She leaned in, touching her lips to his. She didn’t want to talk about Diego anymore. Or to think about him. She just wanted to remind herself that Luca was real. That she hadn’t dreamed everything between them.
He groaned as she slipped her tongue between his lips and leaned in closer. His arms were around her a second later, crushing her to him, his hands roaming her back while he slanted his mouth over hers, taking their kiss deeper, exploring her mouth like it was the first time he’d tasted her.
She ran her hands under his shirt, let them roam the smooth muscles of his chest before reaching for his belt buckle. A moment later, one of his big hands came around hers.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Is it Sofia? Because she’ll be doing homework for at least an hour, and Diego isn’t home. We’re all alone here.”
“It’s not Sofia,” he said.
She pressed her hand to his erection, straining against his jeans. “Don’t you want me?”
But even as she asked the question she wondered if this was the beginning. The beginning of Luca being afraid to touch her because of what he’d seen on the video. He would mean well. It would be to protect her. To spare her the trauma of sex after rape. But the reason wouldn’t matter. She wouldn’t feel his naked body against hers again. Wouldn’t find the oblivion she needed, the release she craved, in his arms.
“Don’t I…” He ran a hand through his hair, looking away before turning back to her with anguished eyes. “I have never wanted anyone so much in my entire life, Isabel.”
“Then what?” she asked.
“I just…” He got up, paced the room. “When I think about what those animals did…”
She stood, went to him, stopped him in his tracks. She lifted her hands to his cheeks, made him look her in the eyes. “No, querido. We don’t talk about that. Not when it’s time for us to be together. I’m not afraid to be with you. Don’t you understand? You heal me. Make me whole. Your body against mine, inside mine, is what makes me know I can live again.”
He lifted a hand to her cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You could never hurt me,” she said softly. “Not when I want you so much. But this can’t be between us. I need to feel… normal when we’re together. I need…” She hesitated, blinking back tears.
“What?”
“I need to know that the video isn’t what you see when you look at me, when you’re inside me.”
He ran a knuckle down her cheek. “Do you know what I see when I look at you?”
She shook her head.
“I see the bravest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I see someone with the kind of quiet strength that moves mountains, that diverts rivers. I see you, Isabel, in all your beauty and kindness and tenderness.”
“It won’t make it… hard?” she asked. “To be with me again?”
“The only thing that’s hard about being with you, honey, is forcing myself to savor you, because all I want to do when you’re naked beside me is take you and make you mine.”
“Then take me,” she said softly, looking into his eyes. “Make me yours.”
He growled and pulled her to him, lowering his mouth to hers, plundering her with a force that took her breath away. She wrapped her arms around his neck, molded her body to his, felt the hard press of his cock against her belly. She was immediately wet for him, a humming at the center of her body like some kind of primeval call to his.
He picked her up in his arms and carried her back to the bed. He set her next to it and lifted her shirt over her head, then unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. He touched her shoulders, ran his hands down her arms, then cupped her breasts inside her apricot colored bra.
He squeezed, his eyes turning liquid as he took in the swollen flesh, the taut buds already straining against the lace, wanting his tongue, his mouth.
He lowered his mouth to her neck, and she let her head fall to the side, torn between wanting to pull away from the perfect torture of his lips on her skin and wanting to beg for more. He licked his way to the little dip at the center of her throat and she felt her pussy grow even wetter, imagined the way it felt to have his tongue in the cleft between her legs, licking and lapping and sucking until she moaned out loud.
He took one nipple in his mouth through the fabric, and she tugged at the hair on the back of his head. “Luca…” she gasped.
“Tell me, baby,” he murmured against her breast. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you,” she gasped. “Everywhere.”
His chuckle vibrated through his body, reverberated through her own. “You’re going to have to be more specific, sweetheart.”
“I want your cock in my mouth,” she said. “And then I want it inside me.”
“I can get on board with those things,” he said. “But what about what I want?”
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I want to lick that sweet pussy,” he said. “I want to suck your clit until you writhe under my mouth. I want to feel you tighten around my fingers while I taste you coming.”
“You’ve already done those things,” she said, turning him around so his back was against the bed. She pushed him back onto the mattress. “Now it’s my turn.”
He propped himself on his elbows and grinned. “If you insist.”
She unbuttoned his pants and slid them down his legs, her pussy already thrumming at the site of his enormous cock inside the thin fabric of his boxer briefs. It sprung free, standing at attention in all its glory. She lowered herself between his legs and watched it pulse as her shoulders brushed the inside of his thighs. Then she took it in her hands, stroking it slowly, thinking how funny it was that so many people revered the naked female body. Historically, the male body was every bit as seductive, and Isabel had cut her drawing teeth by sketching Michelangelo’s David over and over again, her pencil scratching softly against the paper while she followed the line of muscled pec to sculpted thigh. There the penis wasn’t just a symbol of the erotic, but of power and beauty.
