Chapter 17
LUNA
I’m being carried through the air, floating like I’m weightless.
Something brushes over my temple. A delicious warmth is seeping into me, when I didn’t even realize I was cold, and I burrow closer to it, pressing my face into something soft yet firm, slightly prickly.
The scent of pine trees and citrus wraps around me, and it’s so wonderful and yet not quite right.
Because there’s a hint of cigarette smoke too.
That concerns me.
The smoke is wrong.
And I’m not floating. There’s a rhythmic thump , thump , thump , thump . Like someone is walking and I’m being carried. But that doesn’t make sense.
My eyes flutter open, and I see the underside of a granite jaw covered with five-o’clock shadow. It’s a jaw I’d recognize anywhere. A scent I’d recognize anywhere.
Priest is back.
And he’s carrying me in his arms.
“I’m awake,” I protest through a sleep-rasped voice. “You can put me down.”
In my still-half-asleep, just-woken-from-a-dream state, relief surges through me. Priest is alive. He went to meet with Amedeo tonight, and the fact that he’s carrying me to my bedroom is proof he left that meeting uninjured. Maybe my cousin’s not the monster I feared. Or maybe Priest is.
Did he kill Amedeo?
Oh God.
Did he kill him in cold blood, and now he’s holding me in his arms?
I start wriggling. “Priest, I said to put me down.”
“I heard you,” he says, not even bothering to spare me a glance as he stalks down the hall, carrying me like a child. “I just don’t want to do it.”
“You don’t want to put me down?”
“No.”
I make a sound, frustrated. “Well, I don’t want to be carried, so kindly consider that I’m one-half of this fucking equation, gangster.”
“I thought I told you to watch that mouth,” he growls, and then he cups my head and kisses me.
Kisses me like he’s starved for me. My body’s response is instant. Heat washes over me, my nipples tightening to hard points. I whimper and open for his tongue, the visceral memory of everything that happened between us in the observation room melting me from the inside out.
Emotions swirl inside me at the taste of him—whiskey and dark hunger. I realize I’m relieved. He’s safe. He’s here. My palm flattens against his hard chest, right over his heart, absorbing the steady thumps of its beat. I was worried about him, and not just for my own sake, but for his.
Somehow, I’ve come to rely on him. To—oh God— care about him.
I’m vaguely aware of Priest elbowing through the door and slamming it behind us. We’re alone, in my bedroom, and he’s still feeding me deep, drugging, possessive kisses I could get addicted to.
His mouth lifts from mine, and suddenly, I’m falling.
I let out a squeak of surprise and land on the soft, welcoming mattress of our bed in the next instant. Our bed. When did I start thinking of this piece of furniture that way? Now?
Priest’s jaw is hard, his blue eyes even harder, as he pulls at the black tie around his neck, loosening the knot. “Take everything off.”
I blink up at him, not understanding. Arousal licks through me, my clit pulsing. He looks so hot in his suit. Or what’s left of it. He’s wearing a white shirt, black tie, and matching slacks. His dark hair is damp. He’s not just hot. He’s beautiful.
“Off,” he repeats, yanking his tie and working on his buttons.
I’m mesmerized by his hands, those long fingers, the intricate ink on them. The way they felt inside me. My pussy clenches at the reminder. But just because we had sex earlier, it doesn’t mean he can come raging in here like a caveman and demand more from me. Even if I want it.
My chin goes up. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you any manners?”
“ Zia tried.” The corner of his mouth kicks up in a half smile, and a lone dimple carves into his cheek under that sexy scruff. “It didn’t work.”
He’s unbuttoning his shirt now, each one revealing more and more of his ridiculously muscled chest. I lick my lips, watching him.
His grin deepens, all cocky and smug. “Like what you see, baby?”
He knows I do.
I shrug with just one shoulder and prop myself up on my elbow. “It’s okay, I guess.”
A wicked glint enters his too-blue eyes. “Oh yeah?”
I swallow, because he’s whipped off his shirt now.
Hello, eight-pack, where have you been all my life?
No, Luna, I instantly chastise myself. Bad Luna. You’ve got to get control of yourself.
“Yeah,” I retort, clinging to the obvious lie that I don’t find him drool-worthy, drop-dead gorgeous.
You’d have to be dead not to be attracted to Priest. It’s not just that he’s got the body of an athlete and the face of a male model. There’s something potent and powerful about him. Some insane magnetism that makes him irresistible, no matter how badly I want to be repelled by him.
His fingers go to his waistband and pause. I’m holding my breath, waiting for him to step out of his trousers. Waiting for the rigid outline of his cock I can see tenting the expensive black fabric to be even more defined.
