Final Reckoning (The Adamos Book 11)

Home > Romance > Final Reckoning (The Adamos Book 11) > Page 4
Final Reckoning (The Adamos Book 11) Page 4

by Mia Madison


  “Oh. Okay.” Embarrassed that I’ve already given away my inexperience, I follow his instructions.

  And holy crap. Because as soon as his briefs are out of the way, he springs free. I freeze, staring at the cock that’s rising before me, swelling, pulsing with every beat of his heart. The cold doesn’t seem to affect him – or it – at all.

  The first thing I think is, He’s beautiful. And the next is, I can’t have sex with him. That will never fit.

  Not content to stop there, my brain goes on issuing random musings about Matteo’s cock. He can’t go around hard all the time. I may not be experienced, but I know that much. Is this … because of me?

  It makes me lightheaded. Could he really respond to me that way?

  No. He’s one of those men with a powerful sex drive, and any woman would have this effect on him if she was touching him, undressing him. It’s silly to think I’m anyone special.

  He hasn’t said a word. He’s just standing there, watching me watch his cock. When I’m supposed to be helping him. Jeez, Quinn.

  Heat rushes to my face. I work his pants and briefs down his legs, but his boots are in the way. I help him with those, then get his clothing all the way off.

  Now he’s totally naked and I’m kneeling at his feet. I fold up his pants and tuck his socks into his boots, as if they didn’t need to be either laundered or thrown away. It buys me a few seconds.

  Finally, I stand up and go for the baby wipes again, not meeting his eyes. But when I turn around with a wipe in my hand, he doesn’t let me go on cleaning away the blood.

  He takes the wipe away. Then he guides my hand to his cock and gently wraps it around his girth.

  “Ohh, fuck,” I whisper. His cock is so warm and hard, the skin over it so soft and silky. I can’t contain him, not entirely, but I’m too fascinated to freak out.

  My hand glides up and down his length. He wraps his hand around mine again and tightens my grip a little. White liquid gathers in his slit; at the sight, saliva pools in my mouth.

  This is by far the hottest thing I’ve ever done. My panties are soaked. Impulse takes over and I sink to my knees again, intent on tasting him.

  I’m afraid he’ll stop me, but he doesn’t. Exploring, I start to kiss and lick him. I lap up the liquid and he growls, but I somehow understand it’s a sound of approval, one I feel down deep in my pussy. The only thing he says, as I start to take him in my mouth, is “No teeth.”

  Only later will it register on me how soft his voice is. How gently he nudges my free hand off of his thigh to cup his balls. I’m lost in discovery, in the heady pleasure of worshiping his cock.

  I suck him like it’s my last day on earth, eyes closed, my head bobbing awkwardly, with no idea what I’m doing but it doesn’t matter, this is heavenly.

  Then he tries to stop me, and instinct takes over again. Instead of releasing him, I suck harder. He tries to pull free and I let him feel my teeth, just a little.

  8

  I’ll Keep You Warm

  “Quinn,” he snarls. I ignore him. “Quinn.” Then, “Oh, fuck, Quinn.” And he grabs my head and pours himself down my throat.

  I swallow him down, every last drop. If someone had told me, before I met Matteo, that I would not only be willing to do that for a man, but would love doing it, I would have laughed. When I’m finished, because I’m sorry that it’s over and I’m not tired of having his cock in my mouth, I lick him clean.

  Only then do I remember that he’s standing here stark naked in temperatures that are barely above freezing. Greedy girl that I am, I’m not sorry. And anyway, he started it.

  Standing, I lean into the back of the SUV to hunt for clean clothes. Behind me, he says, “We’ll need to sleep in the back. It’s too cold outside.”

  Wait. What? I turn around with my hands full of clothes. “How long are we going to be staying here?”

  “Until I can get a sense of Santiago’s movements. I just went to the top of his hit list, so you’re not safe with me. We’ve got to be cautious.”

  My heart squeezes so hard in my chest that my vision starts to gray. The next thing I know, Matteo’s patting my cheek. “Quinn. Hey.”