That’s how Isabel felt now, looking up at Luca’s naked body on the bed, his arms bulging as he supported his weight, eyes dark as he watched her stroke him. His stomach was flat and hard, and she took one hand and rubbed her palm across it while she continued stroking him. They’d been together once before, but that had been before he knew about the video. She’d been carried away on the tide of her passion, so strong it almost hadn’t felt like a choice. Now she kept her eyes on him while she touched him. She wanted to be with him body and soul. Wanted him to know this was different for her than what had happened with Diego’s men. Wanted him to know she wasn’t afraid.
He was pulsing in her hand, the silken skin of his shaft like satin against her palm. She leaned in and flicked her tongue against the tip before closing her mouth around it and sucking. He tipped his head back and sucked in a breath, and she lowered her lips onto him slowly, letting him sink into her mouth inch by inch until he was at the back of her throat. She held him there for a minute, letting him throb in the moist heat, then slid upward to the head again. He lifted his head, looked at her with eyes glazed over with desire.
“You’re amazing, Isabel. So fucking amazing.”
She answered him by lowering her mouth again, letting him fill it as she brushed her lips against his thick base. She massaged his balls with one hand, because she’d read somewhere than men liked that. It must have been true, because he growled as her hand moved against his softness, her mouth moving up and down on his cock.
She felt powerful, in charge. It was something she hadn’t expected. Not after everything that happened. But there was something about her command over him at his most vulnerable, about the fact that he was baring himself to her so completely, trusting her with the most vulnerable parts of his body, trusting her to bring him the same kind of pleasure he brought her.
It was heady, and she felt a surge of euphoria move through her body, her pussy growing slicker, prepping itse
lf to take him as he grew bigger inside her mouth.
Finally he touched her shoulders and pulled her upward. “If you don’t come up here and ride me, I’m going to come, Isabel,” he said. “And I want to come inside you.”
She reached inside the nightstand where she’d seen him pull out a condom the night before. She found a box there and took one out, then rolled it over his thick shaft before climbing onto the bed, her pussy poised above the thick head of his cock. So close she could almost feel it.
She thought he might push her down on top of him. Instead, he reached up and cupped her face with his hands, pulled her face toward his, kissed her tenderly. She stayed like that for a minute, lost in the velvety feel of his mouth on hers, his tongue warm and soft in her mouth. But it didn’t last long. It never did. They could try to be tender, but in the end their passion always got the better of them.
His kisses became more urgent, and she matched his tongue thrust for thrust, feeling the kiss all the way in her core. Finally he took hold of her hips and slid her into position over him, then pushed her onto his shaft so fast and hard that she cried out from the pleasure of it.
He groaned into the room, and Isabel was glad Sofia was in her own room with the door closed. Glad the other guards were gone, that Diego wasn’t home. She wanted to really feel Luca inside her, wanted him to know how much pleasure he was giving her. She didn’t want to hold back, and she wrapped her hands around his neck and rode him, dragging her pussy all the way up the length of his cock only to push down on it again, letting him drive into her until he touched the part of her that sent chills up her spine, until her eyes stung with tears not from love or sadness, but from the sheer weight of her pleasure.
She moved faster over him, feeling her orgasm build from the friction against her clit, sending shockwaves to the epicenter of her body.
“Luca…”
“You’re close, baby. I can feel it,” he murmured. “I can feel your pussy tightening around my cock, getting ready to come all over it.”
Yes,” she gasped. “I’m going to come.”
“You are going to come,” he said, as if there had never been any doubt. “We’re going come together. I want to feel you explode around me, and I’m going to pour my come into you at the same time.”
The words were so erotic, so dirty and taboo, that they sent her careening even faster toward her orgasm, flipping some switch she hadn’t known existed inside her, turning on a light that was more like a fire.
She moved faster over him, letting him push her onto his cock by grabbing her hips, burying himself inside her while she closed her eyes, letting the light wash away the darkness behind her eyelids, like the glow at the end of a tunnel, her body the train barreling toward it with no hope of stopping.
“Oh, god…” she cried out.
And then she was bursting out into the sunlight, the darkness nothing but a memory as she shuddered around him, his own body jerking faster as he released his come into her at the same time.
“Fuck, Isabel…”
He grabbed her ass, still moving under her until the last spasm moved through him. She dropped her head to his shoulder, inhaling the musky scent of Luca mixed with their passion. When she gathered her breath, she spoke.
“It was kind of fun being in control.”
His laughter rumbled through his chest, lit up all the dark corners of the room. “If that’s you in control,” he said, “I have absolutely no problem with it.”
27
Luca waited until Sofia was home from school to leave the house again. He wasn’t crazy about leaving Isabel with Diego under any circumstances, but Diego seemed to mostly leave her alone when Sofia was there. Probably Diego’s fucked up brand of chivalry.
Luca didn’t count on it lasting. Diego had the energy of a wolf baring its teeth in the moment before it attacked. He wasn’t on the move yet, but he smelled blood.
Things were only going to get worse from here.
He couldn’t stand to see what Diego was doing to Isabel, and it was just a glimpse of what was in store for Sofia when she got older and inherited her share of the fortune. He wanted to to curse Silvio Fuentes for leaving all his money to his daughters. Clearly Silvio had reservations about Diego, but leaving his daughters the money that his son would need to run their drug empire was a fuck up of colossal proportions. Didn’t the old man see this coming? Then again, it was hard to imagine anyone doing what Diego had done to Isabel, and it had to be exponentially harder when that person was your son.
