“Elia,” she whimpers, hips jutting forward and connecting with mine. Her hands slide up my arms and around my shoulders, nails biting the skin at the back of my neck. But she doesn’t try to push me away or duck out. Instead, she leverages against me, hoists herself onto the island, and wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me in close. “I want you to fuck me, but I don’t want to do it here. Not in front of Luca.”
My nostrils flare against her skin, and I pull back, straightening my spine to look in her eyes. “Well,carina, the choice is yours.Either we do thisnow, and I let your little boy-toy walk, or I head back over there and put a bullet in his mouth, then fuck you beside his corpse. It doesn’t make a difference to me.”
“Isn’t it enough that younearlykilled him?”
“No.” I give her an incredulous look. “Cristo, Caroline, you honestly don’t know how men like me operate.”
She licks her lips, dropping her gaze to my mouth. “How are you any better than Kieran Ivers, if you do that? If jealousy clouds your judgment? How can you keep from hurting me if you kill the people I care about?”
“I would appreciate it if you didn’t utter that name when I’ve got my hands on you.” Just the mention of that Irish fucker has my dick softening.
She leans forward, pressing her tits into my chest. Through the thin fabric of her tank and bra, I can feel her puckered nipples brush against me, hot enough to sear a hole through my dress shirt. “You married me and then left me alone for a week. We married out of convenience. I’m not mad about the fact that you smell like perfume right now, why are you so livid about this?”
I don’t have a single fucking clue.
There’s a persistent sensation pooling in the back of my mind, in the dark part of my heart, that wishes she were more. That wants her to be my saving grace, my redemption—a spring goddess, wrought from the earth to heal me, even though I am entirely undeserving.
But I know she doesn’t want that. She has some hidden agenda, some secret reasoning for marrying me, and it pisses me off that Luca seems to know about it—that he has an in with her, and she won’t give meanything.
Thinking of him with his hand in her shorts, sharing her secrets and mouth, sends electricity up my spine, hot enough to sever the cord from my brain. I slide my hand from my wife’s neck around her back, palm flattening and fitting her flush against me.
“I don’t fucking carewhatthis is,” I growl into her hairline. “You’remine, and I will destroy anyone who thinks they can take you from me. And I won’t stop until these streets run rampant with their blood. Now, turn around and put your hands on the counter.”
“Elia…”
“Caroline.I’m losing my fucking patience. Either turn around or get on your fucking knees.”
“I think we should talk about boundaries and expectations. We hardly know each other, and I’m just not sure getting hot and heavy every time we’re together is doing us any favors.”
“Honestly, I don’t give a shit what you think. Turn around and spread your fucking legs before I do it for you.”
Heat flashes in her eyes; she hesitates for a moment, defiance flickering like an electrical fire, wild and out of control.
After a moment, she pushes my arms aside, turning on a three-hundred-sixty-degree angle. Jutting her perky ass into my groin, she flattens her hands against the marble, arching her back and glancing over her shoulder.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
Has there ever been anything sexier than this? The prim and proper, fiery daughter of a U.S. Senator submitting to her mafia boss husband.Fucking perfection.
My dick’s never been harder, and it pulses painfully against her. “Jesus,mio amore.” I swallow over the knot forming in my throat, suddenly nervous. The gentle curve of her ass, clad in these shorts, beckons me, a siren leading sailors to their death, and I run my hands over her, cupping the backs of her thighs.
She starts to turn her head toward Luca, whose moans have silenced in the minutes since I beat his scrawny ass, but I reach forward and fist her hair, using it to press the side of her face into the counter. “I didn’t tell you to move. Remain absolutely still, and maybe we’ll both make it out of this alive.”
Her fingers stretch, body tense. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, I think you know.” My free hand explores her body, squeezing her tit through her shirt and sliding around to hook in her waistband. “Are you wet for me, baby?”
She doesn’t answer, and a slight chuckle works its way from me as I push her shorts down over her hips. This is the first time I’m actually seeing her bare, under bright lights; as her luscious ass and the half-moon of her pretty pink pussy come into view, I find myself following the movement of her shorts, unable to keep away.
Releasing my grip on her head, I fall to my knees, the sight of her dripping and swollen andvulnerable,knocking the wind out of me. I shuck off my suit jacket, tossing it somewhere over my shoulder, and shove the sleeves of my shirt to my elbows, pushing my clunkyCartierwatch further up my arm.
“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.” Reaching up with both hands, I spread her pussy lips wide open, thumbing through the juices collecting at her entrance and spreading them up to her clit.
Her hips buck, banging into the cabinetry, as I pinch the bundle of nerves, probing her seam.
“You’re such a liar, Caroline. You’redrenched.”
“I never said I wasn’t,” she breathes, leaning to press her forehead into the countertop. The angle gives me more access, spreading her wider, and I nudge her thighs apart even more, fitting my head between them.