by Sylvia Day
Her gaze snapped up to him. Was he insane? Come this far and not feel him deep inside her, not fulfill one of her darkest wishes? No way would she not have every chance to give him back even a tenth of the pleasure he’d given her.
“There’s only one thing I want.” She spread her legs in invitation. “One person I want. Now, Jon.”
He didn’t hesitate again, just stood, donned the condom over that sizeable cock, and slipped between her legs. “Keep with me. Tell me how you’re feeling. Fuck, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’ll just be a moment, right?” She opened her arms, curling them around his neck.
“I swear, I’ll make the pain worth the pleasure.”
“I know.”
Jon stared, those dark eyes delving into her as he took her hips in his hands. She curled her legs around him as he probed against her slick opening. Unbelievably, just being near him started the rising tide of desire again. That little ache clawed its way behind her clit once more. Her heart picked up the pace again, as if the last marathon of pleasure had only been a warm-up.
Then he sank into her slowly, inching through tissues that had never known intrusion. The barrier of her virginity stopped him, and he sighed.
“Look at me. Nowhere else.” He took one of her hands in his, lacing their fingers together.
At Lucia’s nod, Jon eased back, holding her hip in a hard grip. That and his shuddering breath were her only warnings before he thrust hard, ripping through the barrier and shoving deep inside her. A tearing pain assailed her. She cried out, body tensing. The echoes of that pain arrowed down her limbs and tore through her body. And still he kept shoving in until he was fully immersed inside her. Then Jon sat perfectly still, focusing completely on her with his watchful gaze.
He did nothing. A second passed, another, one more…With each moment, the pain diminished, replaced by an achy tenderness between her legs. She’d be sore later, but now that he was inside her, the wonder of it overtook her. She could feel his heartbeat both against her chest and deep inside her sex. He brushed her hair off her forehead, caressing her reverently. The last of the pain-induced tension drained away.
“You okay?” His voice sounded as if he’d dragged it through gravel behind a speeding car. The effort to hold back was clearly costing him. That he’d take such effort for her was so damn endearing. As if she needed more reasons to be in love with him.
“Great. Really.” Except an ache moved in between her legs and settled in. And it wasn’t pain, but need. She frowned, wriggled, arched up to him.
Jon hissed in a breath, eyes squeezing shut. “I’m trying to stay still for you, Doc. Let your body get used to me. Just a bit longer.”
A bit longer, and she’d go insane. “Now, Jon!” She planted her feet on the bed and lifted herself up to him. “I’ve waited twenty-five years for this. I’ve told you I’m not breakable. You’ve been so patient. Don’t you want more? Take it.”
He smiled and brushed a soft kiss across her mouth. “Yes, ma’am. You’re awfully bossy, and I’m letting you be right now. Don’t get used to it.”
Did that mean he expected to take her to bed again? Lucia was giddy with the thought. This might not be forever, but he wasn’t in a hurry to leave her yet. And she’d take that—at least for now. If she had her way, however, he’d make love to her, realize that he truly cared about her, and never want to let her go.
Fat chance, but it was a lovely fantasy, and she was going to milk it for all it was worth.
JON HOOVERED IN a deep breath and tried to clear his head. It was either that or turn into a raving wild man above the soft curves of Lucia’s lush body and plow into her tight pussy over and over. He couldn’t do that. She deserved tenderness her first time. God knew he wasn’t usually the gentlest of lovers, but he was determined to make this everything she’d waited for.
Maybe then she wouldn’t run off when this was over. Maybe they’d have time to explore what might be between them.
Grasping her thighs, he lifted them to his waist, and she curled her legs around him. Experimentally, he withdrew. Her body tugged at him, clung, gripping so tight. Fuck, his eyes were rolling into the back of his head. And when he eased back in, she welcomed him deep, slick flesh easing the way, then clenched him even harder. Shit, he wasn’t sure how long he could last through this unrelenting sensual torture. But he was determined to give it his all to make her come at least once.
He rolled over, still deep inside her, until she sat astride, thighs hugging his hips. Oh, hell. Wasn’t that a gorgeous view? Lucia was all woman, with her soft, flushed face, her heavy breasts with their tight rosy-brown nipples, the small waist, a little curve to her belly, and those hips that fascinated him so much. Her instinct kicked in, and she rooted around on his cock, raising and lowering herself, hands braced on his chest, giving him one hell of a cleavage show. But he was transfixed by her face, those flushed cheeks, the gasping wonder of her wide eyes. She showed every expression—even the occasional twinge of pain—as he planted himself even deeper inside her pussy, but discomfort quickly changed to overwhelming pleasure as she rose up and eased down again.
Beneath her, he tensed and widened his stance—then fucked her slowly from beneath, the aim and cadence of his stroke designed to hit that sensitive spot inside her over and over. Jon established a slow, deep stroke, a steady cadence deep inside her. Within seconds, she dug her nails into his shoulders and moved with him, helping him undo the last of her composure.
