth, wanton lust coursing through me and kindling every nerve ending.
If I were a forest fire….well, fuck.
I’d be ash by now.
Marchella’s nails lance the skin of my back, digging into my flesh, deeper and more frenzied as I lunge forward. Her body thrashes beneath me, soft cries slipping from her mouth.
And, my God, I love the fucking music drifting into the air around us.
Our bodies slap together, pebbled with sweat. Our limbs entwine, connected in a way that was never intended, but one in which our bodies were destined to find. I wrap my arms around her, smothering her cries with my hungry mouth. She clenches, dragging me deeper, farther into her, and I suddenly…and blissfully…become her prisoner.
And I don’t ever want to be released.
Though, I wouldn’t be opposed to handcuffs…
I thrust hard into her carnal abyss…once, twice, three times, and as she whimpers against my lips, I let go…of everything.
What I’m supposed to do, what I’m instructed to control, what I’m responsible for managing…I let it all go.
In this second, I don’t give a flying fuck about any of it.
I don’t want to think.
I only want to feel.
So I let the blaze rage through me, incinerating all of the objections and the criticisms.
Sparks ignite deep within my groin and I explode inside of her with a loud roar that I don’t bother to mask.
This is me, not giving a fuck about anything but the beauty writhing against my lust-soaked body.
My God, I’d wanted this so badly years ago.
And what I imagined doesn’t even come close to the salacious reality.
I’ll pay for it later, but right now?
I’m actually…good. Better than good.
I’m amazing, in a way I’ve never been before.
In a way I don’t ever want to lose.
I let out a deep breath, settling myself against her flushed skin. “Damn…”
She flings an arm over me, her dark hair tickling my chest as she shifts herself closer. “Wow.”
“Yeah.” I can say other words but they’re stuck in the back of my throat, along with all of the conflict.
Marchella rolls herself onto her elbow, her breaths short and sharp and her cheeks bright pink. I’ve never seen her look more beautiful, or alive, for that matter. “So, is this Stockholm Syndrome, but like, on steroids?”
I snicker. “I guess in some twisted way, it could be.”
“How does one cure themselves of this syndrome?” she whispers, trailing a finger down the front of my chest. A shiver zips through me and she giggles. “You’re ticklish?”
“Maybe…” I say, shuddering again as the tingles ripple across my skin.
That’s all she needs to hear. Suddenly, those devious fingers are digging around into every possible crevice they can find and I wiggle and twist to get out of their path.
“S-stop!” I croak, clutching myself. This really isn’t a good look for me, I know. But dammit, tickles are kind of my kryptonite.
Well, tickles and ego, if I’m being honest.
And I’d never willingly admit to either.
Marchella tilts her head back and chuckles, but she gives her hands…and me…a rest. “Wow, that’s something I never expected you to admit.”
“How can I lie? I can barely breathe,” I grumble, still shielding myself because I don’t fully trust that she won’t try to wield her weapons over me again.
She lets out a sigh and leans back into the mattress. “You keep surprising me,” she murmurs. “I don’t know what to expect next.”
“I like to keep people on their toes,” I say, throwing caution to the wind and rolling onto my side. I’m exposed right now but hoping she will reserve her next attack. “In your case, on your back works well.” I wink at her and she smiles up at me. I smooth a strand of her hair away from her face, her eyes now more blue than green. I’ve noticed that when she’s happy, they tend to favor that sapphire hue.
I could watch them change color all day, every day.
I could allow myself to slip away into the pools of expressive color.
But I know my big, fat ego would just sling a line around my neck and pull me back out.
Because I have no business being with this girl. She shines brighter than a sky full of stars when she’s content, and I’m the kind of guy who would only stomp out all of the sparkle.
I’m no knight in shining armor, and he’s the kind of guy Marchella needs — someone she can trust, someone she can rely on, and someone she can respect.
I’m none of those things.
I wasn’t ever those things.
Sure, I have my moments, but she shouldn’t have to deal with all of the in-between bullshit. Sounds to me like her father was the same way, if I’m even the slightest bit like him.
She needs something more…something better.
Work is my life.
I don’t have room for romance.
But even as my mind repeats the words, a nagging feeling deep in my gut reminds me about Bella, and I know I’m full of crap.
Not that I can do anything about it when I’m so close to dangling her brother over an open flame to get back what he stole.
That’s not exactly white knight behavior.
That’s the demon inside, the only role I can ever really play well.
So this thing between us?
This rush of electricity?
This all-consuming passion?
It can never be more than a blip on my radar.
No matter how much I want it… us …to be more.
And lying to myself about all the reasons why it can’t happen will only make it harder to walk away.