  I blink as the gray recedes. “You got put on his hit list for me,” I whisper. It’s agony to think of him getting hurt at all, let alone on my behalf.

  “It was only a matter of time before I ended up there. Another couple weeks, he would have had it in for me anyway.”

  I’m no longer holding the clothes; he must have taken them from me while I was trying not to faint. He starts to put on his briefs, but it’s quickly apparent that he can’t bend over without it causing a lot of pain around his ribs.

  I take the briefs and kneel down, holding them so he can step into them. This puts me at eye level with his cock again. I stare at it, a little dreamily, and it twitches.

  Smiling, I stare some more. Matteo growls, “Do not tempt me.”

  Tempting him sounds like an excellent idea. I give him a look that says so and he shakes his head. “Swear to fuck, I’m gonna spank the hell out of you.”

  “What?” I say with only partially feigned indignation. “Why?”

  Matteo sends me a look that makes my pussy tingle. “You want a list?”

  “Hmph.” I shake the briefs at him. He steps into them, and I tug them up until he can reach them. We do the same thing with his jeans, but when I reach for a long-sleeved t-shirt he stops me.

  “Not sure how easily I could get it back off, and I’d just as soon not have to cut up all my clothes. This’ll do.”

  We get the back set up next. It’s starting to snow again, so putting most of it on the picnic table is not a great idea. But the SUV is one of those jumbo-sized ones, so we can fit things on the floorboards under the folded-down back seat and also line the edges.

  There’s only one sleeping bag. But Matteo brought blankets and a thick foam pad, so we can make up a sort of bed, using the unzipped bag like a comforter on top.

  By the time we’re done, I’m starving. There’s a barbecue adjacent to the picnic table and I cast it a doubtful look. “Do you want me to try to cook something? I didn’t see any charcoal in your gear.”

  “Nope. And we better not risk building a fire. There’s no dry wood, and smoke could draw attention. We’ll have to make do with protein bars.”

  Not my favorite thing – or his either, probably – but I’m hardly in a position to be anything but grateful. “Are you sure you don’t want a shirt? It’s awfully cold out here.”

  In answer, he climbs inside the back of the SUV and lies down. “I need to rest anyway. Give myself a chance to heal.”

  “Oh. Right.” I fidget, not sure what to do. Now that his big, masculine body is in there, the remaining space looks much smaller.

  I’m confused by my own feelings. A little while ago, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on him, not to mention my mouth. Why am I all nervous and jittery now?

  Maybe because that behavior was completely out of character for me. Not that I blame myself: being kidnapped, being rescued, Matteo getting hurt, being chased by Santiago’s guys … all that danger, and the rush of still being alive, made me giddy, reckless.

  But now the adrenaline has had a chance to wear off, and regular me is a little bit horrified. Not sorry, but not exactly eager to carry on in the same vein. I’m back to being cautious and circumspect and worried about getting hurt.

  “Quinn.”

  I flinch. “What?”

  “Get in and shut the door behind you.”

  I have no good reason to refuse, so I do as he says, but sit cross-legged on the mat. Lying down beside him feels too intimate.

  We each eat a protein bar, washing them down with bottled water. When we’re done, the silence between us quickly turns uncomfortable, or so it feels to me. “Do you have any games?” I ask. “Or playing cards?”

  Matteo looks suspiciously like he’s trying not to laugh. “Didn’t think to pack any, sorry. Wasn’t expectin
g to have company.”

  Damn. He’s lying there, with silver threaded through his dark hair and crinkles at the corners of his eyes, looking exactly like the sexy, experienced older man he is. And here I sit feeling like a kid.

  I look away and hitch up one shoulder. “Just a thought.”

  “I had a different thought.”

  Did his voice just get deeper? Richer. Warmer. Even more panty-melting. I have to clear my throat before I can answer. “What?”

  “I was thinking you could sit on my face.”

  My eyes get round. I gape at him, speechless, my brain completely shorted out. This goes on for too long, evidently, because Matteo gets tired of waiting and takes over.

  “C’mere.” Grabbing hold of the front of my shirt, he tugs me down next to him, then rolls toward me, onto his uninjured side. The next moment, his mouth fuses itself to mine.