He pulled the LaFerrari up to the valet outside an upscale bar near the water and took the ticket. It was another perfect, cloudless day in Miami, and while he was grateful for the warmth, he was also annoyed by the stubborn brightness of it all. Things were going to shit in the Fuentes house, and a storm of epic proportions was on the horizon. A little New York gloom would have been more fitting than the endless blue sky overhead, the balmy breeze blowing in off the water.
He shook off his dread and made his way inside. The walls were lined with paneling designed to look like driftwood, and beach themed detritus decorated the walls; empty bottles, fishing nets, life preservers he was supposed to believe washed ashore as opposed to being purchased from some kitschy wholesale outlet online. He stopped at the bar and ordered a beer, scanning the room while he waited. By the time the bartender put the cold bottle in his hand, he’d spotted the man he was looking for sitting in a booth at the back of the room. Luca paid the bartender and headed that way.
The man was enormous, even bigger than Marco or Elia, but with the alertness of a lion. Luca had seen him in action, and he had no doubt that if the situation called for it, the man would be on his feet in under two seconds in spite of his size. He was one of the few men who’d made even Nico nervous.
And any man who made Nico nervous should make anyone nervous.
Luca slid into the booth. “Farrell,” he said. “Thanks for coming.”
Farrell Black shook his head. “This is becoming a habit.”
He spoke with a clipped British accent that defied his blue-collar appearance. Luca knew from their time at the Syndicate together — Farrell had run the London mob — that he was educated at Oxford, the son of an esteemed scholar. He’d always wondered how Farrell had ended up in organized crime.
Not that he’d ever ask.
He had no idea what Farrell was up to now, but he found it hard to believe Farrell had willingly disbanded the group of vicious men who worked for him. Farrell had always been more about the violence than the money, though he had plenty of both. Whatever he was into wasn’t something Luca wanted to know about.
Luca nodded. “I know. Thanks for coming.”
He shrugged. “I was in the States anyway.”
He still wore his hair shaved close to his head, the shadows on his cheeks and chin hinting at the fact that he had bigger things to worry about than shaving. Tattoos snaked out from under his T-shirt, and the scar on the left side of his face gave him an even more menacing appearance, something Luca wouldn’t have thought was possible.
“How are things in London?” Luca asked.
“It’s a shit show,” Farrell said, taking a drink of his beer. “I’m trying to take advantage of the situation.”
Luca couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Good for you.”
“How are Nico and the girl?” Farrell asked.
Luca couldn’t remember ever hearing him call Angel by her name, and he wondered what had happened to Farrell that had soured him on women. Luca had never been marriage material, but he liked women, and he didn’t inherently distrust them. Farrell seemed intent on keeping his distance from even the appearance of being sympathetic to women.
“They’re safe,” Luca said. “Have a baby daughter now.”
Farrell took another drink of his beer as a shadow passed in front of his eyes. “Poor bastard.”
Luca didn’t know what to say to that, so he dove right into the reason for their meeting. “Wha
t I need is an easy thing, but with everyone underground or being watched by the Feds, I couldn’t think of anyone else to ask.”
“How do you know I’m not being watched by the Feds?” he asked, meeting Luca’s gaze.
“You probably are,” Luca said. “But we’re old friends. Figured we could have a beer without it being a thing."
“I’m listening.”
“I’m going to set up one of our guys as a bodyguard, but I don’t have anyone to vouch for him,” Luca said.
“Wouldn’t one of the New York crew make more sense?”
Luca thought about his answer. Diego was hiring his own men for a reason. He wanted to make sure the people he brought in were loyal to him and not Luca, which meant he probably wouldn’t consider anyone with ties to the Syndicate in New York.
“Not in this case,” Luca said. “I need some distance from the Vitale family.”
“London isn’t much of a distance,” he said. “We were all part of the same machine, remember?”
“But the Syndicate ran everything, all over the world,” Luca said. “It’s not suspicious for my guy to have worked for you in London. I just can’t have him connected to me in New York.”
“What do you need me to say?”
“Just the usual,” Luca said. “Guy worked for you as hired muscle. Collections, sending personal messages, keeping people in line, that kind of thing. Loyal, vicious, all the usual requirements.”
Farrell nodded, but he was silent so long Luca started to wonder if he was going to say no. For all he knew Farrell was as anxious to keep his distance from New York as everyone else. A moment later, he spoke.
“I’ll do it.”
“Thanks.” Luca tried not to show his relief. Having Marco on the inside would be another layer of safety for Isabel — and another layer of backup for himself. He reached into his pocket for a pen and scrawled Marco’s name on a napkin, followed by Diego’s. “This is the man who’s going to call you. I need you to vouch for Marco. Tell Diego that Marco’s been with you awhile, that you’d trust him with your life in any situation. If he mentions me, say you’ve heard of me, but you don’t know me personally.”
[2016] Muscle Page 10