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Elia scoffs, righting the top of my dress and dropping to his knees. His hands come to my thighs, disappearing under the hem of my skirt. I suck in a breath as they inch higher, my clit pulsing as it waits. “You’re an adult. No one can force you to do anything.”
“Dominic Harrison can.”
He freezes, hands just below the bottom curve of my ass, and frowns. “What does he have on you?”
I shake my head, bringing my hands to his cheeks. The dark stubble lining his jaw is rough against my palms, and I smooth over it, trying to commit him to memory. “It’s not your problem.”
“Maybe not, but I want to help.”
“Why?”
“Do I need a reason to help a girl in distress?”
“First off, I’m not agirl, and I’m not in distress. I’m perfectly capable of helping myself.” My fingers walk up to his hair, unable to stay away. “Second, you don’t know me.”
“Do I need to know you to help you?”
“You ask a lot of questions, for someone who doesn’t answer any himself.”
“You haven’t asked me anything.”
“Nor do I want to. I’m not interested in getting to know you. If you want to help distract me from this god-awful party, be my guest. It’s the least you can do after hijacking my cigarette. If not, kindly leave me to sulk alone.”
Don’t leave. Please, don’t leave.
“Gesù Cristo. You’ve got quite the fucking mouth,mio amore.” His fingers skirt up and dig into my ass, hard enough to leave bruises. The slight bite of pain feels exquisite, like teetering on the precipice of danger and ultimate pleasure. He bunches my dress around my hips, exposing me in the dark alcove, and glances at the knife tucked into the waistband of my panties. One dark eyebrow arches.
I shrug, and a grin stretches across his face. He brushes against the handle, almost reverently, hooking his thumb in the crotch of my panties and yanking them aside. “Fucking perfect.”
Cool breath skitters across my bare pussy, sending a shiver through my veins, and his lips meet the inside of my inner thigh in an open-mouthed kiss. My back bows, fingers tightening their grip in his hair, holding him in place. “Fucking hell, you’re gorgeous. I cannot wait to destroy you.”
Coming down from the almost-high, I shake my head, trying to push him away. “No, we can’t do anything. Anyone could walk in—”
He sucks on the skin he just kissed, pulling it between his lips until my knees buckle. “That’s the point, baby. Let them come in and find me with my head between your legs. I bet dear old daddy won’t want to marry you off after you embarrass him.”
A squeak falls from my lips when his tongue makes contact with my clit, delving between my folds with little finesse. He dives in—a man on a mission—and takes what he wants. And while his determination turns me on, I can’t help but wonder if I’m making the right decision.
Still, no one’s ever donethisto me, and it feels really fucking good. Elia uses his fingers to spread me, lapping at the bundle of nerves like it’s water, and he’s lived his entire life without a single drop. He grunts and huffs against me, the sounds of my arousal obvious in the small room we’re in, heating my cheeks and making my legs shake.
“It won’t work—”
One long finger swirls around my entrance, pushing in gently. Oh my God. I’m being fingered by a mob boss in my cousin’s house. Can it get any more depraved than this?
Sitting back on his heels, Elia curls his finger inside me, stroking against my front walls. A fire low in my belly grows, orange and red flames dotting my vision as the pressure mounts.
“Marryme, then.”
“WHAT DO YOUMEAN, you’re getting married?” My younger sister, Juliet, asks from her spot on my bed. She tosses theCosmomagazine in her hand to the wastebasket and sits up, crossing her legs. “I didn’t even know you were dating someone.”
Shrugging, I pull on a pair of pink, flannel pajamas with snowboarding dogs on them. I can at least find comfort in these old rags while the rest of my life feels like it’s spiraling out of control.
“Because you’re never home—too busy making sex tapes and getting tossed in jail for public urination.”
“Uh,intoxication, thank you very much.” She sticks her tongue out at me, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, fingering the gold, heart-shaped locket draped around her neck; a present I gave her when she turned eighteen that she hasn’t taken off since. “And anyway, we have cellphones. We talk at least once a week, but somehow this guy’s never come up until now?”
“I don’t know, Jules. I guess maybe I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of the whole thing.”
“But itisa big deal! Daddy’s been trying to marry you off since you grew boobs!”
