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Her body jerked and flopped about, pleasure zinging through her like lightning. He pushed fingers into her, one at a time, until he had three stuffed in there and her limbs ached because she had them spread so fucking wide. The sounds they made: his deep groans, her wetness, and her own screams as she called out his name.
The intensity of it had tears flooding her eyes and she came with a shriek when he nipped her clit while tunneling those fingers into her. Then he pulled away only to return moments later, rising above her like a fierce motherfucker out to pillage, strap-on in place. She opened her arms and her legs, welcoming him in.
He took her mouth, tongue-fucking her until she gagged, clasping him close when he tried to shift away. Between them, his hand worked, nudging his cock to her entrance, sliding in easily since she was a sloppy mess down there.
Her eyes rolled back, legs lifting to the ceiling.
He groaned. “Fuck, Sera.” The way he quivered. “Love how you look stretched around me…”
The way he fucked her. Hard and fast then soft and slow. She melted around him, juices flowing like a goddamn river. He kissed her while his hips worked, hands swiping down her thighs then under, lifting her ass, canting her upward, balancing her onto her back, lower half off the bed as he shoved in and out.
She shuddered when he nuzzled her neck, teeth digging into her skin, then his head dipping so he could take her nipples into his mouth, sucking hard, paying each one equal attention. She writhed on him, breath lost to the second orgasm that ripped her apart and left her in pieces on that bed.
His breath stuttered and he gasped out her name, releasing her nipple to palm the back of her head and kiss her. Muscles bunched, his thrusts turned erratic. His grunts got louder and louder.
“Sera. Fuck.” He slammed forward. “Fuck.” His orgasm twisted his features and she watched his eyes squeeze shut and his jaw tighten. The muscles in his temple and throat jumped and his body spasmed over hers.
She swiped a hand down his spine, loving the way he undulated, breath leaving him in a rush before he collapsed and rolled to one side, getting rid of the strap then gathering her close so that they lay face-to-face. She nipped his shoulder, burying her face in his throat as she listened to his heartbeat.
There was nothing about their sex that didn’t fulfill her, though she hadn’t expected there to be. Even before he’d bared himself to her in that pool, from his first touch, she’d known them coming together would be fire-hot. He didn’t disappoint. Being with him was an adventure. She’d had her moments with lovers of the opposite sex, but it’d been about her trying to recover her freedom, trying to find herself.
Julián didn’t speak and she didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he started snoring. She grinned, smoothing a hand over his forehead, down his nose, tracing his lips with a finger. When her hand trembled, she attributed it to the aftermath of her orgasms and eased out from Toro’s hold, rolling out of bed.
Grabbing a robe, she hurried downstairs to get her phone from the purse she’d dropped when she first entered the house. Then she called her guy in charge of watching Reggie’s parents at the house.
“Yes, boss?”
“Release them.”
“Boss?”
She’d surprised him. Fuck, she surprised herself. But as she stood staring down at the table where the evidence of the candlelit dinner remained, she knew the decision was the right one. It might not last, this softness in her chest, the lightness, but for now— “Release them,” she repeated. “Make sure they get home safely. If a hair is out of place on either of their heads, I’m killing everybody, starting with you.” She hung up and cleared off the table. Leftovers went into the fridge, dirty dishes went into the dishwasher.
Then she went upstairs and crawled back into bed with Julián.
Her man for a little while longer.
20
Stavros didn’t makeToro wait long. He delivered on that favor Toro asked of him the very next day. Toro’s phone dinged with the message while he was still in bed, all wrapped up between Seraphina’s thighs. There’d been a shift in her when he’d opened his eyes that morning and he didn’t know what it was, but he didn’t question it.
Not when she made the first move. Not when she touched him as if she’d die if she didn’t get the chance.
But he had to crawl out of that bed eventually, and he did after round three. He grabbed a shower while she snored, her naked body barely covered up by the sheets. Halfway out the door, he turned back and covered her up properly because he’d be damned if he’d allow anyone else to see what belonged to him and him alone.
Then he left the bedroom.
The guards didn’t speak to him nor did they try to stop him when he walked out the front door and got into one of Sera’s vehicles, a silver G Wagon. Those motherfuckers knew better.
Less than two hours from Delaware to Philly. Seraphina had no clue how close she’d been the entire time. Maybe instinct had driven her, that bond he’d heard about between mother and child. She’d been searching for Israel and he was just a couple of hours away.
Another forty minutes after crossing into Philly border, and he pulled into a driveway. Gorgeous house. Manicured lawns. He took a moment after cutting off the engine to figure out what he would say. He didn’t know much about Israel Storm other than he was his mother’s son and the guy wanted nothing to do with Seraphina. Yet here Toro was, about to do something that could backfire spectacularly in a million different ways.
Nobody knew he’d come here, so if the notoriously bloodthirsty Israel decided to put a bullet in Toro’s head for showing up at his door unannounced, nobody would know. Well, maybe Stavros would since he’d been the one to give Toro the information he’d requested. But Toro wouldn’t even blame Israel if he resorted to violence without hearing what Toro had to say.
He peeked out at the house with a sigh. Israel lived with his lover and best friend, Stavros had shared with him. The same lover whose parents Seraphina had kidnapped. He hadn’t broached the subject of what she was gonna do with those people with her. It wasn’t his place.
And this, being here, is?
