Chapter 30 Santino
I'm holding a pair of aces when the door opens behind me. I don't look up immediately because I'm in the middle of a hand with Alexei Volkov and I need to maintain my focus on the game.
Then I feel it—arms slipping around my neck from behind, soft and warm, carrying the unmistakable scent of jasmine and vanilla that makes my heart stop.
I turn my head and there she is—Liana, wearing that same dress, her eyes locking on mine with a dark, intense heat that steals the breath from my lungs.
"Deal me in," she whispers in my ear, and every rational thought leaves my head in that instant.
I turn fully in my chair, my hands instinctively going to her waist as I pull her down onto my lap. She settles against me without hesitation, her body pressed perfectly against mine, her back against my chest.
"Gentlemen," she says to the table, her voice smooth and confident as she addresses the other players, "I hope you don't mind."
Alexei's eyes flick between us before a slow smile spreads across his face. "Not at all. Welcome to the game."
The Greek nods his approval while the others murmur their agreement, but I can barely hear them over the pounding of my own heart.
All I can focus on is Liana—on my lap, in that dress, the heat of her body against mine and the way she shifts slightly to settle in more comfortably, every movement sending fire through my veins.
"Your bet, Marcello," Alexei prompts, pulling me back to the present.
I look down at my cards where the aces are still waiting, but I find that I don't care about them anymore.
"Call," I manage to say.
The hand plays out in front of me and I lose badly, but I don't give a damn about the chips I'm pushing across the table.
Liana shifts again, her hip pressing against me in a way that makes my grip tighten on her waist, and when she tilts her head back slightly to look up at me, those dark eyes full of promise, I can't think of anything but her.
Another hand is dealt while I'm still recovering, and I bet without even looking at my cards, losing again in spectacular fashion.
"You're off your game tonight, Marcello," the Greek observes with amusement in his voice.
"Distracted," I say roughly, the understatement of the century.
Liana's fingers trace slow, deliberate patterns on my thigh that are driving me absolutely insane, and I lean down until my lips are close to her ear. "Why are you here?"
"Why do you think?" Her voice is meant for me alone.
My hand moves from her waist to her hip, holding her tighter against me as I struggle to maintain any semblance of control. "Liana—"
She shifts again in a way that feels like deliberate torture and turns her head so her lips are almost touching mine. "I’m here. Isn’t that enough?"
It is—Christ, it is more than enough.
I stand abruptly, lifting her with me in one smooth motion, and announce to the table without taking my eyes off her, "I'm out."
"Already?" Alexei raises an eyebrow, and his expression shifts to knowing amusement. "Ah. I see. You're a lucky bastard, Marcello."
"I know," I say, because I do know, and I don't wait for more comments before I guide Liana toward the door with my hand on her lower back.
We make it to the hallway and down the stairs, each step feeling like an eternity when all I want is to have her alone. Outside, her bodyguards are waiting, and they straighten when they see us approaching.
"I'm taking her home," I say, my voice leaving no room for argument. "You're dismissed. She’s with me tonight."
"Don Dominic said—" one of them starts, but I cut him off before he can finish.
"I'll get her home safely. You have my word."
Liana looks at them and nods. "It's fine, Alessandro. I'll be safe with him."
They hesitate, clearly weighing their orders against Liana's direct instruction, before they step back and allow us to pass. I guide Liana toward my car—the Maserati parked in the private lot—but we're barely out of sight of her bodyguards when I can't take it anymore.
I spin Liana around, my hands gripping her hips, and pin her against the rough brick wall in the shadowed alley. The world shrinks to just us—her ragged breaths, the heat of her body pressed against mine, the way her curves fit perfectly under my hands.
I’ve been starving for her for weeks, and now, finally, I kiss her, my lips crashing into hers with all the pent-up desperation I’ve been choking down. It’s not soft—it’s raw, filthy, a clash of tongues and teeth that sets my blood on fire.
She gasps into my mouth, a small sound of shock that turns into a needy moan, and her hands dive into my hair, yanking hard enough to make me growl against her lips.
“Santino—” she pants, my name a desperate plea that hits me like a shot of whiskey, burning straight to my cock. She’s kissing me back just as hard, her tongue sliding against mine, her body grinding against me until I’m rock-hard and aching.
“Car. Now,” I mutter, barely pulling back to get the words out.
