Chapter 24 Erin
Erin
My dreams are filled with dark eyes, ripped bodies and rough hands, fingers wetting themselves in my arousal and bringing me endless pleasure.
A moan slips from my mouth, rousing me from a slumber. Seconds later, I’m barely conscious of a hand between my thighs, and shaking with the laziest of orgasms as Augusto plays with me, even as I sleep.
His voice is raspy and filled with lust as it glides through my ears. “You’re drenched, my little villainess.”
“That’s what happens when you play with me all night,” I whisper, huskily.
“Not all night,” he smiles against my hair. “Just the last hour. You’ve come twice, by the way.”
And yet, I want more.
I reach behind me to find his cock solid as steel and hot to the touch. Desperate for more of what he gave me merely hours ago, I turn to face him then push him onto his back, straddling him naked like the brazen hussy I apparently am.
His eyes are brimming with desire as they stroke down over my breasts and stomach to my thighs stretched wide across his hips.
My lids shiver a little as they flick up to his face. I’ve never done this before. I don’t know what to expect. I don’t even know how to begin.
“Put your hands on my chest.” His voice is all throaty with lust.
I do as he says.
“Now come up onto your knees.”
I do that too, feeling him angle the head of his cock at my entrance.
“You’ll need to come up higher,” he rasps. “On your feet.”
What?
I look down at the space between us. His cock stands so tall there isn’t enough room to get it in. I’m more petite than the average woman, but he is huge—height, width, everything. I come up onto my feet a little, so he can position his cock.
“Now come down, slowly.”
I glance up at him, a worried look furrowing my brow.
A smile pulls at his lips. “You’re plenty wet enough.”
I slide onto his cock, both of us moaning like we’re slotting right back into place. I have never felt like this before—like I’m only whole with another part of someone else inside me.
He thrusts up, his thighs tensing into hard lines, and his eyes roll back a touch.
“Fuck, Erin…”
I move above him, unsure of how to pace myself, but melting at the sound of his breaths. I do this for a few minutes, then his eyes snap to mine and I’m suddenly hauled off his body.
My ass slams to the bed, then he flips me over with what feels like the lightest of touches.
Before I know it, I’m face down in the comforter, my legs spread wide, my ass canted in the air.
I can’t get a word out before he slams into me, his cock shoved hard to my very edge with a stone aged grunt. “You are mine, my little villainess. All mine.”
And Jesus, I push my ass back into him. After everything I’ve been through, I want it hard and raw and honest.
I cry out with every rut, loving it, even though I’ve never experienced sex like this. It feels rough and desperate. Pure, unrestrained lust. Two people using each other’s bodies for pleasure.
“Fuck me, Augusto,” I whimper, doped up on the sound of my own, lust-drenched voice.
“Yes, baby,” he rasps from behind me. “You are so wet, so hot, so tight, so fucking perfect.”
“I want to feel you come,” I gasp. And to my utter astonishment, I do. I want to feel this man’s release crash against my cervix so hard I see stars.
“Make me, baby,” he groans. “Grip me tight. Give me that ass.”
I tighten around him, flexing my spine so he can see everything. I’m shameless and liberated, because he seems to find every inch of me sexy. And that’s more powerful than any therapy or drug.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he rasps. “God, your body, Erin.”
I grip harder, feeling the ridges of his cock glide along my walls, stimulating that spot I now know makes me ascend to a different plain.
His strong hands warm my sides, his hips smacking into me, owning me with every shattered moan.
“I’m going to—”
“I’m there,” he grits out. “Come with me, my angel.”
And I’m floating, only just conscious of his fingers anchoring me as he pumps me full, and his triumphant moan as I grip him tight, automatically, without conscious thought. It’s purely my body’s instinct—needing to keep the friction until I’ve ridden it out, but only from him.
It feels otherworldly, like nothing I’ve ever known, and like something only a small percentage of the human race will ever experience.
It knocks the wind out of me and I collapse to the bed, with this beautiful, wonderfully heavy man coming down on my back. It doesn’t matter that my breaths can only be shallow with him draped over me. The only thing that matters is, it’s him.
My mind drifts in and out of consciousness. My head is resting on his salt and pepper chest hair, his heart thumping softly beneath my ear. His large, inked arm is curled around me, holding me close, and I have a leg thrown across his body as if that might ever stop him from escaping.
I can’t remember ever feeling so sated, relaxed and protected. My body is floating on a soft cloud of post-coital bliss—the kind I assume one feels only after being thoroughly gripped and fondled and explored with a mouth, a tongue and a deliciously perfect dick for several hours.
“If you want to leave, I understand.”
Augusto’s solemn words shock me back to earth.
I gaze up at him, taking in his beautiful, warm eyes, soft lips darkened from hours of kissing mine. I don’t want to leave.
But then my thoughts fill with Paige. My baby.
My purpose. My reason for living. I have one job in this life and that is to keep my daughter safe.
She’s the reason I moved us to New York.
I could have moved down the street or to another part of California, but as her mother, I can’t risk her physically abusive father having easy access to her.
As hard as it is to see her adjust to a new life that she never asked for, I know it was absolutely the right thing to do.
The thought that she’s going through that alone—albeit with my mother close by—while I’m having a pretty amazing time with a hardened criminal on a spa retreat, makes my heart hurt with guilt.
I should leave. I should go back to her, to where it’s safe and where I can keep her safe. Is it even sane that I’m debating staying here with a sworn criminal? With a bunch of sworn criminals?
His eyes warm me, hazel and green, and I’m reminded of what Mallorie told me.
Take what he offers you, Erin. If only for a week. Enjoy yourself.
I wonder if she’d give me the same advice knowing who August really is. Probably not.
I have to make this decision for myself, on my own.
Thinking rationally, my daughter is safe. She’s with my mom and Mal and no one here knows who I am. I’m here to make money for us both to live a better life. The fact I’m now overdelivering on my contracted obligations makes things a little complicated, but it doesn’t change the reason I’m here.
I’ve been at risk all along—I simply wasn’t aware of it before.
Maybe I should be mad at Augusto for lying to me. But if he’d told me the truth, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be due two hundred thousand dollars and I wouldn’t have had hands down the best sex of my life with a man who’s killed for me, demanded I be his and admitted to being unable to stay away.
Six months ago I thought I was happily married, living in the suburbs and spending my time between grocery stores and dry cleaners.
If someone had told me back then I would be beaten by my husband, seeking a divorce, living with my mother and cavorting with the mafia, I’d have laughed in their face.
But of Gerard and Augusto, which one is better?
A man who was absent for most of our marriage, choosing his career over his family every time, then laying his hands on me to cause unfathomable pain?
Or a man who commits crimes for a living, hurls men across bars for touching me, yet treats me with a softness I’ve never felt before?
As if sensing my answer, he brushes his fingertips down my arm, then leans down to place a chaste kiss on the tip of my nose.
“I’ll keep you safe, Erin. If it’s the last thing I do.”