Curious, I let my nails drag across his shoulders, watching that fire flicker higher as his hips jerked into me.
It wasn’t until I raked them down his back, though, that he finally started to move inside me.
Not soft or sweet, like everything up until that moment had been.
But hard, deep, passionate.
My hips rose to meet his thrusts as his lips crashed down on mine. Borderline bruising. But I was so wrapped up in the intensity of it, the possessiveness of him at that moment, that I didn’t even care about that.
The pleasure built slowly in my system until Brio grabbed me suddenly, holding me to his body as he rolled us, changing out positions.
But instead of having me upright, he pulled my body down over his so his hands could grab my face, framing it as his hips started to thrust up into me.
My own hips started moving in small circles, intensifying the sensation as he drove me upward faster and faster, his gaze holding mine hostage even as my walls tightened around him, even as the orgasm reached that precipice.
His hands held me there as the first waves started to crash through my system, leaving me crying out. Only then did his arms go around me, pulling me to his chest, burying my face in his neck as he kept thrusting through my orgasm, dragging it out, then finding his own as mine faded.
And it was my name on his lips.
“Ezzy.”
I swear he said it like a promise.
Like a vow.
But to what or about what, I had no idea. And, really, it was probably my pleasure-sated brain coming up with ridiculous thoughts more so than the reality of the situation.
Brio didn’t immediately move away from me afterward.
Instead, his rough hands seemed like they couldn’t get enough of me, moving up and down my back, over my ass, then back up to massage into my shoulders before finally sifting through my hair.
It was actually me who moved first when my hips started to ache from being in that position too long, making me roll off to the side.
Brio didn’t seem to like the separation, though, because his arm slid under my body, rolling it back until I settled with my head on his chest once again, my cheek resting over his heart.
“What now?” I asked when the silence seemed to stretch on indefinitely.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his hand stilling in my hair.
“I mean… what now? What happens now?”
To that, there was a long silence, Brio just as lost as I was about the situation.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“I have to go back to the apartment tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Because… I live there,” I said, shrugging. “I can’t keep racking up hotel bills.”
“Don’t worry about the hotel,” he said, and it was such a, well, mafia thing to say that a strange little snorting laugh escaped me.
“It’s more than that, though. I need to know what is ahead of me now. I know nothing about Eren’s finances, about his plans for after his death. If he even had any. Or what this means in terms of my agreement with the Polat family. And Berat in particular. They clearly want to know what I am up to if they are following me.”
“You need a phone,” Brio said, not denying anything I said, not trying to claim it was nothing to worry about, or that he could sweep it all under the rug for me.
And, strangely enough, I appreciated that.
I’d spent enough time having everything I did dictated by a man, controlled by someone else, that I didn’t want someone else doing that again.
I wanted to handle my own life.
“If you don’t want a trail, we can get you a burner. Keep the ringer off and have it hidden if you don’t want anyone knowing about it.”
I would feel better with a phone.
Especially since I didn’t have any idea what was going on with the Polats, if I would be safe.
“Okay. That’s a good idea.”
“You can call me if you need me,” he added, making my heart do a little squeeze in my chest.
“For what?” I asked.
“Anything,” he said, shrugging.
“You’re going to need to be more specific,” I told him.
“You’re getting heat from Berat. You want to do this again,” he said, one of his hands giving my ass cheek a little squeeze. “You need help opening a jar. Anything.”
“And what about… you know… your… Family?” I asked.
“I gotta talk to them. Just like you gotta talk to Berat. We need more information. And then you are going to need to meet with my boss.”
“For what?”
“To tell him what you know. To work out a plan.”
“What kind of plan?”
“Guess that depends on what kind of situation Eren left. And what Berat has up his sleeve.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
“It’s important you don’t push, though,” Brio warned. “Men like Berat, that won’t go over well. Better to listen and read between the lines. Come off stupid if and when you can, let him think you’re not a threat.”