She moved lower, her breath heating the flared head of his cock. Her head dipped and everything in him stilled. She licked up his sac, fingers and tongue working in tandem, until she sucked one ball into the heat of her mouth. Fire shot up his spine. His entire body jerked. Her fingers slid farther around him, massaging his perineum with a firmer glide. Several times she licked her fingers as she continued working on his balls.
His cock jerked eagerly, lengthening, thickening until his girth was even more intimidating. He murmured encouragement to her, his hands once more fisting in her hair. He had to hold on to something in order to keep from exploding. Breathing deeply, he concentrated on keeping his legs from turning to jelly.
She settled her fist around the base of his cock. Tightly. He waited. Counting his heartbeats. He felt her breath again. Her tongue flicked out and tasted the pearl drops leaking on the flared head. Holding his cock close to her mouth, she looked up at him and smiled. She was so close her lips moved against his shaft, sending a lightning strike straight through his groin. It was all he could do to keep from forcing her head over his cock. He’d never in his life wanted a blow job more than he did right at that moment and she hadn’t yet done anything to his cock.
“I don’t think you have to worry that I’ll enjoy myself.” Grace took a long lick up his shaft as if he were an ice-cream cone. Her tongue lingered over the sweet spot just beneath the flared head. She flicked her tongue experimentally. “I like your taste. It’s different. Salty, but good.”
Again, she wasn’t playing him. Her voice held that note that told him she was giving him the strict truth. He couldn’t help himself. He tightened his hold in her hair and guided her head that scant distance. “Then get to work before I embarrass myself.”
She opened her mouth and settled it around the sensitive head, her laughter vibrating through him. The sensation was almost too good to be true. His entire body shook, and he had to impose strict discipline to keep from forcing her mouth to envelop more.
Her tongue began a slow dance, as if she took him at his word and was exploring. Experimenting. She sucked hard and then was back to licking up and down his shaft and under the head. One hand moved from his balls to caress his inner thighs and then once again stroked fire along his perineum. The assault on his senses had his body straining and she had barely done anything to him.
“Look at me.” His command came out more of a growl than his usual soft dictate.
Her long lashes lifted and those green eyes of hers stared into his.
“I want you to take as much of me as you can fit into your mouth and suck. Use your tongue.” He spoke through clenched teeth. If she didn’t get to it soon, he really was going to lose it.
His life was about discipline. Nothing had ever threatened his discipline the way she did. She was completely inexperienced and had no real idea what she was doing, but her instincts were perfection. Small beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. His hips moved restlessly. His body screamed with urgent demand.
“Keep looking at me. I want to see your lips stretched around my cock. It’s so fucking sexy.” It was. Everything about her was sexy.
She obeyed him, slowly opening her mouth and drawing him in. He let her do the work, feeling the suction, the tight hold pressing around him. Her lips had to stretch to accommodate his size. No way she could take much, but her hand worked him, each tight slide sending flames dancing up his cock. Then her mouth suckled strong until he thought the top of his head might blow off. Her tongue took over, flicking, dancing, swirling up and over the head and then under it. Then she licked, getting him wet and starting all over again.
There was no way to last. None. She’d done him in almost from the moment her hand had brushed his body. She was no pro at sucking his cock, but she didn’t need to be. She was Grace. His Grace. He could see her enjoyment shining in her eyes. She was giving him this by giving him herself. Everything she did was for him. Every stroke of her tongue. Her tight suction and the artistry of her tongue.
He pulled at her hair, pulling her off of him with more regret than she’d ever know. “We’re going to stop right here, gattina.”
“No!” she wailed, and he could see the instant rejection of his command in her eyes and with the sudden pout.
Vittorio had never seen that particular expression and he wanted to kiss it off her face. “Yes. When I say enough, bella, I say it for a reason. Stand up and turn around. Ordinarily, I’d want you on your hands and knees, but we’re being every careful of that shoulder and arm. Right now, lie on your stomach, legs over the bed.”
