12. Cami
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Cami
The car barely stopped before I was out of it.
My legs were still shaky, my body still buzzing from what Sal had done to me, but I didn’t care. I needed more. Needed him. Needed to feel him inside me, filling me, making me forget everything except the way he said my name.
Sal was right behind me.
He caught me before I made it two steps, and then I was in his arms. Literally swept off my feet, held against his chest, his arms wrapped around me tight enough that I could feel his heart pounding through his shirt.
“I can walk,” I protested, but I was already wrapping my arms around his neck, already pressing kisses to his jaw.
“Don’t want you to walk.” His voice was strained. “Want you in my bed. Now.”
He carried me through the front door like I weighed nothing. Up the stairs. Past guards who very carefully did not look at us.
Pedro and Hendry were stationed at the end of the hallway. They took one look at us, at Sal’s desperate grip and my kiss-swollen lips, and snorted.
Sal growled.
They just saluted him, identical smirks on their faces.
Every other guard we passed suddenly found the walls very interesting. Smart.
His bedroom door slammed open. Then slammed shut behind us. Then I was on my feet, pressed against the wood, his body caging me in.
“I have been waiting.” He kissed me hard. Deep. “All fucking night.” Another kiss. “To get you alone.”
I kissed him back just as desperately. My hands found the buttons of his shirt and started working them open, fingers clumsy with need. I needed to touch his skin. Needed to feel him against me.
“Too slow.” He grabbed the fabric and pulled. Buttons scattered across the floor. “I’ll buy another one.”
Then his shirt was gone and I could finally, finally touch him.
His chest was a work of art. Golden skin stretched over hard muscle. The scars I’d seen before, pale lines that told stories I didn’t know yet. A trail of dark hair leading down from his navel and disappearing into his pants.
I traced my fingers over him. Felt the muscles jump under my touch. Heard his breath catch when I brushed his nipple.
“Your turn.” His hands found the zipper at the back of my dress. Drew it down slowly. The red silk pooled at my feet, leaving me in nothing but the diamond necklace and my heels.
He drew back, far enough to find my face.
The hunger in his eyes made my whole body flush.
“Fuck.” The word came out reverent. “You’re perfect.”
I should have felt self-conscious. Naked in front of him for the first time. Exposed. Vulnerable.
Instead I felt powerful.
I reached for his belt. Worked the buckle open. Unzipped his pants and pushed them down along with his briefs.
His cock sprang free.
God.
He was big. Thick and hard and already leaking at the tip, the sight of him making my mouth water and my pussy clench with anticipation.
I dropped to my knees.
“Cami.” His voice was strained. “You don’t have to...”
I wrapped my hand around him. Watched his eyes roll back.
“I want to.”
I leaned forward and licked the tip. Just a taste. Salt and musk and something uniquely him. His whole body shuddered.
“Fuck.” His hand found the back of my head. Not pushing. Just resting there. “Fuck, that’s...”
I took him into my mouth.
Slowly. Inch by inch. Feeling him stretch my lips, fill my mouth, his girth making my jaw ache in the best way. I couldn’t take all of him, not even close, but I wrapped my hand around what I couldn’t reach and started stroking.
“No.” The word came out strangled. His hand tightened in my hair. “No, no, no. Stop. Cami, stop.”
I pulled back, looking up at him through my lashes. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t last.” His chest was heaving. His cock was twitching in my hand. “Not like this. Not when you look like that, on your knees, your lips wrapped around me... fuck. I’ll come in thirty seconds.”
A chuckle bubbled up my throat. I loved this. Loved seeing him lose control. Loved knowing I had this effect on him, that I could reduce this powerful, dangerous man to a desperate mess with just my mouth.
“That’s a problem?” I asked, still grinning.
“Yes.” He pulled me to my feet. Kissed me hard. “I need to be inside you when I come. Need to feel you around me.”
He walked me backward toward the bed. My knees hit the mattress and I fell, bouncing on the leather. He followed me down, his body covering mine, his weight pressing me into the bed.
“I’ve thought about this.” He kissed down my neck.
“Every fucking night.” He took my nipple into his mouth, sucking hard enough to make me gasp.
“Lying next to you.” He switched to the other breast. “Trying to be a gentleman.” His teeth scraped my nipple and I moaned.
“When all I wanted was to bury myself inside you and never leave.”
His hand slid down my body. Over my stomach. Between my thighs.
“Still so wet.” His fingers dragged through my soaked folds, spreading me open. “Still ready for me.”
