He nudges up against my back hole and I stiffen. "It’ll hurt."
"I’m counting on it."
"Wh-a-t?" I manage to crack open my eyelids and stare at him over my shoulder.
The skin around his lips is tainted pink. With blood. With my blood. My period blood. Jesus Christ. Why is that so forbidden? And so primal? So erotic?
He chuckles. The jerk actually chuckles. The vibrations rumble up his chest and seem to light up my veins. Even when he’s being mean, he’s so gorgeous.
"I hate you," I whisper.
"No, you don’t." His lips curl and he leans down to place his mouth over mine. He breathes in my air, then nips on my lower lip, and I’m a goner. I open my mouth, and he swoops in. He curls his tongue over mine, and I can taste the metallic tang of my blood on him. Heat flushes my chest. I should find it gross, but somehow, it feels intimate. It feels like I’m baring myself to him. The fact that my being on my period did not stop him from taking me is so freeing.
He tilts his mouth and kisses me so deeply, I can feel it in my extremities. He fingers my pussy and circles my clit, and flames leap to life in my belly. He pushes his cock inside me, and pain shivers over my nerve-endings. He slides his finger inside my wet channel, then adds a second, and a third. He curves his fingers in a way that ignites a trail of lust under my skin. He pulls his fingers out, then thrusts all three of them inside me and I gasp. My thighs tremble. The scent of my arousal is so strong that my entire body seems to turn to jelly.
"Let me in." He licks my lips, and I can’t deny him. I push my butt back and he slides in past the tight ring of muscle.
"Oh, god," I whimper. "Oh, my god."
He fits his lips on mine again and plunges his tongue inside my mouth. At the same time, he weaves his fingers in and out of me, then brings up his other hand to pinch my nipple. My scalp tingles, my toes curl, and my entire body seems to go up in flames. That’s when he slips all the way inside. Too much, too full. He stretches me and holds me pinned around his cock, as I moan into his mouth. The heat of his body swirls over me, and the scent of him envelops me. His fingers, his tongue, his shaft… He’s consuming me, holding me captive by filling each one of my holes with him. He tweaks my nipple harder, and I clamp down on his cock.
"Gesù Cristo," he growls into my mouth. "You’re so fucking tight. So hot, so incredibly responsive, Angel. You’re strangling my dick, and it’s the most incredible sensation ever." He pulls out of me, then plunges into me with enough force for his balls to slap against my skin. My breasts jiggle, and my body jolts. He kisses me hard, then clamps his big palm around the nape of my neck and urges me back down. I push my cheek into the pillow, and dig my fingers into the sheets. He tightens his grip on my hip, then begins to fuck me in earnest. Each time he buries himself inside me, he seems to fill me further. Each time he pulls out, my body hungers for more. I didn’t know it could be like this. I always treated anal with a healthy respect, but always thought it wasn’t for me. I didn’t realize just how erotic it could be with the right person. With Luca. With this crazyCapowho continues to restrain me with his fingers around the nape of my neck as he continues to bury himself in my ass. He pulls out, yet again, and this time, when he lunges forward, he bottoms out inside me. He releases his hold on my hip, drives his fingers inside my pussy and scissors them. That’s enough. My entire body jolts. The ball of desire in my belly snaps. He leans forward, covers my back with his chest, and presses his mouth to my ear. "Come for me, Angel. Come right now." I climax instantly.
48
Luca
I weave my fingers through the strands of her curly hair. So silken, so smooth. I bring them up to my nose and sniff. Rose petals. If anyone had told me I’d be addicted to the scent of roses, I’d have laughed at them. Yet here I am, drawing in lungfuls of her scent, and my dick instantly twitches. Clearly there’s a direct connection between her fragrance and my cock. I draw my hand back. She moans and turns in my direction, as if reaching for me. I freeze, waiting until her breathing grows more regular. Her dark lashes fan her cheekbones. Her pink lips are turned up slightly at the sides as if she’s smiling in her sleep. I put that look of satisfaction on her face.
After I took her ass, she slumped into sleep. I pulled out of her carefully, then walked over to the bathroom, got a warm, wet towel and cleaned her up. Then turned her over, unwrapped the tampon, and slid it into her. I had just enough time to pull the sheets over us before I spooned her and fell asleep.
When I woke up—with a hard-on—we were facing each other. I allowed myself to survey her features for a few more minutes. Lingered long enough to risk waking her up. The morning light slants through the gaps in the curtains. Soon, she’ll be awake, and I’ll have to take her to the opening night show. She’ll insist on going; I know that. And it’s not going to be safe.
Whoever attempted to kill her last night will, no doubt, try again. I’m going to have to try to protect her, but how? It’s not a job I can do on my own. I can’t be everywhere all the time. Much as I hate to admit it, although I’m theCapoof theCosa Nostra,I’ll still need to ask for the Don’s help. It’ll help even the odds somewhat… I hope.
I head for the bathroom, have a quick shower, then pull on my clothes. I move toward the bed, pull the cover up, and make sure she’s tucked in. Then, I kiss my wife carefully, making sure not to wake her before I turn and head down the stairs.
A coffee first, before I leave. I know I’m delaying, butcazzo, it’s not every day one must swallow one’s ego and ask one’s bigger brother for help. I walk into the kitchen, then stop.
"The fuck you doing here?"
Massimo glances over his shoulder from his position in front of the doors that lead onto the deck. In front of him, the waves of the Tyrrhenian Sea stretch out. The morning light highlights the dark circles under his eyes. His cheekbones stand out in relief. His hair is mussed, his jaw unshaven. He’s not wearing a jacket—a first for Massimo—his tie is loosened, and his shirt is rumpled.
"You look like shit," I drawl.
His face doesn’t change expression. "Needed a cup of coffee."
As if to mark his words, thebialettion the stove begins to bubble, and the scent of espresso fills the space.
I walk over to the stove and switch off the flame. Then grab two espresso cups and pour the coffee in them. I walk over to Massimo, hand him a cup, then slide the doors open and step onto the deck.
With the first sip of the espresso, my head clears. With the second sip, my blood begins to pump, and by the third, I’m almost ready for this upcoming conversation with Michael. Almost.
"You didn't come to my place to get a cup of coffee, did you? What's on your mind?" I ask.
He drains his coffee then places it down on the railing with a snap, before he glances away. "She’s in love with someone else."
"What?" I blink. "Who are you talking about?"