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I narrow my eyes. There is something about the way he says the word that makes it sound less innocent than it should. But before I can ask what he means, his lips move lower, kissing the sensitive spot beneath my ear. My fingers tighten around the coffee mug.
“Dario.”
“Hmm?”
The sound vibrates against my pulse and my brain short-circuits. I swallow a moan. “You’re distracting me.”
“That’s the point,” he murmurs.
His hand slips beneath the shirt I’m wearing, and my breath catches. “I love when you wear my clothes,” he murmurs before nipping at my pulse and sucking hard.
A soft whimper fills the room as he plucks hard at my nipples, then rolls and flicks the hardened nubs. My sex clenches in response as a loud moan leaves my lips. “Oh, Dario…”
He turns me around, and I grip the edge of the kitchen island, my knuckles white, as Dario sinks to his knees in front of me. The shirt I’m wearing rides up my thighs, and his dark eyes flare with hunger as he pushes it higher, baring me completely.
“Fuck,” he breathes, his hands sliding up the insides of my thighs, spreading me open. “Look at you. Already wet for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”
I want to argue, but the evidence is undeniable. My sex throbs with need, my clit aching for contact. And when he leans in and drags his tongue through my folds in one slow, deliberate stroke, my head falls back on a moan.
“Quiet,” he murmurs against my skin, the vibration making me jerk. “Let me have my breakfast.”
His mouth closes over my clit, sucking with just enough pressure to make my vision blur. His fingers find my entrance, two of them sliding deep, curling upward to stroke that spot that makes my knees buckle. I would collapse if his other hand weren’t gripping my hip, holding me exactly where he wants me.
“So responsive,” he growls, the words muffled against my most sensitive flesh. “So fucking sweet. Do you know what you taste like, Katya?”
I shake my head frantically, unable to form words.
“Heaven,” he answers, and then his tongue is flicking my clit in rapid, merciless strokes while his fingers pump into me, faster, deeper. “And I’m starving for it.”
The pleasure builds like a storm, coiling tight in my belly. I’ve learned his rhythm by now, learned how he likes to draw it out until I’m begging. But this morning, he’s relentless. His mouth devours me. His fingers drive into me with purpose. And when he groans against my sex, the vibration shatters the last of my control.
I come hard, my body convulsing, my cry echoing through the kitchen as wave after wave crashes through me. He doesn’t stop. He licks me through it, until I’m trembling and gasping and clinging to the counter for dear life.
When he finally rises, his lips are glistening, his eyes heavy with satisfaction. He licks them clean, humming at the taste, and pulls me against his chest. “You’re becoming my drug,” he murmurs against my hair, his voice rough with truth. “The first thing I need in the morning. The only thing I crave.”
I melt into him, my heart hammering, my body still humming. He tilts my head and kisses me, slow and possessive, until everything else in the world becomes completely irrelevant. And just as I’m beginning to forget my own name, a throat clears behind us.
“Boss.”
Dario groans softly before breaking the kiss. I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. Aldo stands in the doorway looking entirely too unsurprised by the scene in front of him.
“Sorry,” I say, glancing at Aldo.
Aldo gives me a knowing smile. “No need.”
Dario straightens. The softness disappears from his expression so quickly that I almost wonder if I imagined it. And suddenly his gaze turns hard and cold. The expression looks all too familiar and sends a shiver down my spine.
“What is it?” he asks in a tone that brooks no argument.
“We have a situation in the city.”
Dario’s jaw tightens. “I’ll handle it.”
He looks at me before leaving, and the hardness in his eyes softens again. “I’ll be back tonight.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