She complied readily, and he leaned over her to make certain her arm was comfortable. Her feet didn’t quite reach the floor if her hips were on the edge of the bed. He liked that. It gave him far more control. Placing his hand on the small of her back to keep her from moving, he guided his very wet and hot cock to her slick entrance. He wasn’t nearly as careful entering her as he had been the first time. He simply drove through her reluctant folds, one hard invasion, the flames rushing over him as her body protested, trying to keep him out of that scorching hot paradise.
Grace sobbed his name and he didn’t stop. That glorious cry drove him on, the desperate need in her almost matching his own. He settled his fingers around both hips and, using his strength, pulled her smaller body into his and surged forward with his hips. Over and over. He closed his eyes and threw back his head, savoring the fact that he could go deeper, that he filled her, stretched her, gave her that burn that was everything she could want.
Her body clamped down, gripping his cock almost viciously, so that when he surged in and out of her, the friction grew, sending both to amazing heights. He had no idea how many times he brought them both to the edge, but when he finally tipped them over, her moans had turned to cries and her body swept his into something close to real paradise. He couldn’t believe the feeling of complete euphoria. For a moment he floated there, while flames licked over his body and centered like a firestorm in his cock.
Vittorio had to fight for air, but the sensations running through his body were worth the lack of ability to breathe. He let himself collapse over her, and when he could he kissed the nape of her neck and then down her spine. She didn’t move.
“I think we’re done tonight, gattina.”
“No hot tub?” Her voice was muffled.
“Bed. Not hot tub. And I’m sleeping with you.” He waited for her reply. He was sleeping with her and he’d find the energy to convince her if necessary.
“All right.”
Her soft consent earned her more kisses and then he cleaned them both up and tucked her into bed, curling his body around hers. She fell asleep immediately and he wasn’t far behind her.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
You’ll have to excuse me, Grace,” Vittorio said, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. “Please go ahead and continue your physical therapy while I see what kind of crisis my family is involved in this time.” He poured amusement into his voice, when he didn’t feel in the least amused.
Grace blinked up at him, suspicion in her expression. It was hell not being able to lie to her, especially when every Ferraro was certain that a war was brewing. It wasn’t bad enough that they had to contend with a cunning serial killer, they had to worry about a family whose history was steeped in violence.
“Everything is going to be okay,” he assured before she could protest. He deliberately glanced at the physical therapist, knowing she would take his silent cue and not ask any questions when they had a stranger in their midst.
She nodded, and he kissed her just because he loved that she followed his lead, even when she didn’t want to.
“Please be careful of tiring her out,” he cautioned the therapist. “There’s no need to push her so hard that she’s in pain afterward.” He put a warning in his voice. No one wanted to cross him. His beloved Grace might think he was the sweetest man on the planet, but the rest of the world was much more careful around him.
&
nbsp; Vittorio shut the door and immediately hurried down the hall to the room Merry had set up for his family to meet with him. Giovanni had to drive, but the others arrived via the shadows, even Eloisa, and that wasn’t a good sign.
He greeted his mother first, simply out of respect that she had given birth to him, but his greeting was cold. He couldn’t help it. Stefano had been more of a parent when he was ten than she’d ever been. Vittorio wasn’t too happy with her after the problems with Grace she’d caused him—deliberately, he was certain. He gripped his brother’s hand and accepted the hug Stefano always gave him.
“Thanks for coming here instead of having me drag Grace out.”
Eloisa rolled her eyes. “I don’t think there’s such a thing as an independent woman anymore. Is she so afraid of losing you that she can’t be without you for a day? That’s going to become a problem, Vittorio. You have serious work to do and nothing can interfere.”
“I don’t like my woman far from me, Eloisa,” Vittorio answered. “It’s my preference and she understands that and gives that to me. Fortunately, as an adult, I can choose the kind of lifestyle I want, and I don’t need anyone’s approval.”
