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A wicked smile descends on his attractive face as the song fades. He sits in the chair as the beat starts up, with his heated gaze on me. I recognize “Grind on me . . .” by Pretty Ricky.Damn, Ginuwine’s “Pony” would be perf—oh, hell, Gina, stop it.
I’m telling myself to avert my gaze. Impossible! Santino’s hands are behind him on the edge of the seat as his powerful legs extend wide. The lascivious move draws my eyes to his friggin package! Santino runs a hand down his chest, fucking his hips upward again. His fluid movements are mesmerizing.
The chorus starts over. Santino shreds the shirt from across his waxed chest when I snap, “Stop that!”
Pieces of clothing go everywhere. My eyes follow his muscular body onto a handstand. He brings one leg down slowly and starts screwing the ground. Flips over, gradually ending up on his knees, and brings his muscular arms down as Pretty Rick says, “let me get deeper . . .”
Lawd, have mercy. Suddenly my hot face is cooling off. I gasp at the sight of my hands, fanning me!Check yourself, Gina,I reprimand, sitting on my hands.
“This is ridiculous, Santino.” I flounce off the bed. If he can jump and twist and spin, I can too. I’m out of here.
“Mollare qualcuno!”
In a tone that could melt my heart while I’m rolling around naked in Antarctica, Santino tells me, ‘not to go.’
I stop at the top of the stairs with my back to him, gaze cast to the ground. “I’m sorry. All I see is other women . . . they’re craving you in ways that I thought was special between us.”
“Gina, I made one mistake . . . Do you know how much it fucking hurts to watch you walk away?”
Though my heart is heavy, I smile a little. “I thought you loved watching me walk away.”
My left foot has descended one step when the radio goes flying past me. It shatters against the wooden column, pieces crashing along the wood floor below. “Was that the last straw?” I murmur. “You’re done with me now?”
Santino’s arm wraps around my waist. He pulls me back up. In my attempt to flee, I gasp in the heady scent of his clean skin.
“I’m not done with you, Bella!”
“San—”
His mouth captures my lips in a heated kiss. With his fingers at the small back, Santino pins my wrists above my head. My ass slaps back against the wall. I hadn’t realized how cold I am when not in the bed or near heat. But the heat of his body is a welcoming contrast against the chilly wall. The aggressor in me melts away. His teeth focus on my bottom lip, sucking it inside of his mouth. Involuntarily, my body compresses as he lets out a primitive growl.
“Sweet, thick, succulent like those pussy lips.” Santino runs his tongue along my mouth.
My fingers thread through his hair. The lining of my sex convulsing in need of the same attention. Santino’s mouth teases and nips a trail across my neck. His other hand skates across my curves.
“I remember tasting you for the first time.” Santino’s mouth bites the round globe of my breast as they spill over my bra. “I worked my way down your body just like this, took my time with you.”
I gasp as he presses fervent kisses along my areola, preoccupied with my aching nipple.
“I haven’t been so satisfied since I last tasted you, Gina.”
Wriggling a wrist free, I caress his chiseled jaw, bringing him back to my mouth. With his mouth all over mine, Santino’s hand skims into my panties. His finger flicks my clit, and a thrilling shudder spirals through my entire body.
“How does it feel, Gina?”
“Incredible.” I relish in Santino’s touch as if he’s Columbus on a voyage to explore every square inch of me. The second my eyes snap shut, the past torments me.
“No, Santino,” I groan, averting my gaze from him. “Stop. I’m sorry. I just can’t . . . Every time I close my eyes, Santino . . .”
Resentment flashes in his dark gaze. “I’ve broken so many laws since you were taken from me.”
“What?” My gaze slides over to his. The delicious desire in my core is expanding, but it’s not alone. Some other emotion is bubbling up to meet it. Concern, fear, worry. My heart was drumming double time in my chest. Now it’s pounding in my ears. “What are you talking about?”
“The last time I danced—”
I gasp. “Really, Santino! I’m not discussing this!”
“I always drank water or bottled beer. Carlos was there. He gave me . . .”
