“We were in a car.”
“But the streets were shadowed. The streetlights throw huge shadows. His car kept crossing the shadow of ours.” It was one thing to be able to feel their own shadows touching, but very difficult and specific to have car shadows touching and glean information.
“What did he feel like?” She hadn’t called him crazy, and her voice held sincerity as if she believed him and wanted to know more.
He rinsed her hair carefully before answering. “Malignant. He’s definitely angry. I didn’t get much of a sense of him other than that, but it was him. They were only glimpses, but I recognized that same feeling from the alley. When I first got there, I knew he was on the roof.”
She pressed one hand to her stomach briefly. “Maybe I did feel him. For me, it was dread. That’s what I felt in the alley.” She took the gel in both hands and began to soap his body.
It didn’t take much for his cock to come to attention. She just had to give him a smoldering look and there it was. “He left behind the bomb, which means we’ve got men tracking down where everything was purchased and how.”
“You still aren’t going to the police.”
He gave her a look. “It’s a family matter.” He waited for a protest.
“What time did you come to bed? I thought you’d wake me.”
Her voice slipped over him like a caress. Like her fingers. He’d wanted to wake her. He’d even been perverted enough to pull back the covers and look at her. She slept naked. He couldn’t blame her, she didn’t have much in the way of clothes. She probably didn’t want to take the chance that he might rip off something sexy—which he would have done this morning.
He’d wanted her to get some rest. She’d had a rough few days, and he still had to convince her to accept him. He wanted to put a ring on her finger. He’d told them at the Hendrick Center that he was her fiancé because he had to be family in order for them to tell him anything or deal with him in any way. It didn’t matter, he felt like her fiancé. He knew he was going to marry her.
Her hands were on his cock now, sliding over his shaft, squeezing and pumping until he was full and hard again. She rinsed him off and had him turn around. He put one hand on the wall and let her take care of cleaning him. She soaped him, then rinsed him off. Her lips wandered over his back, exploring like her hands had done.
“I love your mouth,” he said. “I dream about your mouth and what you do to me with it. You shouldn’t have put that in my head.”
“I like doing things to you with my mouth,” she admitted and promptly bit him in the butt. “Especially when you’re asleep. You wake up so beautifully.”
He laughed and swung around, turning off the water so he could step out and hand her a towel. She wrapped her hair in it and took another one from his hands.
Beads of water rolling off both of them, he caught her up, slung her over his shoulder and ran barefoot back to the bedroom. Dumping her on the bed, he yanked her legs apart, pulling her right to the very edge so her bottom was hanging off and held in his hands. He knelt there and put his mouth to her. He felt like he’d been waiting forever to have her like this. At his mercy, unable to move unless he allowed it. He didn’t plan to allow it for a very long time.
The moment his mouth touched her body, she cried out, squirming, pushing into him, not away. He smiled because he couldn’t help it. There was so much joy in her. So much life. It didn’t seem to matter what waited for her when she was alone, she lived every single second. She was in the precise moment.
He took his time, refusing to allow her to hurry him. He used his tongue first, licking and then sucking, savoring her flavor. He’d known she’d be perfection. “I could exist on this alone. Feed on you three times a day and be satisfied.”
She bucked against his mouth, and he swatted her bottom. “This is for me. You had your fun this morning and I owe you payment.”
“If you owe me payment, you dolt, you’re supposed to pay me the way I want it paid.”
“You didn’t negotiate that,” he pointed out and went back to his slow enjoyment. He wanted to build the burn slowly. He wanted her heat smoldering. He was ruthless with her, licking, stabbing with his tongue, circling her clit, flicking it hard and then ignoring that taut little bud altogether. He fucked her with his tongue and then his fingers, never letting her get off. He brought her to the brink repeatedly only to back her off, his teeth nipping the insides of her thighs.
She was sobbing his name, her fists clenched in his hair when he lifted his head. “What is it, baby? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“Take me over,” Sasha said.
“Mmm. That’s not what I want to hear.” He went back to that hot little meal that was all his. He devoured her, made growling noises, driving her even higher, getting her right to the edge and then he pulled back.
“What do you want to hear, you maniac? Giovanni. You’re torturing me.”
“Pleasure, baby, it’s called pleasure. I’m loving this. You taste so good.” He wiped his face on her thighs. “You want a taste?” Deliberately, he half rose to lean over her, licking his way up her belly to the underside of her breasts. All the while he pressed his body tightly against hers so she rubbed her clit on him, desperate to get off. He kept moving up her body, allowed himself to be distracted by her breasts and spent some time there, enjoying the way she squirmed and mewled.
Giovanni pushed her a little more, making certain she enjoyed the things he was doing to her body. His teeth teased her nipple, biting down, while one hand squeezed her breast, clamping tighter, tugging, pulling, while she arched and cried out. Her hips bucked against him, and he kissed her throat and then took her mouth, giving her a taste of cinnamon candy apple.
His hand went to her sex, pressing on her clit, pinching until she nearly came, but he pulled away. “Do you like the way you taste?”
She nodded and slid a hand down her body toward the junction of her legs. He pulled back, flipped her onto her stomach, dragged her once more until she was bending over the bed and spanked her—three smacks on each cheek. He kicked her legs apart. “You want something, baby? It’s mine to give, not yours to take.”
She cried out, her body bucking, hot liquid spilling out of her.
“What the fuck, woman? Don’t you have any control? I thought I just said this is my orgasm, not yours.”
“That’s not my fault. You’re deliberately making it impossible to stop.” There was excitement in her breathless voice.
“I guess I could spank you until you have an orgasm, but it isn’t what I have in mind.”
“Do something. Anything. Eat me. Spank me. Fuck me. Anything at all. Just do something.” There was desperation in her voice.
“It’s in your hands, baby. You know what you have to do.”
“Just remember this when I’ve got your cock in my mouth,” she warned, her voice muffled by the sheets. “Giovanni, you bastard, will you please fuck me hard until I come? I need it very, very badly. Please?”
“Aren’t you going to ask my permission to come?” He used his finger, pushing into her, retreating, pushed in two. He flicked her clit hard and felt her body tighten around his fingers. He couldn’t help smiling when he swore she ground her teeth. Playing. Teasing. He’d never had those experiences and he loved that she was willing to play with him. “I’m not asking you to call me master, that might come later.”