Their Naughty Kisses (Kissing Them #2)

Chapter 1

MADISON

The house is empty, and too quiet, after Seth drops his bombshell and leaves. He’s going to Europe. I’ll be knocking around in this giant house, sorting through my aunt’s belongings, I guess. It beats spending the afternoon obsessing about Seth.

In one of the guest rooms, I find another closet full of her clothes.

They span decades. I try a few dresses on, spinning this way and that.

Many of them fit me, which is a fun surprise.

Some of the gowns were created by famous designers, and I get stars in my eyes when I catch their names on discreet labels.

Very few of the gowns are actually to my taste, but I find a classic black sheath dress.

When I try it on, it fits me perfectly. I turn this way and that, admiring myself in the ornate mirror propped in the corner.

The mirror reflects the window behind me, and movement outside makes me jump. I clutch my chest in fear before the shape moves out from under the citrus trees. It’s none other than Ford on a riding lawnmower.

I frown. He never said anything about coming by. I don’t feel like I can complain—he’s mowing my lawn, after all. Maybe he thinks I can’t handle it? To be fair, the grass was getting pretty long. I’ve been planning to hire someone to maintain the grounds, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.

It would probably be rude to shout at him to go away. Besides, wasn’t I just sad about the fact I don’t have any friends? Ford could be a friend. When he’s done, I’ll invite him in for a coffee.

Once he finishes mowing, however, he doesn’t knock on the door or disturb me in any way. I try to watch for him leaving so I can say at least say thanks, but he disappears.

Odd, but maybe that’s just who he is.

The rest of the day passes quickly as I sort through Vivienne’s books.

I don’t get the sense that she had any particular attachment to the classic hardcovers in the library.

Her collection of Cold War nonfiction, however, looks like an obsession.

Some of these books seem pretty obscure, and some are in languages other than English.

I don’t even recognize the alphabet on one of them.

I don’t have the heart to donate these books, not quite yet, but there might be a library somewhere that would want to expand their collection.

I think the Corbin, in downtown San Esteban, carries special collections like this.

Sunlight streams through the window, warming the soft rug where I sit.

This might be my favorite room in the house.

After examining the books, I go to a large desk hunkered at the other end of the room.

I sit in the cushy chair and give it a little spin.

It’s hard to think of this grand old house as mine, but getting to know the furniture and the contents is helping.

Resolved to learn more about the desk, and my aunt, I start opening drawers.

Mostly, I find what I expect. Pens and pencils, notepads with decorative borders, paperclips, and so on.

However, tucked into the bottom drawer is a tin box. The latch is tricky. I carefully wiggle it up and down until I can pry it open. Inside, I find a stack of letters bound together with a faded red ribbon. They’re still in their envelopes, addressed to my great-aunt.

I carefully untie the ribbon and ease out the top letter. I unfold it and I’m immediately disappointed. It’s in the alphabet I don’t recognize. What is this called—Cyrillic, I think? Maybe my phone can translate it. I download an app and hold the camera over the letter.

The translation appears like magic.

My love V—

Too many days since we held each other. I miss you, little fish. The other day, D— was talking and talking about her upcoming marriage to A—. She asked if there’s a young man I would like to marry. I said no. It isn’t a lie, but it was not honest, either.

The letter goes on, talking about day-to-day happenings in the writer’s life, and it’s signed with an initial, I.

I wonder who I was. A lover, it sounds like.

I’m still puzzling over it when a text comes in from Damiano.

It has been a long day. I need to see you. I’m on my way over.

Smiling, I type back, See you soon!

I take a look at myself—I’m dusty from looking through Great-Aunt Vivienne’s closets, books, and desk. My hair is pulled back in braided pigtails that are coming undone.

I probably have time for a quick shower, but nothing else. Well, if he doesn’t give me enough warning before coming over, he gets what he gets.

One hyper-speed shower later, and I’m in clean sweatpants and a soft hoodie, opening the door for Damiano.

“Bella.” He opens his arms.

I throw myself into his embrace, jumping so that he has to pick me up. He laughs and whirls me around, covering my mouth with his in a kiss that starts playful, but soon turns possessive.

He steps forward until my back is to the wall, then rubs against me. His cock is hard. I bump my hips forward, seeking more of that heated friction.

“See what you do to me, beautiful?” He nips my neck. “This painful erection is your fault, you wicked girl. I should make you get on your knees and fix it for me.”

Instead of demanding anything, he kisses me. I tease him by sliding my tongue against his. I suck his tongue when he plunges it into my mouth, just the way I’d suck his cock.

