Page 56 of Out of Control

“What do they say about me?” He leans forward and takes my breast between his lips. “That I’m difficult?” A kiss to my sternum. “Selfish?” A warm suction on my other nipple. “Reckless?” A slide of his tongue up the line of my neck. “Out of control?” An open-mouthed kiss on that spot just beneath my ear. “They’re all true. Every single one.” He brushes his lips against mine. “I hope that answer doesn’t disappoint you.”

I thread my fingers through the hair at the back of his neck and pull his lips back for another kiss as an answer.

It’s long and languorous. A slide of tongues. A whisper of sighs. A slip of the two of us into something so much more than just lust.

And when the kiss ends, when between my thighs is slick with arousal and my body burns so bright I fear it could detonate, Rossi tucks me in beside him, with my head on his chest.

We lie there in the quiet. In a silent acknowledgment that whatever’s between us hasn’t been sated with sex. It has been stoked.

When my phone vibrates on the nightstand for the fifth time, Rossi sighs. “I think you’re wanted in reality, Bellissima.”

I sit up, grab my phone off the nightstand, and cringe.

“Hello?”

“You alive?” my brother asks.

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

“Why haven’t you answered?”

“My phone was dead. I was busy. I didn’t want to. All of those answers should suffice.” I melt into the feeling of Rossi reaching out and running his fingers up and down my bare back. There’s something so casual about it, so intimate, which sounds ridiculous considering the sex we just had, but it’s true. It’s an unexpected touch, unneeded, but given, nonetheless. As if he can’t resist having his hands somewhere on me at all times.

“Someone’s hungover.” He chuckles. “Open up. I’m outside. I have stuff for you.”

“Um.” I glance back toward Rossi and smile. “I can’t. I’m not there.”

“Why the hell . . . ohhhh.” It took him long enough. “Where are you?”

You’d kill me if you knew. “None of your business. I hope Maddix had a good time last night.”

“Sofia.”

“Cruz,” I repeat back in the same warning, disapproving tone. “I’m fine. I’m busy. I’ll talk to you later.”

And with that I end the call, put my phone on do not disturb, and toss it on the far end of the bed.

“I just love when the big brother calls to check up,” he says sarcastically.

“You should,” I say, turning and crawling to straddle his lap. “It’s to your benefit.”

“How’s that exactly?” he asks as his hands find the sides of my waist and I feel his cock harden beneath me.

“It makes me want to do everything he thinks that I shouldn’t.” Can his hands never leave me? “He makes me want to rebel against all his rules.”

“Like?”

I grind over him with only the sheet between us. My body is so deliciously sore but it’s ready for more. I lift up and free him from the fabric, then I line him up at my entrance. I’m already so damn wet for him. So ready to be pleasured into submission again.

His fingers tighten.

He hisses out a breath.

I lower myself ever so slowly onto him. Each blissful inch feels like the best kind of torture.

And when I bottom out, when he’s bucking his hips, his fingers bruising and his restraint held by a thread, I rock my hips forward and whisper, “Like you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE