Chapter 10 #3
Sal backed me against the study door, then stopped before my spine touched wood.
Even then.
Even breaking.
He remembered not to trap me.
The knowledge made me pull him closer.
“Bedroom,” he said against my lips. “Now.”
His mouth returned to mine.
He carried me there.
Sal set me on my feet beside the bed, and I pushed his open shirt from his shoulders before he could start being careful again. The fabric dropped to the floor.
His body was heavier than I had imagined. Broad chest. Thick shoulders. Muscle built by work. Scars interrupted the warm olive skin.
The line along his forearm. A pale mark near his ribs. A small round scar high on one shoulder. I touched each one.
His breathing slowed, became ragged. He watched my fingers travel over him.
“This one?” I asked, touching his ribs.
“Knife.”
“This?”
“Bullet.”
“And this?”
His gaze dropped to the scar along his arm.
“My father’s last night.”
I lifted his forearm and kissed it. Sal went completely still. I kissed the scar from wrist to elbow. Not because it was beautiful. It was not. It was raised and uneven and old.
It was part of him.
His hand entered my hair. Not pulling. Holding.
“You don’t need to do that,” he said.
“I want to.”
I sank to my knees.
His hand tightened.
“Yelena.”
“I want this too.”
I pulled his trousers and underwear down together.
His cock sprang free.
Thick. Heavy. Long. Flushed dark at the head. A bead of moisture already shone at the tip.
My mouth watered. Sal watched me looking at him.
“Still want me?” he asked.
I didn’t say a word, just wrapped my hand around him.
He was too thick for my fingers to meet. Heat pulsed against my palm. I stroked him slowly, watching his stomach tighten.
“Fuck,” he said under his breath.
The sound pleased me. I ran my thumb over the wet tip, then brought it to my tongue.
His fingers flexed in my hair.
I licked him again. Directly this time. Sal’s hips made a short, involuntary movement toward me before he locked them still.
“Don’t hold back,” I said.
His gaze met mine.
“You may regret that sentence.”
“I doubt it.”
I put my mouth around the head of his cock. The taste was salt and skin and him. His breath broke.
I took him deeper. Not all the way. He was too large, but I took every inch I could.
I used my hand where my mouth could not reach. Slow strokes. Wet pressure. My tongue moving over the underside.
Sal’s composure came apart in pieces. His jaw loosened. His head tipped back.
His hand tightened in my hair, then released at once as if afraid he had taken too much.
“Pull,” I said around him.
His eyes dropped to me.
“My hair.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded.
His fingers closed again. Firm this time. The small bite of pain made heat rush between my thighs. I took him deeper. His groan filled the room.
That was what I wanted. I wanted this controlled man ruined enough to make noise.
I worked him faster. His thighs tightened beneath my hands. His cock grew harder in my mouth, the pulse stronger.
“Yelena.” My name came out rough. “Stop.”
I did.
Immediately.
The loss of him left my lips wet and swollen.
“Why did you stop me?”
He drew me to my feet.
“Because I was going to come.”
“That was the idea.”
“No, no, Bella. Not yet.”
His thumb moved over my lower lip, gathering the shine there. He kissed me. Long and hard and deep, a well of passion bubbling up inside him.
I tasted him between us. His hands found the hem of his shirt where it covered my thighs. He lifted it slowly.
Cool air touched my skin. The shirt passed over my head. I stood before him in simple black underwear, my breasts bare.
Sal looked.
Not a quick glance. Not polite.
His gaze moved over every inch of me with dark, open hunger. My breasts. My stomach. My tattoo. My thighs.
I felt wanted.
“Beautiful,” he said.
He touched the falcon on my hip, then he knelt.
His mouth met the tiny black bird first. Then the skin below it. Then the curve of my hip. His hands stayed at my waist until I reached for him.
Only then did they move.
One slid around my ass, careful over the lingering warmth from the spanking. The other traveled up my ribs.
His thumb brushed beneath my breast, and then he cupped me.
His palm was broad and warm. My nipple tightened against it. Sal watched my face while his thumb moved over the sensitive peak.
The first slow pass made my breath catch.
The second made me arch.
“Good?” he asked.
“Very.”
His mouth closed over my other nipple.
Heat shot through me.
His tongue circled. Sucked. Released. Then returned with more pressure after I pulled him closer.
My knees felt weak, little points of light danced behind my eyes.
He lifted me onto the bed then placed me down, then removed my underwear carefully, savoring every moment.
Then he looked between my thighs.
I fought the urge to close them.
His hand rested on my knee.
“May I?”
“Yes.”
He opened me.
The exposure made my face burn. I was already wet. Slick enough that the inner skin shone beneath the bedside lamp.
Sal’s expression changed.
“Christ.”
Pleasure moved through me at the roughness in his voice.
He stroked one finger through the wetness. My hips jumped.
“Sensitive?”
“Yes.”
“Too much?”
“No, Sal, not too much.”
He touched me again. Slowly. His finger traveled from my entrance to my clitoris, circling once before sliding away.
I made an impatient sound.
His mouth moved.
“Don’t you dare smile.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“You are—I can see!”
“Ok, maybe I am, a little.”
He repeated the motion. Again. Each time he touched my clitoris, he watched my face. When my brow tightened, he lightened the pressure. When my hips followed his hand, he pressed harder. He learned quickly.
Too quickly.
His middle finger slid inside me.
I gasped.
“Good?”
“Yes.”
Another careful thrust. Then his ring finger joined it. The stretch made my thighs shake. He curled them forward, searching.
When he found the place that sent a hard pulse through my body, I grabbed his wrist.
“There.”
“Don't worry, I know.”
“Arrogant.”
“Accurate.”
He worked that spot slowly while his thumb circled my clitoris.
Pleasure gathered low and tight. I could hear how wet I was around his fingers. The sound should have embarrassed me. Instead, it made me ache harder.
“Sal.”
“I have you.”
The words struck someplace deeper than his fingers did.
My body tightened. Then he withdrew.
I opened my eyes.
“No.”
His mouth kissed my inner thigh. My protest died. He moved closer. His shoulders spread my legs wider. His breath touched my wet skin.
“I want to taste you.” He sounded like an animal. Desperate. Fierce.
“Yes, please.”
His tongue found me.
The first stroke broke a cry from my throat.
Sal held my hips and licked slowly, learning me with the same brutal patience he applied to everything. Flat pressure over my clitoris. Then the tip of his tongue circling. His mouth closing around the swollen point and sucking gently.
I tangled both hands in his hair.
He groaned against me.
The vibration pushed pleasure through my belly.
“More.”
He gave me more.
His finger returned inside me. Then another. His mouth kept a steady rhythm while his hand curled against that sensitive place.
The edge rushed closer.
So fast—too fast. My thighs closed around his head, but Sal did not stop.
He held me open with one forearm and looked up.
Our eyes met. That undid me.
He watched my face as if my pleasure mattered more than the position, more than conquest, more than whatever he wanted next.
My body belonged to me.
He was only listening to it.
“Sal, I’m—”
The orgasm tore through me.
My back lifted from the bed. My thighs shook. I cried his name while pleasure clenched around his fingers in hard, helpless waves.
He stayed with me through every one.
Slower.
Softer.
Until I pushed weakly at his shoulder.
Then he stopped. Sal kissed my inner thigh and climbed over me.
His mouth was wet with me. I pulled him down and kissed him.
The taste made my pussy clench again—salt, sweet, earth.
“I want you inside.”
His eyes searched mine. “Now?”
My body tightened at the size of him.
Sal positioned himself between my thighs but did not enter.
“You control it,” he said. “Hand on my hip. Pull me when you want more. Push me when you want less.”
I put both hands on him. The head of his cock pressed against my entrance. I pulled.
He entered slowly.