“You are an incorrigible tease.” He steps back from the wall and sets me on my feet. “Just for that, you must finish what you’ve started.”

Gladly. I kneel at his feet and look up, awaiting instruction. This bossy man loves taking control. He stares down at me without speaking for a long moment, his dark eyes taking me in.

“Take my cock out of my pants.” He reaches down to stroke my cheek. “Then take me in your mouth.”

I unbutton and unzip his pants, reaching in to cup my hand over his length. He’s warm through his boxer briefs. I tug them down and hold the base of his cock in my hand. Slowly, I lean forward and lick the tip.

“You’re a little tease, aren’t you?” he asks in a raspy voice.

I lick him again, little flicks of my tongue. Pre-come emerges from his cock and I lick that, too.

“Madison,” he says, voice low, “that’s enough teasing.”

I grin up at him, then slide my lips over the crown and down his length. His masculine groan causes my thighs to clench reflexively.

“Play with your nipples while you suck me, bella,” he rasps.

I lift my hoodie and cup my breasts over my bra, flicking my thumbs over my nipples. The fabric of my bra gives the touch a different texture, heightening my sensitivity. Arousal floods my panties while I continue to lick and suck Damiano. This feels so fucking good, I can barely stand it.

“Nice.” Damiano rests his hand on the top of my head. “So nice. I’ll come soon.”

I hum encouragement. I crave his pleasure; I want him to fall apart even though I’m kneeling at his feet. I slide my tongue up and down his length, sucking at the tip before moving my mouth down over him again. I bring one of my hands up to lightly squeeze his balls.

“Fuck, bella—” He spills, salty and tangy, over my tongue. I drink him down, moaning in satisfaction. For a long moment, he stands completely still, his hand possessive on my head.

“Bella,” he rasps. “Take off your clothes and go to the dining room.”

I quickly shed my sweatpants and hoodie before removing my bra and my very wet panties. Completely naked, I walk to the dining room. There, I stand in front of the table, wondering what he’s going to do.

He enters the room a minute later. His gaze is searing as he looks me up and down. “Do you know why I wanted you in the dining room?”

“No, Sir.”

“Because I’m going to feast on you, bella.” He approaches and grabs my waist, moving me so I’m sitting on the edge of the table. “Spread your thighs for me.”

Feeling self-conscious, I hesitate. But Damiano’s gaze is so full of heat, of desire, I can’t resist obeying. I pull my legs apart, exposing myself to him.

“Che bellissima.” He grabs a chair and pulls it over so he can sit down in front of me. “Now I shall feast.”

He kisses my inner thigh and I’m taken back to that first night with him at Low Vice. How attentive he was, how eager he seemed to be for my pleasure.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he murmurs against my skin.

“So good. I want more, Damiano. Sir.”

“Yes, I will give you more. Open wider.” He grips my thighs with his hands, pushing my legs farther apart.

For a long, breathtaking moment, he gazes at my pussy. I blush under his scrutiny.

He meets my gaze briefly, smiling. “Don’t be embarrassed of your beauty. I am going to lick every part of you until you scream.”

He bends forward, his breath ghosting against my flesh.

And then—his phone rings. He flinches, but to his credit, he doesn’t reach for it. Instead, he continues kissing his way up my thigh. I try to focus on the feeling of his lips, the delightfully rough stubble of his chin, the commanding way he holds my legs apart with his hands.

His phone rings again, followed by chimes of multiple text messages. I can’t ignore them.

I sit up, annoyed. “You should get that, see what they want.”

“No, I promised us a feast.” He nuzzles my knee.

But his stupid phone continues to buzz and chime and make a general nuisance out of itself.

“Damiano.” I tap his shoulder. “It sounds important.”

“It can wait. I want to finish you, first—”

I sigh and scoot away from him, up the table. I’m going to have to wash the tablecloth, but that was already on my to-do list as soon as I got naked and sat here. “The mood’s ruined. Just—go take care of your emergency, okay?”

He gives me a hurt look, but the buzzing of his phone has completely gotten under my skin. I’m still aroused, but my patience has dried up.

“Bella.” He kisses my knee. “Please, I can stay.”

I give a pointed look toward his jacket, where his phone continues to chime and buzz in the inner pocket. “Just go, okay?”

“Yes.” He stands up and kisses me, perfunctory. “I am sorry.”

I stay where I am, waiting until I hear the sound of the door closing after him. I get up, shaking with dwindling lust, and put on my clothes.