The second I slipped my finger through her slit, I moaned. “Jesus, Doe. You’re dripping.” I pushed a digit inside her, and another groan sounded from the back of my throat as I felt her wet walls close around my finger.
With my other hand, I unzipped my pants and pulled out my aching cock. It was fucking torture, being this turned on—this desperate to fuck. But there was one thing I needed to do first.
“Lascia che ti adori.” Let me worship you.
I fell to my knees and spread her pussy wide before dragging my tongue in circles around her outer lips. The moans that came from her mouth were like porn to my fucking ears.
I looked up while sucking on her clit. Her head was leaning against the cage, her mouth forming the perfect O. She was reached back, clutching the steel bars of the cage above her head, the bloodstains still on her hands.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I sucked harder, my tongue moving faster all the way from her clit down to her opening and back up. The taste of her was like an aphrodisiac sent from the heavens. As if God himself had made her body and everything inside it just for me.
Just. For. Me.
“Antonio.” My name had never sounded so sweet coming from her mouth. Her hips started to move, forcing my mouth harder against her greedy cunt. “I’m going to come.”
“You better fucking do it on my tongue, Doe.”
With my thumbs, I spread her pussy wide fucking open, the tip of my tongue teasing her clit. More moans, more rocking of hips. When her body started to shudder, I knew she was at the edge. As I pushed two fingers inside her, my tongue still playing her pussy like a fucking violin, she came. My queen came on my fucking tongue, and it was the most intense, most beautiful thing I’d ever experienced.
I straightened and looked deep into her stunning dark eyes. “I love you, Doe.”
“I love you too,” she whispered.
And then I fucked my woman against the steel bars like there was no tomorrow.
***
In the car on our way home, I could practically hear the wheels turning inside her head. With a quick glimpse at her hands, I noticed how she played with her cuticles, still partly stained with dry blood.
“You okay?”
“Who is Mancuso?”
My heart stopped. My fucking heart just stopped beating. “Where did you hear that name?”
“Lorik mentioned it the other night at Vertigo when you all came rushing into the bathroom. I asked him about it after we got home, but he told me to ask you.”
I looked straight ahead of me, my eyes on the road, yet my focus was far from it. “Stefano Mancuso is head of a rival family.” My answer was short and clipped, hoping she would figure out the topic wasn’t up for discussion.
“He said his name too.”
I gave a sideways glance. “Who did?”
“Renato. Right before he bled to death. He whispered the name Mancuso.”
“Doe, the man’s tongue was cut out and his throat was slit. I doubt he was able to say anything.” There was a fucking reason I cut out his goddamn tongue. It wasn’t because I was angry. It wasn’t because I lost my shit and thought the best way to keep me from killing him was to cut out his tongue. No. He lost his tongue because I couldn’t chance him saying anything to Doe. Anything that would make her fit the pieces together and figure out who her real father was.
Doe turned in her seat to face me. “He said the name Mancuso. I heard it.”
“Well, you heard wrong.”
“I didn’t.”
I shot her a warning glare, not liking the way she challenged me. But what the fuck did I expect? It was because of me the woman finally got a backbone.
My silence was all I could give her. I was so taken aback by this, I didn’t know what the fuck to say.