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Slowly she came down and slid off my cock, moaning as she collapsed onto her back. I smirked at her, still rock hard, and stroked myself.
She crawled over to me, eyes wide, then took me in her mouth.
“Good girl,” I whispered as she sucked me. “Good fucking girl. Lick your cum off my shaft.”
She moaned, low and throaty, sucking me faster and faster. I was right on that edge, had been riding it the whole time, and I knew I couldn’t help myself now. I teased her breasts as she went down deep on my cock.
I came in her pretty mouth, came hard between her lips.
She swallowed it up, licked it all and gobbled it down. I groaned, head tilted back. She cleaned me with her tongue, slow and precise, looking up into my eyes with this pretty smirk that drove me wild.
When she was done, I pulled her close and held her sweaty body against my own.
“There we go,” I said, my voice hoarse from groaning. “I’ve been thinking about that since we met.”
“And did I live up to your dirty mind?”
“You exceeded all expectations,” I said, and kissed her again.
We stayed like that, silent and close. I felt her breathing, felt her body.
“What you said out in the hall,” she said, breaking that comfortable silence.
Pulling us back down into reality.
“Yeah?”
“About the Don hurrying me.”
“I know.”
“Does that mean he just—” She paused and looked up into my eyes. “Is he going to take advantage of me?”
I opened my mouth to defend him then stopped. I couldn’t lie to her, not now, not ever.
“I don’t know,” I said. “He might just want to get the deal finished before whatever the Jalisco are planning. Or he might want to get his cut before he throws you away.”
“Would he do that? To his own niece?”
“I don’t know,” I said again.
“You know that’s wrong, don’t you?”
I looked into her eyes and reached out, touching her cheek. “I won’t leave you,” I said. “No matter what. If the Don wants to try and screw you over, I’ll argue on your behalf. And if he won’t see reason, I’ll keep you safe myself.”
“You’d go against your own people?”
“I’d do what I have to do,” I said.
She chewed on her lip then nodded to herself, like she was accepting my answer. She leaned her head against my chest again and we stayed wrapped in each other on top of the soft, silken sheets beneath the gauzy canopy of her enormous bed, feeling each other’s bodies, luxuriating in the touch of smooth skin and pleasure.19ClairI spent the rest of that day in and out of bed with Luca, the world a blurry thing just in my peripheral vision, forgotten and set aside, ignored for his body, his touch, his taste.
He lounged back on my couch, a glass of whiskey in one hand, swirling it around. It was after ten at night and we’d just spent the last twenty minutes sweating in bed together, fucking for the fourth time that day. I felt sore, exhausted, so spent I could barely stand, and my head buzzed with delight. I sat with my back against the arm of the couch and my feet in his lap, wearing a pair of cotton shorts and a loose t-shirt. He was in a pair of gym shorts and a tight black t-shirt he’d grabbed from his room a couple hours before.
“I’ve been wondering,” he said, “what made you change your mind?”
I pulled at a strand of hair, straightening it then letting it bounce back. “I talked with my mom this morning,” I said.
“Yeah? I find it hard to believe that endeared you to me.”
I grinned a little and shrugged, putting the lock of hair in my mouth, chewing on it. “You’d be surprised,” I said.
“What?”
I spit out the hair. “She told me about my dad,” I said.
“I bet that’s an interesting story.”
“I’d never really heard it before,” I said. “She didn’t talk about him, you know, before he died. Just talked about how bad the mob was, how awful they were, how she hated you all.”
“I can see where you got your charm from then.”
I gave him a flat glare. “She was in love with him,” I said. “Really loved him, and when I realized that, I sort of realized that everything after, all that hate, it’s all grief. I mean, you guys are a bunch of bastards and assholes and killers, but you’re not all evil. I don’t think so, anyway.”
“We’re not,” he said, sipping his whiskey.
“When I realized I didn’t know what to think, I decided I should just… do what felt good.”
“Makes sense.” He tilted his head, swirled the drink. “That’s what I’ve always done.”
“Yeah?” I asked. “How does that work out?”
He was quiet for a few seconds. “Not always great,” he said. “But then again, I don’t have many regrets, so it must not be so bad.”