“You look so sexy, Doc. Being inside you is better than any fantasy I could imagine. That’s it…Move with me.” He grabbed her hips and picked up the pace. “Fuck. I feel you tightening, pet.”
“Jon!”
“I’m here. Take it. Feel it. Let it go.”
“I don’t—” She looked at him with wide-eyed amazement. “This is different. Oh God…Oh!” She panted, then closed her eyes.
Her obvious arousal climbing was one hell of a turn-on for him, and he kept giving her one deep plunge of his cock after another. Her pussy fluttered, then clamped down.
“Come for me, Lucia!”
She screamed, and he increased his pace from beneath her, pounding relentlessly against her most sensitive spot. Fuck, he could feel her swelling, her nails in his skin. But it was the desperate pleasure in her helpless stare that really turned him inside out. God, she was everything he’d imagined and more. Innocent, but not totally shy. Educated, but untried. And uninhibited.
Fuck, he had to get deeper.
Rolling Lucia to her back, he planted his knees on the mattress and gripped the insides of her thighs, pulling them even wider apart. Rising up over her, he tilted her hips up and prodded that one spot inside her unmercifully. It would still be sensitive from her last orgasm. But Jon wasn’t taking any chances. He covered her abdomen with one hand and prodded her clit with his thumb, fucking into her in short, deep strokes.
She gasped and shook her head back and forth, bucking wildly underneath him. “Yes! Oh my God, yes. Don’t stop. Please,” she begged. “I’m going to…”
Yeah, she was. She did—with a long growl of a moan, scratching at the sheets, and throwing her hips up at him. Around his cock, he felt a warm gush of fluid coat him, easing his way even deeper in her pussy.
Watching Lucia thrash underneath him and then cry out his name was the most erotic experience of his life. No spanking benches or blindfolds necessary, just a beautiful woman who had a foothold on his heart opening herself up to him with utter trust and passion.
Just like that, the last bit of his heart he’d kept unencumbered suddenly belonged to her. He was one hundred percent in love with Lucia DiStefano, and having her under him, coming for him…it was too much.
The pleasure rushed through his bloodstream, pumping into his system, as he shoved his cock into her again and again—then exploded, disintegrating, fucking melting at the pleasure bending his body and his brain, remaking him altogether as he emptied inside her with a shout an
d a shudder.
Though he’d used her hard, Lucia took everything he gave. Even more, she wrapped her arms around him as he collapsed against her, welcoming him as he breathed hard against her fragrant skin. She spread little kisses across his neck and shoulders.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “That was perfect.”
“No, you are.”
Her sleepy smile went straight to his heart. Then she closed her eyes, cuddled up against him, and drifted off. Jon held her closer. Yeah, he was a goner. No way could he let this woman get away again. Once they solved this mystery of her father’s, he was going to lay his cards on the table and pray that she felt the same.
chapter five
Lucia stepped out of the hotel lobby late the next morning, again in her little black dress. Jon hovered beside her, the cipher and key her father had left her in his pocket, watchful and ready for anything. He was nothing like the tender lover he’d been last night. And a few hours later. And again this morning as she’d crawled from the shower. Every step she took reminded her of how sore she was and how demanding he’d been. But she wouldn’t trade a moment of their time together for the world.
As they walked down the street toward Celeste’s just before eleven, the happy cocoon she’d been in dissolved. Nerves dive-bombed her stomach and gnawed at her composure. Her father had been trying to tell her something from beyond the grave, and she didn’t want to fail him. Jon had also made it very clear this could quickly turn dangerous. He’d made her promise to follow his instructions explicitly and immediately if it did.
As they reached the old brick building with the little white sign that proclaimed, CELESTE’S: A FAMILY-OWNED BUSINESS SINCE 1967, a woman with salt-and-pepper hair, dancing dark eyes, and a pleasantly round face opened the door and let them in.
Her gaze lit on Jon with a smile. “I remember you. You no come to see me for a long while, eh? So handsome.” She patted his face.
Lucia swore she could see Jon blush. “Thank you, Celeste.”
“My daughter, she is still single…” The woman flashed another grin, then her eyes lit on Lucia. “Ah, but I see I am too late. Lucky girl. And che bella donna!” She winked.
How sweet of Celeste to call her beautiful. With a conspiratorial glance at Jon, Lucia held her hand out to the woman. “I’m Lucia DiStefano. I think you knew my father?”
“Ah. Of course.” Celeste embraced her in a tight hug as if welcoming long-lost family, then stepped back, misty-eyed, and crossed herself. “God rest your father. Always he was kind to me and my family. He spoke of you with such pride.”
That warmed Lucia. Nicholas DiStefano hadn’t been a demonstrative man. He’d never really told her that he was proud. But she had no doubt that Celeste had spoken the truth, and it comforted Lucia to know that her father had noticed her accomplishments.
“Thank you. I miss him.” She swallowed down lingering grief. Jon grabbed her hand, thumb caressing the back for reinforcement. She worked up the courage to ask Celeste, “Did he leave anything here for me, perhaps? A piece of paper of any kind?”