  This kiss is nothing like the one at Kosta’s house. It’s slow and deep and thorough, and in no time it leaves me drenched. As if he knows it, Matteo unzips my jeans, then slips his hand inside my panties and cups me.

  When his fingers part my slick folds, the same animal sound comes from both our throats. He deepens the kiss, one finger stroking in and out of me, his thumb circling my clit. My hips match his rhythm, rising to meet his hand, inviting him in, asking for more.

  Pleasure, deep and dark, as soft as a feather and as sharp as a knife’s edge, builds inside me, coiling and twisting and tightening until my body’s as taut as a bowstring ready to release. I moan into his mouth and he nips my lower lip, then sucks at the tiny hurt.

  I’m so close, my body desperate for release in a way it’s never been. His thumb presses, rolls, and presses again, and a million shooting stars burst from my clit, my body convulsing, my toes curling, my hips bucking as I clamp around his finger.

  Matteo lifts his thumb, then flicks it over my clit, triggering another climax. When it finally subsides, he does it again. And again.

  Through all this he’s still kissing me, hungry, insistent. When he finally lifts his head, I’m drunk on him, my lips bruised and swollen, my blood thick as honey. His pupils are huge.

  “Are you on the pill?”

  My pulse, already rapid, goes into overdrive. Holy shit, we’re really doing this. “Yeah,” I manage to say, and I don’t even recognize my own voice. “But I don’t have them with me.”

  “I can pull out, but it’s risky.” A slow smile curves his mouth. “Or you could just sit on my face.”

  Matteo smiling is a revelation. My heart leaps in my chest, twisting into an unfamiliar shape. “Shut up,” I say, and we both know, from the soft, husky way it comes out, that it’s not what I mean at all.

  “Get your clothes off.” It’s a sensual command that vibrates through me, all the way down to my cells. “I’ll keep you warm.”

  He scoots aside while I obey, not even pretending not to watch me, his eyes devouring me the same way his mouth did. By the time I’m naked, the flesh between my legs is throbbing.

  As soon as I lie back down, he moves over me, balancing on his good arm. Taking himself in hand, he rubs the tip of his cock over my clit and down between my folds, coating himself in my wetness, then back to my swollen nub.

  Sensation sparks from my clit to my nipples and back again, flooding my pussy. My eyes roll back in my head. “Matteo,” I moan, and he seats himself at my opening and begins to claim me.

  9

  Every Oath I’ve Ever Sworn

  Her eyes go wide as soon as I start to push inside her. Fuck, she’s tight, her silky wet heat urging me on, squeezing my cock so hard it’s almost too much. But I can’t stop. I need to be inside her more than I need to take my next breath.

  I draw back and press in, stretching her, filling her, branding every inch of her sweet cunt with my cock. Only when she’s stuffed with me, ready to burst, do I stop, buried inside her, and take her mouth again.

  She tastes like spiced sugar, intoxicating and irresistible. I could kiss her forever, and I do, tangling my tongue with hers until she starts to move against me, until her legs twine with mine.

  My ribs are protesting. I don’t give a fuck. Probably any position would be easier than being on top, but fuck that too. I’m about as civilized as a caveman right now.

  Nuzzling her ear, holding myself still inside her, I give her the truth. “I’ve needed this since the night you handed me that ice cream.”

  “Teo,” she whispers.

  Hearing her use my childhood nickname tears a scab off my soul, exposing a wound I thought had long since healed. It hurts like hell, but beneath the pain is something better. Something that’s all Quinn.

  As if she senses it, she frames my face with her hands, gazing into my eyes. “Baby,” she whispers. Soft and tender and generous: everything she is, and also all the reasons I’m an asshole for making her mine.

  She deserves someone better. Too bad. I’m not giving her up, not now.

  Pulling back a little, I fill her again. I’m determined to take it slow, not hammer her like I want to. Quinn might as well have been wearing a neon sign that said “Never been fucked.”

  Virgins have never been my thing, but for her I’ll break all my usual rules. She’s moaning now, soft little cries that go straight to my cock. “Teo,” she says, and the pleading in her voice is unmistakable.

