by Celia Aaron
“It’s yours.” I meant the words, because nothing had ever been more true.
“Fuck, Angel.” He leaned down, his body looming over mine, and took a nipple into his mouth.
I dug my nails into his scalp as he tested the hard peak with his tongue. He turned his wrist and eased a long finger down my slit to my entrance.
He released my nipple. “I can’t stop now. You know that, right?” He moved to the other nipple and licked it like a cat licking cream. “If you told me to stop, I couldn’t do it. If you ran, I’d chase you, pin you to the floor, and fuck you like an animal.”
My hips bucked up of their own accord.
He grinned, feral and dark. “Is that what you want?”
“I want you.” My breathless voice seemed to spur him onto greater violence, his teeth marking the tender flesh of my breast. I wanted every bite.
When he kissed to my stomach, I shuddered at the new sensations, the tickling and erotic feeling of his tongue. And when he delved lower and grazed my clit, my back bowed and I bit my lip.
“You like that?” He did it again. Then again. “I need you to tell me what you like. Teach me what you want.” When he sealed his mouth to the tenderest parts of me, I pressed the back of my wrist to my mouth to stifle my cry.
His tongue explored every bit of me as if searching for weak spots. When he pushed inside, I tensed. But he pressed his palms against my thighs and spread me wider, opening me to him fully. His tongue fucked me slowly at first, then deeper and faster until I moved my hips to his pace. Pulling away, he replaced his tongue with a finger.
“This is mine.” He said it as he watched his finger disappear inside me.
“Yours,” I breathed.
He surged his finger deeper, penetrating me farther than I thought possible. My pussy throbbed, everything inside me molten and hot.
“Say it again.” His growl cut straight to the heart of me.
“Yours.”
He pressed his lips to me, his tongue circling my clit.
I arched off the bed, sweat breaking out all over my skin. His finger and tongue worked in concert, each playing me until I was wound tight, a wire around a nail.
“This?” He teased my clit again, his tone still curious, as if it was all new to him.
But that couldn’t be right.
“Angel?” He looked up at me with dark eyes.
“Yes, more,” I breathed.
Without another word he lashed me with his tongue, each stroke pushing me to the edge. When he added a second finger, my hips seized, my thighs shaking. I came in a torrent, each wave drowning me with pleasure. His mouth was like an atomic bomb turning me radioactive, and I could do nothing except surrender to it. I moaned my release until my lower back finally hit the bed again, my body going lax as he pressed the flat of his tongue against me.
Withdrawing his fingers, he climbed on top of me and pressed his mouth to mine. My own taste invaded my senses. When his cock made contact with my over-sensitive flesh, I gripped his shoulders.
“I-I’ve never done this before.” I peered up at him, embarrassment adding to the heat in my cheeks.
“Never?” he grated.
“No.”
He pressed his palm to my cheek and kissed me more gently. “Me neither.”
“What?” I lay my head against the bed, pulling back so I could look him in the eye.
“I went to prison when I was still a kid.” He shrugged, the movement almost sheepish. “And the one I wanted to do this with got away.” He grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head. “Until now.”
His cock head slid against me, massaging me back to a state of arousal that was so raw I didn’t know if I could take it. But it didn’t matter. He’d warned me to leave, told me he wouldn’t be able to stop. And there was no turning back now.
“I’m just doing what feels right, Angel. And with you, everything feels right.”
I moved my hips against him. “I want you.”
“I don’t have a rubber. Wouldn’t use one on you anyway. This is mine.” He pressed against my entrance. “Always was, always will be.” He kissed me again, his mouth a wrecking ball and his body a sheet of steel pressing me down into the bed.
When he pushed into me, a searing pain erupted and froze me.
“Shh.” He kissed me gently, feathering his lips over my cheeks and forehead. Bit by bit, I relaxed.
“Okay,” I breathed.
He pushed farther. “Fucking hell.” His muscles shook.
