Chapter 24 #2
Panic surges through me, and I scoop her up into my arms. A laugh bubbles up from her throat as I carry her back to the cabana. Much better.
I set her down on the cushioned lounge chair and press a kiss to her mouth before pulling a bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and grabbing two glasses. As I pop the cork and pour, I catch her staring at me with a playful smile. “What?”
She accepts the glass of bubbly and then her smile stretches.
My chest squeezes. So fucking beautiful. I stare, mentally taking a picture.
“How exactly did you know I was involved in the auction? Are you stalking me? And what did you say to that poor man to make him stop bidding?”
I fight my own grin as I fill my glass and shove the bottle back into the ice bucket. “Stalking is such a harsh label. Of course not. It was pure coincidence. And I don’t know what you mean, I politely asked him to stop bidding.”
“Right,” she snorts. “Just like it was a coincidence you were at the Metro Diner that night I was almost robbed.”
“No, that was definitely stalking.” A clink sounds along with her laugh as I touch my glass to hers. “To good memories.”
“To closure.” Her eyes lock on mine over her glass as she sips the champagne.
Internally I wince, not liking the sound of that.
I grab her legs and drape them over mine, then run my hand over her warm, bare calves, getting lost for a moment in the pleasure of touching her.
Along with the ocean breeze, it’s fucking heaven.
“Seems like you’re doing well, Lennon. You’ve got the career you wanted. ”
“Again… stalker.” She laughs lightly. “But yeah, I love my job, helping women heal and get their lives back. Though I’d still love to have my own practice. But the liability insurance is super expensive. One day maybe.”
I think about the trafficked Russian women we saved from the whorehouse. I want to tell her about them, she would appreciate their rescue, but again, I already know what she thinks about the mafia’s brand of justice.
She shifts closer to me. “What about you? Why are you back in Tampa?”
I slide my palm under her dress to caress her thigh.
Her skin is like warm silk. She grew up around our business, our way of life, so I know she’ll understand what I tell her.
But I don’t want to spoil the mood, so I keep my answer short.
“We have a Russian problem here. I was sent to fix it.” I drain my glass and set it in the basket so I have both hands free.
“Are you going back to New York after it’s fixed?” she asks quietly.
I search her gaze, wondering what answer she’s looking for. It would probably be easier on her if I was returning to New York. Then she could go back to her life without worrying about running into me. But that’s not what she wants. I see it in the panic widening her eyes.
“No, Angel. I’m here to stay.”
Her teeth scrape her bottom lip as she nods.
Lifting the glass from her hand, I set it beside the basket and then pull her flush against my chest. Her head is tilted to look at me, so I grasp her chin. “La mia bella ragazza.” My whispered words touch her mouth before my lips.
I kiss her slowly, lazily sliding my tongue against hers, savoring every moment of our connection, every tiny moan she gives me, every jolt to my cock her hot mouth is delivering. If it was possible to stop time and live in one moment forever, this would be the moment I choose.
I skate my hand up her thigh further until I reach the slip of fabric covering her pussy. She’s soaked already. This time it’s me who moans when she opens her legs to give me better access. I slip my fingers beneath the elastic and through her silky, slick folds.
She’s already squirming in my arms, which just makes me bolder and hungrier. My tongue delves deeper into her mouth at the same time I push my fingers inside her, and her walls instantly tighten around them like a vice. My dick throbs painfully. I ignore it. This one is for her.
My fingers and tongue find the same rhythm, and it doesn’t take any time at all for her whole body to clench and convulse as she cries out with her orgasm.
I slowly slide my fingers in and out of her dripping, hot core as she recovers, watching her in fascination—her hooded eyes, her swollen, gasping mouth. Making her come could easily become an addiction.
I guide her onto her back against the cushion and lean over her with a slow grin. “That’s one, Angel.” In the moonlight, I can see the flush covering her face and chest, her eyes glassy with pleasure. I snap another mental picture.
Then I kiss and nip at her neck and shoulder as I slip the spaghetti straps of her dress off them, peeling it slowly down her body, revealing her perfect tits and hard, dusty rose nipples. “Mio dio. You’re so beautiful,” I whisper. “A fucking dream.”
Leaning down, I wrap my lips around one of her nipples. She arches her back with a needy moan. One hand holds me up, keeping my full weight off her as the other one kneads her breasts as I take turns licking and sucking them.
Pressing my hard-as-concrete cock between her legs as she writhes beneath me, I listen to her short pants of arousal. Humming in approval, I sink my teeth into the soft underside of her breast and then run my tongue over the mark. Her breath hitches. I glance up, making sure I didn’t hurt her.
Her hooded eyes are shiny with lust. “Sandro, please,” she chokes out. “I need you.”
Pinching one of her hard nipples, shiny with my saliva, I roll it between my fingers and tug.
“I know baby, I know.” God, to hear her begging for my cock has me high as a fucking kite. But as much as I’m dying to be buried balls deep inside her, I’m not rushing this.
I will gladly give her another orgasm though.
I sit up and shimmy her dress down her stomach and over her hips, slowly like I’m peeling open a present because dear god, this woman is every man’s dream come true. I toss it on the sand. Then I tear off the scrap of silk covering her waxed pussy. My hungry gaze rakes over her supple, naked body.
She spreads her legs, putting one foot on each side of the chair, her hungry gaze locked on me.
“I know what you need, Angel.” I get on my knees at the end of the lounge chair and place my palms on either side of her inner thighs, spreading her legs wider.
Her pussy is swollen and glistening like a ripe peach.
My mouth waters. “You need me to eat this sweet pussy until you’re coming on my tongue. ”
I smile as a “please” floats on the breeze. Then I press my mouth against her clit and suck gently, the musky, sweet, exotic taste of her exploding on my tongue.
Her body arches, a deep moan riding her exhaled breath.
I don’t know how many times I’ve jerked off to this exact scenario. How many times I’ve gotten lost in fantasies of her spread open for me, letting me taste her again, devour her. It’s hard to believe this is really happening.
Her fingers slide into my hair and her gasp lingers in my mind as I suck and then slide my tongue over her silky folds, repeating the pattern as she grinds against my face. When I spear her hot, needy cunt with my tongue, a cry rips from her as another orgasm hits.
“Mmmm,” I moan, lapping at her release. “You taste so fucking good, Angel. I could live on this cunt.” I slide my fingers inside her, so she has something to clench around and continue licking until she indicates she’s getting too sensitive.
“Sandro.” She pants and squirms as I stand and stare down at her.
Her beautifully flushed skin, glittering eyes, wild hair, swollen, glistening pussy.
Goddamn. How am I supposed to let her go?
My cock is painfully hard, but I know if I try to fuck her right now I’ll come in seconds.
Reaching down, I take her hands and pull her up, positioning her on the end of the lounger.
She immediately reaches for my belt. I bite back a groan. My greedy, perfect girl.