  She wants more – exactly what I want to give her. But if I let go, if I don’t keep a tight grip on the reins, I might hurt her. And I’ll certainly break my promise to pull out. I’ll fill her with my seed, plant a baby in her belly.

  Not that I mind the idea. Of all the women I’ve known, there was never one I could imagine having kids with ... not until Quinn. The image of her swollen with my child is hot as fuck.

  “Teo, please.”

  “We gotta go slow, sweetheart.”

  “I’m all right.”

  I kiss her neck. “I’m hanging on by a thread.”

  One of her hands strokes down my back to cup my ass. “It’s … been a while?”

  “Years.” It’s why I know I’m safe, though she didn’t even ask me.

  “Honey,” she says, and there’s such gentle sorrow in her voice.

  I lift my head to look at her. “You’re sad I haven’t been screwing every woman in sight?”

  She presses a soft kiss to my lips. “I’m sad for whatever the reasons are that you’ve had to cut yourself off from every source of affection, comfort, support.”

  Fuck. This woman. She’s killing me. “Quinn Callahan,” I say, and she kisses me again, and I speed up a little because I can’t hold back any longer.

  We’re moving together now, her hips rising to meet me, the ancient rhythms taking over. I reach down to find her clit, and she covers my hand with hers. “That’s right,” I tell her. “You’re going to come on my cock.”

  Her head goes back, her breath coming in short gasps. “Teo!”

  “Come for me, Quinn.” I give her swollen tip a light pinch and she arches against me. “All the way, now. Let go.” My fingers circle and rub, and she cries out, her hips bucking wildly, driving her up onto my cock, her pussy clenching and releasing.

  I hold still until she goes limp beneath me. A few more strokes, and my balls tighten, electricity traveling from my toes to the base of my spine. At the last second, I jerk free and paint her breasts and belly with my release.

  She smiles at me like she just won the lottery.

  After we clean up, she curls against my side under the sleeping bag. Her hand traces lazy circles on my chest, but I can feel the weight of her unspoken questions. “Ask,” I say.

  “Ask what?”

  “Whatever you want.” Since I’m planning on keeping her, it’s only fair she find out what she’s signed up for. “Wait. Hang on a sec.”

  Grabbing my cell, I check the bars. Still nothing. That’s the only problem with this location; no one’s going to find us, but I can’t learn anything.

  I’ll have to driv
e out of here sometime today until I find a signal. “All right. Go ahead.”

  She starts with the obvious. “How did you come to be … doing what you’re doing? With Santiago.”

  “I’m a cop. I went undercover two and a half years ago to get inside his organization.”

  “That’s a long time,” she says quietly.

  “Yeah.” She’s not wrong about how isolated I’ve been. It was by design, but even so I didn’t anticipate just how hard it would be.

  “Did you volunteer?”

  “Yeah.” I sigh and tuck her closer. “You know my family’s close.”

  “Yes. I love that about them, even though I’m sure it has its moments.”

  “Right. Growing up, my brother Brando and I were best friends with Lando and Romero. We were all the same age, two sets of twins, more like brothers than cousins.

  “And then there was Gavriella.”

  “Another cousin?” she says after a moment.

  “Yeah. She was a year younger than the four of us. Tomboy, more interested in following us around than playing with dolls.”

  “Did you let her?”

  “Sometimes. We thought we were a bunch of little badasses, too cool to have a girl tagging along. But then we got a little older, and a little smarter, and started figuring out that girls were badasses too, in their own way.”

  Quinn doesn’t say anything, just plants a kiss on my chest. It feels like acknowledgment and thanks and benediction all at once.

  “Gavi and I talked a lot in high school. Dreams, goals, all of that. She wanted to be a science teacher.”

  “What did you want?”

  “Brando and I had pledged to join the military together after high school. And we did. We both made it into special forces training.”

  She’s silent a moment. “And Gavriella?”

  “The longer I was in, the further apart we got. There’s a lot that goes on that you can’t talk to anyone about. By the time I finally came home for good, I hadn’t had a serious conversation with her in years.”

 

‹ Prev