Celeste reared back, then hit her forehead with her open palm. “Mamma Mia! But of course. Follow me…”
Excitement chugging, Lucia followed Celeste as she led them through the modest dining room with its checkered tablecloths and pristine white napkins, into the kitchen. The smell of roasting garlic, basil, and oregano simmering with rich, ripe tomatoes blended with the heavenly yeasty scent of freshly baked bread. Her stomach rumbled, and Lucia thought wryly of the room service food that had gotten cold while Jon had pinned her to the bed and taught her a host of new ways that he could make her whole body glow.
As Celeste led them into a little office in the back, she sat behind a battered desk and riffled through a filing drawer. “God bless your father. He eat here nearly every week for thirty years. He was like family.”
Lucia frowned. Yet he’d never brought her here. She’d never even heard of Celeste’s. Though her father’s nature had been secretive, she had to believe that hadn’t meant that he’d loved her any less.
Celeste continued to search her drawer. “Always he brings his associates. They drink and laugh. And tip well.” She laughed, and then her smile fell. “Your father, he help my son scare away the street thugs who try to make us to give money for protection. He thank me for a good meal every time. And he come to my husband’s funeral five years ago. Afterward, he hug me so tight and tell me, ‘If you or your children need anything, call me.’”
Really? Her father had always been an enigma, kept a distance she really hadn’t comprehended between her and himself. As an adult, she guessed it was because he wanted as much room between her and his mob associates—his way of protecting her. On the one hand, she was envious that this woman and her family had known him well enough to call him a friend. On the other hand, envy aside, it warmed her heart to know he truly had the kind heart she’d always suspected. No, she knew he hadn’t been an angel, but he’d been her father. She’d loved him, as Celeste clearly had.
“Ah, I find it for you. Here.” The older woman held the envelope out to her.
Lucia took it slowly, fingers wrapping around the slightly yellowed edges with a pounding heart. “Thank you. Do you remember when my father gave this to you?”
“Not long before his death. I hear him tell another that he does not trust everyone around him…”
That instinct had been right. Lucia wished that he could have prevented his murder. Damn it, she wished he’d told her of his suspicions, though she knew logically that she could have done nothing to save him.
“I appreciate you keeping this for him and giving it to me.”
Celeste nodded and ambled to the door of her office. “I leave you here to read your letter, eh? I stir my sauce and serve you a plate. You look hungry.”
Jon nodded, looking grateful. “I always love your lasagna.”
“I make it for you.” Celeste smiled. “Lucia?”
She was hungry…and yet now that she held words that her father had written just for her shortly before his death, she wasn’t sure she could eat a bite. But she didn’t want to offend her father’s friend. “Lasagna is great. Thank you.”
The moment Celeste closed the door behind them, Jon fused his gaze to hers. “Talk to me. Your voice is shaking. Afraid? Nervous?”
God, the man was so attuned to her moods. “Nervous. This moment has gravity. It’s like I’m going to read what he says, then I’ll have to say good-bye all over again.”
With seemingly little effort, Jon grabbed her around the waist and lifted her into his lap as he sat in Celeste’s office chair. It creaked under their joint weight, but held as he brought her close to his chest.
“I know, Doc. This is hard, and none of it is fair. But he wanted you to do this for a reason.”
Lucia nodded. “And I need to honor his wish, even if I don’t understand it.”
With trembling fingers, she opened the envelope and withdrew a piece of heavy stationary in a crisp white. She recognized the slanted handwriting inked in black as her father’s immediately. A wave of longing rushed up to her. She wished she’d understood him better, that they’d been closer. She’d always imagined they’d have more time together.
But she didn’t, and now she had to choke back her regret and move forward—for him.
My dearest Lucia,
A thousand words cannot express my regret for leaving you so soon. I leave you this task, my clever little bambina, because you alone will understand my message and do right with it. Think of all I taught you. I am counting on you and am so proud.
Love,
Papa
Tears filled her eyes. Lucia blinked to clear her vision, but they kept coming back. Jon was with her instantly, drying them away.
“Don’t cry, Doc. He loved you.”
“I miss him.”
“Of course you do. You always will. He helped give you life and represented security for you. He protected you and l
oved you in his way.”
She released a shuddering breath. Jon was right. “This is one hell of a cryptovariable for this cipher. But I need to do this last thing for him.”
Jon hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll be with you, watching out for you.”
Protecting her in case danger reared its head. She knew that was what he meant. Still, she couldn’t help loving him for it.
“How does it work?” he asked. “What was his system?”
“He kept this one simple.” Lucia clutched the note and pointed to the first few items on the cipher. “See these three numbers grouped together?”
“Twenty-four, one hundred twenty-one, seventy-two.” He frowned. “Those aren’t numbers that correspond to letters of the alphabet.”
“No.” She laid the two papers out side by side and started counting. Within a few moments, she knew for certain that she understood. “It isn’t twenty-four exactly. He’s really saying second word, fourth letter. He never counted salutations or closings, just the body of the letter. So the second word, fourth letter is—”