I gasped and tried to dig my heels in and push myself away from him.
“No, Angel.” He didn’t release his grip on my wrists. “I told you.”
“It hurts.” My lip trembled.
“I’m going to make it feel good.” He moved one hand between us and rubbed my clit. “I promise.”
The pain subsided again, his thumb pressing in perfect circles and melting what little resistance I’d had.
“You can take me. I was made to fit you.” He pulled back slightly, then pushed deeper.
I moaned at the pain and pleasure that mixed like a top shelf cocktail in my veins.
“See?” He leaned back and stared down at where we were joined, though I noticed the hint of surprise in his eyes. “You can take all of me.” He pushed a little more, the veins on his neck showing in sharp relief as the muscles along his chest seemed to tremble with tension.
I nodded and moved my hips tentatively. His cock slid out a little, then returned all the way inside me. So full, the strange sensations washed over me. But his thumb pulled my attention back to him, to our bodies, to our connection.
Leaning over me again, he pulled out and returned, his body the ocean crashing on my shores. I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“I can’t hold back.” He pressed his lips to my ear. “I need all of you.”
“Then take me.” I spread my legs wider, his hard thighs keeping me open.
He groaned and pulled out, then slid inside again. “So tight. I just hope I can last.” True to his word, he didn’t hold back. With another thrust, he ground his hips against me, his cock stretching me to the point of pain.
“More.” I kissed his jaw.
“Fuck.” He slammed me harder, then started a vicious rhythm. His body pistoned into mine, each stroke binding us together. “You are too much. Making me want to pop like a teenager in the first thirty seconds.”
Satisfaction stole through me, tiptoeing around the raging inferno of desire.
His thumb never stopped, the strokes on my clit pushing me higher and higher as his thrusts became more erratic. Burying his face in my neck, he licked and sucked the tender skin, each bit of contact between us adding to the building explosion between my thighs. Our skin slapped together with each impact, the sound erotic and delicious. I held onto him as I reached the cliff again. He pushed me over, my body clenching him tighter as I opened my mouth on a silent cry. Each shudder, each bolt of illicit pleasure seemed to drive him wilder, his thrusts violent.
“I can’t stop.” He gripped my shoulder, holding me down as he fucked me senseless, my orgasm subsiding to aftershocks. With a groan, he pulled out, his thick cock in his large hand, and spurts of come lashed out along my pussy and stomach. It was filthy and erotic beyond anything I’d ever witnessed.
He sat back a little, his breathing heavy, his eyes locked on mine.
“Only five years in the making.” I pressed my palm to my forehead and tried to put my shattered mind back together.
“Worth the wait.” He leaned over me and pressed a kiss so soft and sweet to my lips that if I hadn’t already fallen for him, that would’ve been the final shove.
19
David
“Rudy was a rough son-of-a-bitch, but he taught me a lot. And when I wasn’t with him, I was in the library. Got my GED, studied all sorts of random shit.” I’d never felt more relaxed in my life. The tiger that raged inside me after I’d done the bloodwork in the basement was appeased, my need
for release sated in the beautiful creature lying on my chest.
“So Rudy taught you …”
“Torture.” I tugged on her hair so she had to meet my eyes. “I’ll never lie to you, Angel. I’m a killer. I do horrible things. And worse, I enjoy doing them. Maybe there was a chance for me to be someone different, but once I went to prison, there was only one road for me. This is it.”
She seemed to consider my words for a moment, then gave me a small nod. “I know.”
When she dropped a kiss on my chest, I wasn’t sure if I was in a dream or I was really lying here with a stolen bride under the Genoa roof.
“That doesn’t bother you?” I stroked her soft hair.
“No. I’ve spent the past five years around men more heartless and cruel than you could ever be. They’re evil. Sick. That’s what the mafia life does—it twists everyone into monsters.” She shrugged. “At least you’re honest about it.” She met my gaze again. “And you know who you are. I wish I had that.”