She winced at his tone. The “least of all your approval” was implied. Stefano’s voice carried absolute authority, but Vittorio had recognized early on that he had a gift. His voice could be compelling, or commanding, and those in a room reacted to it. He could calm others down, arouse or infuriate, all with his tone. He used a reprimand, dark and threatening, to let her know she’d better stop before he retaliated in a way she wouldn’t like.
“You’re really going to marry her, aren’t you?” Eloisa changed tactics.
“Absolutely I am.”
“Even with this serial killer stalking your family.”
Stefano sighed. “The implication being that Phillips being a madman and targeting all of us is Grace’s fault?”
“Of course not,” Eloisa snapped. “But she did bring him straight to us.”
“That’s a good thing,” Taviano weighed in. “Who better to bring such a man to than us? We’re shadow riders and we’re supposed to mete out justice to those the law has been unable to reach.”
Eloisa turned on him with a hiss of annoyance. “You have managed to make yourself scarce. I’ve called you dozens of times in the last few days. You didn’t even have the courtesy to return my calls.”
Taviano glanced at Stefano. Vittorio didn’t blame him for the uneasy look he sent his older brother. Eloisa was a pain, but she was their mother and Stefano demanded they all respect that. She was also a fellow shadow rider and for that alone, she needed to be respected. She wasn’t, after all these years, going to step up and be a real mother, but none of them would have accepted that from her anyway. Still, Stefano insisted they answer her calls and put up as best they could with her lectures.
Stefano sent Taviano a hard look, one that promised they would be having a private conversation after the meeting. Taviano acknowledged the look with a nod, because none of them would ever disrespect Stefano.
“I’m sorry, Eloisa,” Taviano said. “I flew to Los Angeles to take care of business there and then represented our family at the meeting in New York for the Internet company we’re considering buying. However, I should have made the time immediately.”
Vittorio knew Taviano was pointing out the obvious, not to Eloisa but to Stefano. They all, including Taviano, knew it wouldn’t be considered a good enough excuse.
“You announced to everyone at the meeting with the Saldi family that you were engaged to Nicoletta. That is impossible. The girl is . . .” Eloisa trailed off to search for the proper word.
“Be careful,” Taviano cautioned. “She belongs to me. You don’t have to like it, or sanction my choice, but she’s mine and I’ll defend her with everything in me.”
Eloisa threw her hands into the air. “Have all of you gone insane? I realize there are very few choices for you to make, but better an arranged marriage from a good family than scraping the bottom of the barrel. At least Sasha has a proper pedigree. Her lineage is one of great value to the riders. And Mariko has tremendous value. Her ancestors, at least on her father’s side, are some of the greatest riders in history. Even Francesca is better than the choices you and your brother are making. I feel as if you’re children, deliberately defying your mommy because you don’t like her. Just remember, you will be saddled with these women for a lifetime.”
“I’m sorry you don’t like my choice, Eloisa,” Vittorio said. “But she will be my wife and therefore a member of this family. I expect you to treat her with respect. You don’t have to love her or even see your grandchildren when we have them, if you don’t want to, but when you’re around Grace, I want her to feel as if you know she’s a member of our family. I also expect that you give her business your full support.”
“Her business?” Eloisa all but spat the words at him. “I believe it’s called KB Events for a reason. Katie Branscomb is the face of the business. Grace is a mere, very replaceable partner, and a not very good one at that, as I’ve pointed out to Katie on many occasions.”
“Actually, Eloisa,” Vittorio said, his voice pitched low. Ultra-calm. He knew every single family member could hear the lie in her voice. Eloisa had to know that. “Grace is a full partner for a reason, yes. Katie is the face of the business, talking and hand-holding difficult clientele, while Grace sees to every detail. It’s Grace that gives you the perfect event every time. I’m surprised you didn’t figure that out. Grace, because of Haydon Phillips, protected everyone by staying in the background, but as you’re usually so good at realizing what’s really going on, but didn’t, I’ll have to tell Grace she was particularly clever.” It was a compliment and yet not.
