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As I circle the island to get to the fridge, Tácito comes from the pantry, his arms filled with ingredients. I enter his sight line and wave.
“Give me a sec,” he says and drops everything on the counter.
I follow behind, curious to know what he intends to prepare. I wish I could cook half as well as him and Valentino. Then I could prepare dishes for them made with the same love and attention as when they cook for me. I’ll have to ask Valentino’s cook to teach me when she arrives tomorrow. Tonight is her night off and I already ate the leftovers from yesterday.
Tácito swings me into his arms and makes all my other thoughts inconsequential. He lowers his head until our lips brush. I open to him, not needing to be coaxed. As soon as our tongues touch, a lock inside me frees the tension I didn’t know I carried inside. I frame his face in my hands and take over the kiss, plunging my tongue into his mouth and greedily feeding on his moans.
His body relaxes into mine, giving me what I need without me asking for it. I’ve missed him. Last night, my argument and subsequent make up sex-fest with Valentino meant I hadn’t seen Tácito all day. Valentino knocked me out before carrying me to bed.
I push Tácito onto a barstool while he caresses the spot behind my ear. If his touch is meant to be innocent, I can’t tell. It doesn’t matter because he’s pushed my need for him to unmanageable levels. I pull at his pants until I free him then climb onto his lap.
He pulls away from my kiss. “Wait…someone might—”
“I don’t care. I need you now.” I slide my panties to the side and sink onto him. “Mmm, you feel so good.” I take his mouth again while I tunnel my fingers through the hair at his nape.
My need for him is so great, I can’t control my thrusts. This is no slow lovemaking. I fuck him fast and furious, chasing my orgasm with determined focus. I can’t get enough of him, doubt I ever will. The hesitance from months ago is laughable to me now. So is my insane idea that this thing between us needed a time limit.
Tácito grips my hips but doesn’t take over, ensuring I don’t tumble off him in my zeal. He follows my lead, pumping into me in response to my fevered thrusts.
I gasp into his mouth as Tácito hits a spot inside that causes my pussy to clench him tighter. As if reading my body’s responses like a book, he repeats the action and I fucking lose my mind. I squeal while squeezing my pussy muscles and winding my hips over his length.
My orgasm approaches fast, pummeling me over the precipice. I cry out and clutch Tácito tighter in my embrace as I come over him. I collapse onto him, and my beautiful, sweet Tácito strokes my back until I return to myself.
In my ear, he whispers, “This is one hell of a hello.”
I push away from his chest, secure he won’t let me fall. “I can do better.”
He frowns at me, but I shake my head. I was selfish in my need and have neglected his. He is still hard inside me.
I slip from his arms and take him in my mouth. “Mmm,” I moan at our mingled flavors. A Sloane-coated Tácito dick can satisfy any craving.
He rests a hand on my head, but lets me take my pleasure. Even in this act, I’m selfish. I want his cum and I won’t let him up until I get it. I twist my hands around him as I bob up and down his shaft.
“Sloane…” He twists his fingers in my hair and pumps into my mouth.
Soon, warm fluid coats my tongue and I double my efforts. My greed demands that I swallow every drop and drain him until he is too weak to walk. Once he’s spurted his last, I lick around his groin, his balls, everywhere to make certain I haven’t left a drop unclaimed.
Tácito groans, “You got it all. Give me a second to recover.”
I rise with a pout, ready to go back for more. I start to bend again, when he tucks himself inside his pants.
“I’m going to make dinner and feed you something with more nutrients. Something to give you energy since we have the rest of the night for everything else.”
“Fine,” I huff. “What can I do to help?”
He kisses me on the forehead then hands me a peeler and a potato. “Don’t butcher it too badly.”
Unable to argue with him, I get to work. He is more proficient than me in the kitchen. Whereas it takes me ten minutes to peel each spud, I swear Tácito does three jobs in the same timeframe. I shrug away the urge to compete. There’s no reason to; we have our individual strengths.
With deliberate movements, Tácito lays the knife and food he is preparing on the cutting board. “Do I take it you are in a good mood because things went well today? Or is your mood because things went well last night?” he breaks the companionable silence.
I take a few seconds to think over his question. “Both, I guess. I promised Valentino I wouldn’t ditch my protection anymore. Even if I thought I had good reasons.”
“Did you? Have a good reason?”
I shrug and look down at the piles of skin and potatoes in front of me. Without looking Tácito in the eye, I sign, “I thought I was protecting the two of you from getting hurt. I didn’t want my life choices touching you. I know now there are many ways to hurt you that don’t involve assassins targeting you.”
“I’m glad he got through to you. Does that mean you’ll stop hiding your worries from us?”