“You don’t know who you are?”
She closed her eyes. “I can see who I used to be. Fearless. And maybe a little stupid for it. Some houses I shouldn’t have busted into, you know? But I did it anyway because I thought it was a way out for me. I was a dreamer, too. All those maps I used to pore over. Places I wanted to go. I thought I could be whoever I wanted.”
“You still can.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Since I’ve been a prisoner in Hector’s house, I’ve learned that I’m not strong at all. I thought I wouldn’t break. But Hector knew better. I thought I’d escape. Hector knew better about that, too.”
“He took you when you were still a kid.” I rubbed her back. “There was no way you could’ve beaten him at this game, Angel.”
“I know, but … I’m just lost.” She met my eyes. “I’m no one now. Just a doll that he plays with and is going to sell off.”
“That’s not who you are.” I wanted to rip Blanco to shreds for making her feel this way. “You’re still just as strong and just as much of a dreamer as you were back then. Maybe he’s darkened a few of your edges, toughened you up, showed you that you have to fight for what you want—but it’s all still here inside you.”
“I wish that were true.”
“I know it is.” I ran my fingers down her cheek. She was so soft against my hard skin. “If you don’t believe it, it doesn’t matter. I believe in you enough for the both of us. You’re going to be free of all this. Not because I’m here, but because you are the same strong survivor that caught my eye forever ago.”
She cleared her throat. “How can you be sure?”
“I’ve never been surer about anything in my life.”
“Thank you,” she whispered and snuggled against my shoulder.
I should have terrified her. She should have been running. Instead, she rested close to me, her thigh resting on mine, her soft breasts pressed to my side.
But I knew this little cocoon wouldn’t last. I’d fucked my girl, who just happened to be promised to another man. On top of that, I’d taken her virginity, which had probably been a bargaining chip. And I had no delusions that Serge Genoa didn’t know everything that went on in this room. This was a giant clusterfuck. I pulled her closer and ran my hand up and down the smooth skin of her back. A giant clusterfuck that I didn’t regret for a second.
“What’s going to happen?” Her thoughts must have been following my own.
“I don’t know.” I pulled her on top of me. “But I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
She traced my lips with her finger. That soft touch and the warmth of her body reignited the fire inside me. I wanted her again, even though I knew she had to be sore.
“I wish we could just run away, see the world, go to all the places I used to dream about.”
If only it were that easy. “I wish that, too.”
“But it won’t happen, will it?” She dropped her gaze, her dark lashes hiding her eyes from me.
“I’m bound to the Genoas.”
She rested her forehead on my chest. “I belong to Hector.”
I gripped her hair and pulled her face back to mine. “You belong to me.”
Her eyes watered. “This won’t change anything. I’m still engaged to Lorenzo. Hector won’t blow this deal, not now.”
She was speaking the truth. Serge and Hector had too much invested in the alliance this wedding would create. The show would go on. I didn’t know what Serge would do to me for endangering it, but I couldn’t imagine it would be pretty.
“We’re screwed, aren’t we?” She shook her head. “Again. It’s like there’s something out there that doesn’t want us to be together. Fate. Bad luck. Whatever you want to call it.”
I tended to agree with her, but that didn’t mean I would give up. I’d never give up on the two of us. “I’ll think of something. You just need to keep playing along. But I promise you, you won’t be marrying that piece of shit Lorenzo.”
“You can’t promise that.” She cupped my face. “I don’t want you to die doing anything stupid like trying to save me from him.”
Was she broken or just realistic? I couldn’t tell. But I wanted to hold her until she believed that we could change our fate, that whatever wanted to keep us apart could be defeated.
“I’m going to show you, Angel.” I turned my head and kissed her palm. “You’ll see. I need you to—”
A knock at the door cut through the bubble we’d been living in for the past few hours. I pushed her behind me and sat up.
“It’s me.” Peter’s voice.
“Come in.” I yanked the blanket up to Angel’s chin.
Peter walked in and quickly closed the door behind him. One glance at the bed and his face grew even more grave, his eyes sober. “Well, fuck.” He dropped a neat stack of my clothes on the mattress next to me.
“Nice to see you again, Angel.” He gave her a little salute.
“Hi Peter.”
I plucked up my undershirt. It was whiter than the day I bought it. That Opal had managed to clean out the blood. I supposed she had plenty of practice.
He paced in front of the bathroom.
“Just spit it out.” I pulled on my pants, then strode past him to recover Angel’s clothes.
“Turn around,” I told Peter as I walked over to her, clothes in hand.
He faced the wall as Angel sat up and I dropped the “Genoa’s Pizza and Pasta” t-shirt over her head.
“Thanks.” She took her panties and too-big pajama pants and pulled them on.
“Done.” I settled beside her and pulled her under my arm.
Peter turned and winced at the sight of us. “This is bad.”
“What did Serge say?” I would take whatever punishment he wanted to deal out.
“He’s laughing at Blanco right now.”
“Laughing?” Angel gripped my thigh.
“Yeah, I mean.” Peter shrugged. “Blanco’s been bragging for years about his virginal little girl, and now she’s been deflowered right under his nose. Serge is smoking a cigar right this second and laughing it up that his favorite torturer bagged Blanco’s precious girl.”
“Sitting right here.” Angel pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.
“No offense meant.” Peter held his hands up. “But Vince is a bit more worried. He’s sworn everyone in the house to silence on this little … development. No one here will tell Blanco or Lorenzo. Vince held him off as long as he could, but Blanco is on his way over to collect you.”
“What about David?” The fear in her voice had me pulling her closer. “Are they going to—”
“He’s safe. Serge has a soft spot for him. Vince, though—” He sighed. “He’s not pleased. And he doesn’t want you serving as her bodyguard.”
“I’m not leaving her alone in that fucked up house.” I rose. “She’s not safe there.”
“It’s not up to you.” Peter walked to the edge of the bed. “Do you have any idea ho
w dangerous this is? You’re fucking with a strategic alliance, one that’s supremely important to the Genoas. Maybe Serge is amused by you right this second, but that can change in a heartbeat.” He lowered his voice. “And he won’t be the boss forever. You need to play the long game, man. Think ten steps ahead.”
“That’s your job.”
“It is. And I’m trying to do it right, but this—” He waved his hand at the bed. “Is a colossal fuckup that is screwing with everything I’ve been trying to build for us.”
“I’ll go back.” Angel stood and took my hand. “I won’t say a word about any of this. No one will know. It didn’t happen.”
“Can you do that? Make it convincing?” Peter asked.
She nodded. “After the wedding salon, I came here and Opal put me to bed to rest. I stayed there until Blanco came for me. That’s all.”
“Good.” Peter’s shoulders relaxed just a bit. “That’s the right plan. You go back, let this whole wedding thing play out. It’ll keep David out of Blanco’s crosshairs while we try to keep you safe from the Irish.”
I squeezed her hand. “I’m not letting her leave here without me.”
Peter’s tension returned, double this time. “David, you have to be smart!”
“You said Vince didn’t want me to go back there, but Serge was okay with it?”
Peter tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. “That’s what I said.”
“So, I’m going.”
“You shouldn’t.” Peter peered at me, the light from the bathroom casting half his face in shadow. “You need to stay here. Going back to Blanco’s house after … after—” He threw up his hands. “It can’t happen again. If Blanco finds out, you’re a dead man.”
Angel shook her head. “He won’t find—”
A curt knock at the door was followed by Opal’s voice. “Mr. Blanco is downstairs.”
“Come on.” Peter stewed but hurried toward the sound. “Get back to your room before he gets here.” He opened the door.
“It’ll be okay.” Angel looked up at me, my whole world in her eyes.
I kissed her, putting everything I had into that one reminder of our bond.