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“Oh my,” I breathed at how far he went with the new angle.
He pumped into me, hard and fast, his eyes locked with mine as he watched the orgasm build in me.
“I think I’m gonna come,” I whimpered.
“Come for me,” he urged me. “Now, mia dolce.”
He dropped my leg off his shoulder, and I wrapped it around his waist as he continued to hammer into me. My fingers dug into his butt while I lifted my hips to meet him thrust for thrust. And then I flew over the edge again, clenching against his cock and taking him with me.
“Wow, that was amazing,” I whispered when my heart stopped pounding like crazy and I could speak again.
“You’re amazing,” he murmured in my ear, rolling onto his back and cradling me against his chest.
We lay there together, bodies entwined while we whispered to each other before he drew me a bath. He carried me into the bathroom, easing me into the water, insisting I needed it to soothe any aches away. When my bath was done, I could barely stand on my own, falling asleep as soon as my head hit his pillow. I woke up a couple of hours later, reaching an arm out for Nic, but found the bed empty next to me. Lifting up on an elbow, I found a note on his pillow telling me he’d been called away for a work emergency. It was the middle of the night, his sheets were stained with the proof of the virginity he’d taken from me, and he’d been forced to leave me there alone. He’d seemed more tense lately, stressed about something at work. It must be really bad if it pulled him from his bed at a time like this. I only wished he was willing to share some of the burden with me.
EIGHT
Nic
“What the fuck?” I shouted as I slammed the door to the warehouse shut. “Someone had better be fucking dying to drag me away from my woman at three in the morning.”
“Well then, I guess I better fucking die, shouldn’t I?”
My head whipped to the side as two of my men dragged Brandon in through another door. He was leaning heavily on one as he limped forward, blood pouring from a wound in his thigh. I ran over and replaced one of the men, yelling at them to call for a doctor.
We took him to a back room kept for the overnight guards and laid him on an old twin sized bed.
“What the hell happened?” I demanded, grabbing a knife and cutting away at Brandon’s pant leg to assess the damage. Seeing it was just a graze on his upper thigh, I sent up a prayer of thanks
Brandon sighed, but when he didn’t speak right away, I looked up to find his expression the strangest mixture of embarrassment and rage, it was almost comical. He glared at the ceiling as he grit out, “Carly shot me.”
Shock almost knocked me on my ass. No fucking way. “Carly betrayed us?” I croaked.
Bandon’s expression got even blacker. “No, she shot me because I insinuated she might have.”
I shook my head a little, still confused. “Brandon, you pulled me out of a warm bed with the woman of my fucking dreams, so you could tell me you got shot for being an asshole?”
“No, motherfucker,” Brandon growled, “That’s why they”—he pointed at Freddy and Enzo—“called you. I called you because, while Carly was threatening to shoot me for being an asshole, the trigger only went off because someone shot at us first.”
Dread filled me. “What happened?”
“She ran away from me. And let me tell you, when I get my hands on her, I’m going to take her over my knee and spank her ass.” Brandon’s fist slammed against the wall as he finished.
“Bran!” I yelled, “Focus. What the fuck is going on? Who shot at Carly?”
“I don’t think they were aiming for her.” This was said by Freddy as he opened the door for another man to come inside the small room. The older, balding, portly man was a doctor who I’d known since I was a kid. Doc had been friends with my father, and he was the one we called for injuries if a hospital could be avoided.
“Move over, boy. Let’s see what this one is whining about.”
I stood to let him by, watching Brandon grumble at Doc for a second before turning a serious gaze on me.
“I was with Carly—don’t”—he held up a hand, clearly seeing my intention to question—“we don’t have time for that right now.” I raised a brow but let him continue. “Freddy and Enzo got to us just in time to see that little fucker Darby running off.”
“Would you stop wiggling, boy?” Doc snapped. “You need stitches and I’d rather not sew up your balls instead of the wound.” Doc smirked. “Though those may be pretty well shriveled and out of my way. Hear you got yourself shot by a little lady.”
