Twisted Loyalties (The Camorra Chronicles 1) - Page 64

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. My nipples rubbed against his dress shirt and a sweet tingle built in my belly. “You shouldn’t.” His voice was rough and deep. His hands came down on my hips, then one of them began its slow ascend until he cupped my breast. The cold of my surroundings became a distant memory as he tugged at my nipple, rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. I could feel myself growing wet from his touch within seconds. Slowly his other hand slid down from my waist to my butt. He cupped my cheek and squeezed, then moved lower, to the back of my upper thigh before he slid his fingers between my legs. His fingertips brushed over me and I released a long shuddering breath. In the dim light I caught sight of his erection straining against his pants.

What was I doing?

Whenever I’d lied awake at night, listening to my mother with her customers, I’d imagined my future with a straight-laced husband. A man who worked nine-to-five, a man who was safe and boring, and here I was with Fabiano, a man who was anything but. He didn’t fit with the future I imagined, didn’t fit into the life I’d so carefully planned out for myself.

But who ever said he’d be a part of my future? He definitely had never given any indication that he wanted a forever, that he even wanted a relationship. And what was it I wanted? I wasn’t sure anymore. And as his fingers worked my heated flesh and I clung to him, I decided to let go of my worries for now. My body surrendered to the feelings coiling in the pit of my stomach and I gasped as his fingers stroked me. It was exhilarating. Alive. I felt alive. He moved faster, and I cried out, my head falling back as currents of pleasure shot through me.

The sky above us was infinite, filled with possibilities and hope. Foolish hope.

Oh God. I was falling for him.

I pressed my forehead against Fabiano’s shoulder, trying to catch my breath. He took my hand and rested it against the bulge in his pants. “That’s what you do to me, Leona,” he growled.

Was that all I did to him?

A mix of triumph and need filled me. Need for more than what his body could give, but I reached for his zipper and pulled it down. Settle for what you can get, Leona.

My fingers halted before their next move. I raised my eyes to his, and there was a flicker of the same need. Did he feel it too? Fabiano rose from the hood, breaking the moment, and freed his erection from his pants. His eyes made me shiver, cold and hungry. “I want you on your knees, Leona. I want my cock in your mouth.”

I froze, my defenses shooting up. Another moment ruined. He was so damn good at it.

Me on my knees? That was something I’d sworn I’d never do. Not with anyone. My mother’s johns had always wanted her mouth on them, had felt powerful when she’d knelt before them, had enjoyed degrading her like that. Sometimes when she was high, she’d told me about it, about her revulsion, about the disgusting taste, about choking because they fucked her mouth without mercy. I’d never allow that to happen to me. Least of all like this. I wasn’t sure what Fabiano saw in me, if he cared for me, or if him wanting to be in my mouth was his way of possessing me a bit more.

I took a step back, shaking my head. “No,” I said. Fabiano’s eyes flashed, but I had no chance reading the emotion.

“I’m not your whore, Fabiano. I don’t like you ordering me around.”

He smiled darkly. “That wasn’t an order, Leona. Believe me, it sounds very different when I give an order.”

Dangerous. That was what he was. Sometimes I caught glimpses of it beneath his mask, and I always tried to forget.

“And I don’t like you teasing me. You keep flirting with me, letting me touch you, and you think I won’t want more? Even a normal guy would want to get in your pants, and I’m a fucking killer. And you expect me to sit back and wait patiently for you to make your head up.”

A killer. He’d never admitted to it. I’d never asked him, because deep down I’d preferred not to know, and even still the concept of him ending someone’s life was too abstract to grasp. It seemed like something distant, something not out of this world.

A sharp comment died on my lips when I caught the hint of wariness in Fabiano’s eyes. He was wary of me, thought I was playing with him, perhaps using him like the other women who’d always only seen his power and the possibilities it meant for them. Fabiano and I had a hard time trusting others.

Tags: Cora Reilly The Camorra Chronicles Romance
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