She’s begging me to let her come by the time I give in. And she really does fucking explode. I lick and suck at her, groaning like a goddamn savage as she comes all over my tongue. So. Fucking. Hot. She buries her hands in my hair and grinds up against me, her body shaking, falling apart as she climaxes.
I have absolutely no self-control after that. As soon as the tension falls out of her body, her muscles sinking heavy into the mattress, I grab hold of her hips and spin her over, throwing her onto her front and then lifting her hips so that her ass is in the air. “We’re not done yet, angry girl.” I lay my hand against her skin, making a sharp cracking sound as my palm connects with the soft curve of her ass.
“Fuck!” she gasps out, instinctively grabbing hold of the bed sheets, like she knows how hard I’m about to fuck her. Like she knows she’s about to be seeing stars. I lose the boxers, and then there’s nothing between me and my angry girl. I trace my cock from her clit upward, gauging her reaction, seeing where she wants me to stop…where she wants me the most. I don’t even make it to her ass. She’s pushing back against me, panting hard as I tease the tip of my dick against the opening of her pussy.
“You want me, Sloane? How bad do you want me inside you right now?”
“Fuck. Please. Please… please… I need you,” she moans.
I could wait, I could play with her some more, but my balls feel like they’re going to burst. I slam myself home, not holding back, fire singing through my veins as Sloane screams out my name.
My fingers dig into her hips as I pull her back against me. She doesn’t resist. She moves with me, sighing and melting against me as I thrust so hard I’m seeing stars myself. When we come, we come together, and we’re both incoherent.
Just. Too. Good.
We collapse together onto the bed as one, me still inside her, my body angled slightly to the side to keep my weight off her. When we’ve both regained our breath, I begin tracing my fingers absentmindedly up and down her side. Her skin is soft as silk. “You bought weird fruit,” I whisper into her hair.
She laughs, and the feel of it travels through her and into me, spreading some deep, strange contentment down into my bones. This woman is going to be the end of me. “Yeah, well, I need vitamins so I can get better. But I also did it for you,” she says.
“Oh? How d’you figure that?”
“They say…” She seems bemused. “They say that if you eat lots of pineapple, it makes you taste good.”
The irony of what she’s said hits me full on, given that I’ve just used a piece of it between her legs. I bite down lightly on her shoulder, growling. “You don’t need to eat anything to taste good, Sloane. I’m addicted to how you taste, just as you are.”
She laughs. “Well, since you spend about ninety percent of your day with your head between my legs, I just wanted to make sure you enjo—” The sound of my burner ringing on the bedside table cuts her off. We both just look at it. Before earlier this morning when the Barbieri brothers called me, the thing hasn’t rung in…in fucking forever. Since shit went down with my ex-employer and everything changed. And now it’s ringing again? Bets are on it being Theo again. I do not want to talk to him. I don’t want to talk to anyone who might be asking me to beat the everloving shit out of anyone, or worse. It’s not as though I’ve gone soft. I’ll still tear anyone limb from limb should the situation require it, but it’s more on an as needed basis. For protection and defense as opposed to for money.
Sloane presses her face into the pillow, and a muffled, “You’d better get that,” reaches my ears. I do answer, but only because the people who are likely to call my burner aren’t the kind of people who give up after calling once.
When I hear the voice on the other end of the line, I find that the Barbieri situation has been escalated up the ranks. Typical. First Lowell’s trying to ruin my fucking day, and now more of this shit. “Zeth,” Roberto Barbieri, the Barber of Brooklyn himself, says. “I hear you didn’t much like talking to my sons?”
“I’m more of an email kind of guy these days.”
“Good to know. I’ll make sure to forward you the details of our arrangement in a message once our conversation is over, then. Does that suit you?”
“And what arrangement might that be? I already told Theo, I’m not working for anyone else anymore.” I don’t like this guy’s tone of voice. I sure as fuck don’t like how he’s ruining my post-orgasm glow. Sloane’s watching me with wide eyes, clearly able to hear what’s being said. There’s a time not too long ago when I would have left the room, but not anymore. I don’t hide anything from her these days. She knows all about the fights, the underground gambling and the occasional gun deal that goes down at the fighting gym I run. She knows me, knows who I am, and knows I will never live on the straight and narrow like other, normal people. She can handle fights and dirty money so long as I’m not getting hurt. And she can handle the guns so long as I don’t get my ass shot.