Eloisa scowled. “I can barely believe such a thing.” Her voice was caustic.
“You know damn well she’s a full partner for that reason, Eloisa,” Stefano snapped. “You investigate everyone. There’s no way you wouldn’t know.”
“Exactly,” Vittorio confirmed.
Unrepentant, but clearly reluctant to go into her reasons for lying, Eloisa shook her head and then turned her attention to her youngest son. “When did you ask Nicoletta Gomez to marry you? She’s too young for you.”
“She’s old enough.”
Vittorio noticed Taviano avoided his mother’s question and realization dawned. Taviano hadn’t asked Nicoletta to marry him. He’d proclaimed they were engaged and his voice had rung with truth only because he intended to marry her, not because they were formally engaged. He intervened before their mother could follow up.
“Stefano, what’s happened that we all needed to be here?”
Stefano glanced at his watch. “Giovanni is pulling up now and we’ll start as soon as he gets here. There’s been a few unsettling developments between the Saldi family and ours.”
Vittorio moved closer to his sister. Emmanuelle was seated in one of the larger wide-armed chairs, her legs drawn up tailor-fashion, a look Eloisa detested and often reprimanded her daughter for. Emmanuelle looked young and defenseless. Sad and very vulnerable. His heart went out to her and every protective instinct rose.
At Stefano’s revelation, Eloisa immediately looked at her daughter, her face a mask of accusations.
“Don’t.” Vittorio rarely used absolute authority in Stefano’s presence. “I’ve gone beyond calm to something else. Just don’t.” It was all the warning she was going to get.
Emilio opened the door to allow Giovanni into the room. He closed it after, no doubt standing in front of it on the other side to ensure they weren’t disturbed.
Giovanni greeted them all. “What’s up?”
Stefano waved him to a chair. The room had been set up with comfortable furniture in a circle with a table filled with refreshments in the center. Giovanni threw himself into the only chair available.
“As you all know, I gave Giuseppi the names of those suspected of working with their family in our territory. When we we
nt to question those people, they had disappeared. Bruno Vitali was found murdered this morning, his body rolled in a carpet from his apartment and stuffed in a dumpster not far from his home.”
A collective gasp went up. Eloisa half rose. “I should go to Theresa. She must be beside herself. Has she been told?”
Stefano nodded. “Yes. Art Maverick and Jason Bradshaw caught the case and they called me, although, of course, I’d already been informed as soon as he was found. They know our family looks after Signora Vitale. Emmanuelle, Sasha and I went with them to tell her. As expected, she went to pieces. Sasha is with her now.” He glanced at his brother. “Sasha didn’t know until we got there what was going on.”
Giovanni nodded. “She told me she was going on an errand with you. I knew she was safe, so I didn’t ask anything else.”
“I left Tomas and Cosimo with them. I’m not taking any chances with Phillips on the loose.”
“Bruno was Theresa’s last living relative here,” Eloisa said. “She has cousins in Sicily, but no one in the United States. Bruno was so young.”
“He agreed to work for the Saldis, Eloisa.” Stefano’s voice was gentle. “He betrayed our family for money.”
“But to kill him when his grandmother has no one else . . .” Eloisa trailed off, looking down at her hands. “No matter what we do, how long we dedicate our lives to fighting murderers and rapists, there’s always more.”
Vittorio turned his full attention to his mother. She sounded so tired. Weary was a better word, as if her exhaustion wasn’t just physical, but mental and emotional as well. He understood. They lived in the shadows, giving up their lives to training, killing, and living alone without much hope. They had all the money in the world, and to the world appeared as the spoiled useless playboys Grace and her partner thought them. In reality they led lives of extreme discipline.
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