“Please.” I didn’t recognize my own voice. High and desperate and needy. “Sal. Please. I need...”
“Tell me what you need.”
“You.” I grabbed his face. Made him look at me. “Inside me. Now.”
He reached for the nightstand. Pulled out a condom. Tore it open with his teeth and rolled it on.
Then he was there. The fat head of his cock pressing against my pussy. Hot and hard and so close to where I needed him.
“Look at me.”
I looked.
His gray eyes were molten. Intense. Fixed on mine with an expression that made my chest ache.
“This means something.” His voice was rough. Raw. “This isn’t just sex. This isn’t just revenge. This is... you’re...”
I pulled him down into a kiss.
And he pushed inside me.
The stretch was incredible. He was big, bigger than anyone I’d ever been with, and my body struggled to accommodate him even as wet as I was. He went slow, inch by agonizing inch, giving me time to adjust.
“Breathe.” His forehead pressed to mine. “Relax for me. Let me in.”
I breathed. Relaxed. Felt my body open for him.
And then he was all the way inside me.
We stayed like that for a moment. Just breathing. Just feeling. His cock buried to the hilt, stretching me, filling me so completely I could barely think.
“Okay?” he asked.
“More than okay.” I wrapped my legs around his waist. Drew him deeper. “Move. Please. I need you to move.”
He moved.
Slowly at first. Long, deep strokes that dragged against every sensitive spot inside me. His pelvis ground against my clit with every thrust, the friction making me gasp and moan and dig my nails into his shoulders.
“So tight.” His voice was strained. “So fucking tight and wet and perfect. Made for me. You were made for me.”
“Faster.”
He went faster. Harder. The sound of skin against skin filling the room, the bed creaking under us, my moans getting louder with every thrust.
“Yes.” I was babbling now. Lost in sensation. “Yes, yes, yes. Right there. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He didn’t stop.
He fucked me like he’d been starving for it. Like I was everything he’d ever wanted and he couldn’t believe he finally had me. His hips snapped against mine, his cock hitting that spot deep inside me, the pressure building and building until I couldn’t breathe.
“I’m close.” The words tore out of me. “Sal. I’m so close.”
“Come for me.” He angled his hips, hitting even deeper. “Come on my cock. Let me feel you.”
The orgasm crashed over me.
Harder than before. Harder than anything I’d ever experienced. My whole body seized, my pussy clamping down on him, his name ripping from my throat in a scream.
He followed me over.
I felt him swell inside me, felt the pulse of him, heard the guttural moan that escaped his lips as he buried himself as deep as he could go. His whole body shook with the force of it, his arms trembling where they held him above me.
“Fuck.” He collapsed beside me, pulling me with him, staying inside me. “Fuck, Cami.”
I couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. Could only lie there in his arms, trembling, trying to remember my own name.
We lay tangled together on the leather bed, our breathing slowly returning to normal. His hand traced lazy patterns on my back. My fingers explored the planes of his chest.
They found the scar.
The long, jagged line that ran from his collarbone down to his ribs. I’d noticed it before, that first night he’d emerged from the shower in nothing but sweatpants. But I’d never asked.
“Where did you get this?” My finger traced the raised skin gently.
He went still.
“My father.” The words came out quiet. Heavy. “The night my mother died.”
My hand stopped moving. I looked up at him.
“He came home drunk. She tried to hide me in the closet but he found us.” His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “He killed her first. Made me watch. And then he came for me.”
My heart clenched. “Sal...”
“I survived. Obviously.” His voice was flat. Controlled. He’d learned a long time ago to bury his pain somewhere it couldn’t reach him. I heard it anyway. “The neighbors heard the screaming. Called the police. I spent six months in the hospital.”
“And your father?”
“I killed him.” He said it simply. Matter-of-factly. Like he was discussing the weather. “Two years later. Once I was old enough. Strong enough.” His eyes finally met mine. “Does that frighten you?”
I thought about it. Really thought.
This man had killed his father. Had built an empire on violence and blood and fear. Had threatened to feed a man to pigs tonight without raising his voice.
But he’d also made me tea when I was scared. Held me when I cried. Defended me in front of everyone who’d ever hurt me.
“No.” I pressed a kiss to the scar. “It doesn’t frighten me. It makes me understand you.”
His face changed. A softening. A vulnerability I’d never seen before.
He pulled me closer. Kissed my forehead.
“What happens now?” I whispered against his chest.
“Now we destroy Logan.” His arms tightened around me. “Together.”
Together.
I liked the sound of that.