Dante’s eyes turn darker with intense desire. Hot, misty air fans my face, sending chills down my spine when he slides the shower door open.
He doesn’t wait longer. He grabs my waist and breathes out, sinking into my lips like a starving man, but this is not what I had in mind. We’ve been in bed two, sometimes three times a day during the last two weeks. He taught me many different things, but there’s one thing we haven’t got to yet. One thing that I’m eager to try.
I drop to my knees, wrapping my hand around his stiff, long cock, and close my lips on the swollen head.
“Fuck,” he growls, fisting my hair. “Layla...”
I take him deeper, cutting his incoming protest short, and glance up at his aroused face. The fire dancing in his eyes eradicates my unease, the irrational worry that I won’t do a good job. I twirl my tongue, licking off the first salty drop, exhilarated by his taste.
The control I have while my hand pumps in sync with my mouth makes me press my hips together in desperate need of friction. Every one of his hastened breaths, every growl, and tug on my hair fuel my desire.
“That’s it, good girl,” he mutters. “Faster, baby.”
Muscles in my abdomen spasm when he grips my head, adjusting my moves to his preference. I let him because, in bed, he makes the rules. He’s in control.
He holds me still, moving his hips, filling my mouth with more inches, and the head of his cock hits the back of my throat. “Ready for me, Star?” he rasps. “In or out?”
I claw at his thighs, holding him in place. The low, satisfied growl rumbling deep within his chest sends a jolt of electricity zapping through my body. Two more moves, and he comes, spilling in my mouth, his body rigid for a few intense seconds before he slides out with a soft pop.
He’s breathing faster as he looks down at me, wiping a trickle of his cum from the corner of my lips. “You’ve no idea how beautiful you are when you’re on your knees for me.” He hauls me up, pinning me against the tiles. “My turn.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Dante
“You’ve got a snitch among your people.”
My informant’s words echo in the depths of my mind. If Layla hadn’t barged into the bathroom, willingly dropping to her knees for me last night, I would’ve left her to meet up with Spades and Nate.
Finding the rat is a priority.
Obviously not that fucking big, considering I preferred a surprisingly good blowjob and an hour-long session in bed with my girl over preparing a plan of action to find the mole.
My priorities have been in the drain since she came along. It’ll fucking get me killed if I don’t cap the crazy.
Just like I have someone among Frank’s men, Frank has a snitch among mine. Until recently, I knew who the double agent was—James. He became a part of my crew by accident, stumbling upon a business meeting gone bad. He witnessed Spades torturing a scumbag who owed me half a million dollars. I had two choices: kill him or employ him. I chose the latter. My bad. Three weeks later, Nate discovered that James was working forDaddy dearest.
Frank’s not as lucky. I didn’t plant a new guy among his people. No, I recruited someone who has worked with him for years. Someone he trusts—Kyle Shaner, first cousin of Frank’s great uncle’s daughter. Or something along those lines.
Kyle rang when Layla and I were on our way to the airport, heading home. He hadn’t yet found the identity of the snitch but said that Frankie knew about my meeting with Julij, which narrows down the list of suspects.
If not for the difficult choice, sex with Layla or chit-chat with Spades, I would’ve dragged my most trusted people out of bed to form a plan of action and find the fucking snitch. Knowingwhomeans I get to control what he reports back to Frank. Not long before I met Layla, James vanished. The coincidence didn’t strike me as odd until now. My natural suspiciousness takes over, posing irrational questions and making me wonder if Layla walking into my life was just luck. Not many people knew about my meeting with Julij. My main entourage, Julij’s people, andLayla.
I squeeze the bridge of my nose. Nikolaj’s imminent death, and the long-awaited changes it foreshadows, I doubt everyone for no good reason. Layla can’t be a spy. She stays out of my work at all costs, so she has nothing to tell Frank. And it’s not like she’s fond of the guy.
She loves me.
She said it more times than I can fucking count.
The snitch could be anyone, really; someone smart enough to connect my visit to New York with the brief time Nikolaj has left, one of my guys’ girls, or even Frank himself. He’s a manipulative bastard, after all. He could’ve guessed I met with Julij and fed the idea to his people to catch the mole he knows I have up North.
It’s eight in the morning, but Layla’s no longer in bed. Naughty girl. She shouldn’t have left before I could eat her pussy for breakfast.
I reach for my phone to call Spades, ignoring the hour.
“It better be important,” he mutters, half asleep.
“Kyle called; we’ve got a new snitch. Get yourself together, pick up Nate, and I want you at my house in two hours.”