He lifted his head a moment later, still squeezing her breasts in his hands. She stared down at him, panting. He seemed transfixed as he stared at her, his thumbs rubbing her slick, erect nipples. Her clit pinched in arousal at the vision, and she whimpered. His avid stare transferred to her face.
“Why are you doing this to me?’ he asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, overwhelmed by the question for some reason. His nostrils flared, his mouth slanting as if he found her answer wanting. He shifted his weight to the side of her and reached for the bikini top, which was still fastened below her breasts. He whipped the material off her a second later and pushed himself off the bed.
“Come here,” he said, his mouth hard but his touch on her hand gentle enough as he pulled her into a sitting position. “Stand up. I’m going to tie your hands behind your back.
She stood, eying him warily. Nevertheless, she turned her back to him and let him bind her wrists at her lower back with the skimpy fabric and strings of her bikini top. He spun her back around with his hands on her shoulders. She opened her mouth to ask him what he planned, but suddenly his mouth was covering hers and she was enveloped in his angry, hot consumption.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked him a moment later when he abruptly ended their kiss.
“I don’t know. Maybe,” he snarled. “Yes. You’re making me feel so damn . . .”
“What?” she whispered when his deep voice caught.
“Alive,” he grated out, his eyes a little wild. “It . . . hurts.”
“Vanni—” she whispered, confused and concerned by his words, but he was having none of her compassion. He was single-minded in his desire to burn. He pushed lightly on her shoulders.
“Go down on your knees,” he said.
She blinked, considering denying him. But then she looked into his eyes and saw all the anguish and confusion and white-hot need exposed there. She’d done that, by insisting they talk about Cristina and her dying words. His feelings were natural. What’s more, they were as right as a storm letting loose after all that pressure built for so many years.
She let her weight go. He felt it and tightened his hold on her shoulders, guiding her to her knees. She stared at his crotch. Only his swim shorts covered his cock. It was tenting the fabric, trapped by it, straining to be released. Vanni liberated it with a vicious jerk of the shorts out over his cock and down to his thighs. His erection sprung free, heavy and tumescent. He stepped toward her, his hand cupping the back of her head. She looked up at him as he fisted the thick shaft and lifted it to her lips. What she saw in his blazing eyes made her want to cry. There was an apology shining through all that feral heat. He needn’t be sorry. She understood his exposed pain, maybe more than he did.
She opened her lips and he guided his cock between them. They stretched around his girth as he pushed the fat, turgid crown across her tongue. A rough groan rattled his throat when she polished the head with her tongue. He flexed his hips back, withdrawing, only to pierce her mouth again. She strained to bathe the shaft with her tongue, but he tightened his hold on her head, gripping at her hair.
“Stay still,” he rasped. She did as he asked while he plunged the first several inches of his cock in and out of her mouth rapidly. Heat spread in her cheeks. Her pussy tingled. She kept her lips a rigid ring around him, but otherwise, he wouldn’t let her do much . . . except be the target of his desire. For some reason, being forced not to move made her crave his cock more. Her tongue pressed hard up against that delicious, quarter-inch-thick ridge below the fat crown. He groaned and his fingers flexed tighter in her hair. She clamped his cock so hard her mouth hurt and sucked until her cheeks collapsed from the vacuum.
“Holy . . .” He said something else, but it was on a groan and she couldn’t make it out. Holding her head firmly, he flexed, sending his cock further into her mouth, filling her. Overfilling her. Her eyes opened wide, but then he was granting her a reprieve. He was back almost immediately, though. This time, she continued to suck hungrily, needing him. The tip touched her throat and she gagged reflexively. He withdrew, but she craned forward, not letting him escape so easily. He loosened his hold slightly on her hair, and she felt it. She ducked her head back and forth, taking him a fraction of an inch further each time, her craving overcoming her body’s instinct to reject him. She found it grew easier with each pass.
“Dammit, Emma,” he bit out above her, and then he was holding her still again, but his cock kept coming, driving into her mouth, wild and ruthless. She let herself be the center of the storm for a stretched moment, surrendering to his need.
A vicious curse ripped out of his throat, and his cock was sliding out of her mouth. It was jarring, to be so suddenly empty of him. She opened her eyes and stared up at him, confused. His mouth was slanted in a thin line. He reached down, lifting her with a hand beneath her elbows. His jutting, damp cockhead pushed against her belly when he leaned down over, untying her top and freeing her wrists.
“Why do you always have to test me?” he growled, jerking impatiently at the strings.
“I thought you said I always seemed out of your reach,” she said dazedly, her throat raspy from taking his cock so deep. “I was just trying to show you I’m not.”
He ripped the top over hands. “We’ll talk about it later,” he said. “Right now, take off the panties and go and lie on the bed.”
Panting softly, she did what he said, her anticipation and wary excitement building by the second. She lay on her back on the mattress, her head on the pillows.
“Move to the center of the bed,” he said. “And spread your thighs.”
He waited until she’d taken the position before he shoved his shorts off his legs. Cupping his jutting erection from below, he stalked toward the bed. He flicked his hand over the length, sending a hot stab of excitement through her, before he came onto the bed on his hands and knees, kneeling over her. He reached between her thighs and palmed her outer sex, almost immediately sending his middle finger into her slit. She gasped, staring up at him, helpless in her desire as he finger fucked her.
“You’re soaking wet,” he grated out, white teeth flashing.
“I told you I was no angel,” she choked wryly.
“But you are,” he snarled, withdrawing his finger and grasping his cock. “Sent here to test me. Now . . . spread your thighs farth
er.”
He placed one hand on her inner knee and pushed back firmly so that her thigh rose and her hips rolled back on the bed. He presented the head of his cock to her slit, flexing, forcing her to part for the swollen tip. His hand made a swiping motion, scattering the pillows next to her head off the bed before it settled next to her head. He held her stare, his gaze blazing, as he slowly thrust his cock into her. She clenched her teeth at the hard, relentless pressure. A muscle jumped in his cheek. His balls pressed tight against her outer sex and she bit off a scream.
“Put your hands above your head,” he said. “Hold on to your wrists. You’re not allowed to move them. I couldn’t take your hands on me right now.”