My hand locks around hers, fingers tight, and I drag her toward the Maserati parked just beyond the alley. The cool night air does nothing to calm the fire raging under my skin, every step a battle not to shove her back against the wall and fuck her right here.
I rip open the passenger door, and Liana slides in, her tight dress hugging her ass in a way that makes my mouth water. I’m in the driver’s seat in a heartbeat, slamming the door shut and locking us in our own private world.
The second it’s closed, we’re all over each other. Her hands claw at my shirt, buttons popping as she tears it open, while mine tangle in her hair, yanking her head back so I can devour her mouth. It’s messy, desperate, making up for every second we’ve been apart.
“Fuck, wait—” I rasp, pulling back just enough to catch my breath, my forehead pressed against hers. My chest heaves, my cock throbbing as I try to claw back some control. “We should—”
“Drive, Santino,” she cuts me off, her voice low and dripping with need, her eyes dark, pupils blown wide with lust. She’s looking at me like she wants to eat me alive, and I’m more than ready to let her. “Like last time.”
Last time—the abandoned warehouse, the front seat, her pussy clenching around me in the hottest fucking moment of my life. My hands tighten on her hips, and I’m half a second from losing it.
“Same place?” I ask, my voice rough, needing her to say it, needing to know she’s as desperate for this as I am.
She laughs, a breathless, filthy sound that makes my cock twitch. “Yes, Santino. Same place. Now drive this fucking car as fast as I know you can. I need you.”
“Goddamn,” I growl, kissing her again, hard and dirty, my tongue claiming every inch of her mouth before I force myself to pull away. I start the engine, and the Maserati roars to life, the deep rumble vibrating through us.
I peel out of the lot, tires screeching as I gun it through the city toward the industrial district. Liana’s hand lands on my thigh, her nails digging in, and then she slides higher, brushing over the bulge in my jeans. I hiss, gripping the steering wheel, my cock straining against the fabric.
“You’re gonna make me crash this fucking car,” I warn, as her fingers tease closer to where I’m aching.
“Never,” she purrs, her smile pure sin as she leans over, her lips brushing my ear. “You’re too good for that, baby.” Her hand cups me, squeezing just enough to make me curse.
I take a corner too fast, the Maserati growling as it hugs the curve, the city blurring past us in streaks of light.
I don’t give a shit about the speed or the danger—nothing matters except getting to that warehouse and burying myself in her.
The industrial district comes into view, dark and desolate, and when I spot the abandoned warehouse, I nearly lose it.
I swerve into the lot, gravel crunching under the tires as I park in the darkest corner, hidden from the world. The second the car stops, Liana’s on me, her hands tearing at my belt, her lips crashing into mine with a hunger that matches my own.
“Give me a second,” I growl, my voice thick with need as I adjust the seat.
She doesn’t wait—she climbs over the console, straddling me in one swift move, her dress riding up her thighs to reveal her bare pussy, glistening and ready.
My hands slide up her legs, and I realize she’s recreating that night—the one I’ve been dreaming about for weeks.
“No bra,” I groan, my hands cupping her tits, feeling her hard nipples through the thin fabric of her dress. I pinch them, rolling them between my fingers, and she moans, loud and needy.
“No panties either,” she whispers, her voice dripping with lust as she grinds against me, her wet pussy sliding over me. “Just like last time.”
“Fuck, Liana,” I growl, my hands gripping her ass as I pull her closer, feeling her heat. “You’re killing me.”
“Worth it,” she teases, her lips brushing mine before she kisses me harder. She gets my belt undone, yanks the zipper down, and then her hand is on my cock, stroking me with a slow, deliberate grip that makes my vision blur.
“Liana—” I choke out, my hips bucking into her hand as she works me, her thumb smearing the precum over the tip. “I need to be inside you. Now.”
“Then take me,” she says, her voice raw with need as she shifts, positioning herself over me. “Take what is yours, Santino.”
I don’t need another word. I guide my cock to her entrance, and when I thrust up, sinking into her tight, wet pussy, we both groan, the sound filling the car. She’s so fucking perfect, gripping me like a vice, and her nails dig into my shoulders, leaving marks I’ll wear like a badge.
“Santino—” she moans, her head falling back as she starts to move, riding me slow and deep, her pussy clenching around me with every roll of her hips.
“Fuck, I know,” I growl, kissing her hard, my tongue plunging into her mouth as I thrust up to meet her, driving deeper. “You feel so damn good.”