“Luna?”
My gaze zings back up to his face. “What?”
“Take off your clothes.”
Four words. That’s all it takes to set me on fire.
I shake my head despite that. “I’m not having sex with you.”
“So, don’t have sex with me, then.”
Wait. What?
My brow furrows. “But you want me to take off my clothes.”
“If it were up to me, you’d be naked all day long, in my bed, filled with my come.
” He says this calmly, nonchalantly, as he undoes his fly, like he’s talking about making a trip to the grocery store.
“But I’m a reasonable man, so I’m willing to take it slowly.
You don’t want to have sex tonight? Fine.
But I’ve spent the last few hours thinking about burying my face in your pussy and licking you until you scream my name, so that’s what I’m going to do, and nothing is going to stop me except you telling me no. ”
My clit pulses, and a rush of wetness surges to my core. I can already feel that my panties are soaked. I want him to do everything he just said. I want his tongue on me, in me. I want him.
Shit.
His pants drop, and I’m equally relieved that he’s wearing boxer briefs and frustrated. I wanted to see his big, thick cock, hard and ready for me. I wanted to see the effect I have on him. To know I turn him on this much.
Priest gets onto the edge of the bed, on his knees, the hot look in his eyes enough to incinerate me. “You gonna say no, baby?”
I swallow hard. I’m on fire. My heart is beating fast. I should say no. I should tell him to stop. But I can’t seem to make myself do it.
“Didn’t think so,” he rumbles, and then he grasps my ankle, the contact of his skin on mine making all the pent-up need inside me a hundred times more intense.
But then he moves quickly, taking me by surprise again. One second, I’m lying flat on my back, and the next, he’s maneuvering me, rolling me onto my stomach.
“Priest, what the?—”
My words are cut off by a sound smack on my ass. The sting of it is blunted by my cozy pj pants, but there’s no denying that Priest just spanked me. My outrage is instant, even if I also think it’s kind of hot.
“What are you?—”
Smack.
“I told you to take everything off,” he says. “And you didn’t listen, did you?”
I cast a glance over my shoulder to find him on his knees behind me, towering over me, exuding so much raw sexual energy and potent masculinity that I actually whimper. My poor body can’t take this kind of sensual torment.
“Of course I didn’t,” I tell him defiantly. “Because I don’t take orders from you or anyone else, you?—”
Smack.
That last one stung a little. The arrogant asshole. I’m going to get even with him for this. I’m going to smother him in his sleep tonight. I’m going to?—
With one swift movement, he yanks down my pajama pants and my thong, and the kiss of the cool night air on my skin has me gasping. Then he’s kneading my cheeks with his big hands, and it feels so good that I lose my train of thought.
“Time for you to learn your lesson, baby,” he rasps, jerking my panties and pjs off and throwing them over his shoulder.
In the next breath, he lowers himself over me. His lips graze first one cheek, then the other. I feel his hot breath on my skin. I’ve never had a man this close to my ass before, and I’m self-conscious and aroused at the same time.
“Priest,” I protest.
The nip of his teeth sends a new pulse of heat to my clit, like a jolt of electricity. “You going to tell me no?”
I’m breathing fast. He bit me. And I liked it. So much that I can feel the wetness seeping out of me. He must see it. Must know how badly I want him.
“No,” I manage softly.
He bites my ass cheek, his big hand massaging the other, opening me to him. “Is that a no I can’t lick this beautiful, sopping-wet pussy of yours?”
He kisses me again, getting closer to where I want him. To where I ache for him. His lips skate over the outer edges, avoiding direct contact.
“Priest,” I gasp out. This time, it’s a plea.
“You didn’t answer me.” His fingertips knead my flesh, parting me farther.
I’ve never been so on display before. I’m feverish, a fine sheen of perspiration on my skin, so desperate for his touch that I grind my clit into the mattress, seeking friction. It’s not good enough because it’s not him.
He inhales deeply, like he’s drinking in my scent, and I should be ashamed, but it only turns me on more. I feel like an animal, driven by instinct and the need to be fucked. But no, that’s too easy. Because I don’t just want sex. I want it with Priest. I want everything he’s promised me and more.
He bites my inner thigh. It doesn’t hurt, but it sends a wicked jolt to my already swollen clit. A helpless moan escapes me.
“What kind of a no was that, wife?” he demands.
“It was a no I’m not going to tell you no,” I manage, breathless.
The way he called me wife makes my nipples ache. I’m such a mess.
He rewards me with a long, slow lick from my ass to my entrance. “Then tell me what you want me to do.”