Unabashedly.
Licking the seam of it, tasting her, teasing her, before sucking on her clit and making her jerk under him.
Then he was running his tongue over her, wanting her to climax, pushing his fingers in until she was full and thrusting her hips against his hand. Making her come once.
Twice.
Three times, her fingers tight in his hair, her legs quivering.
Four times until she was sweaty and breathless, no longer quiet because after coming the first few times, she was sensitive, but she still let him, like she had when they were younger.
Just their secret.
No one needed to know, and with her it was okay.
The two of them could be as kinky as they wanted; they could stay naked and fuck until they were both sore and tired.
Brianna’s pale skin was flushed. Her hand fell out of his hair. She was biting her lip and alternating between jerking away from the feel of his tongue against her and pushing her hips closer.
“I can’t,” she panted before she bit her lip again, and her head lolled to the side.
She fisted the sheets when he arched two fingers up, rubbing against the soft spot inside her, making her moan almost against her will, as if this was a strange form of torture. If this had been another man doing it, maybe it would be, but this was Tino forcing her to come until her strong body was weak from the pleasure. He loved her unconditionally, and she obviously knew it.
“Oh God, one more. Just one more.” Then she clenched around his fingers, fighting for another orgasm, only because she knew he needed to hear it. “I can’t.”
But somehow she did a few minutes later, bowing under him and crying out, as if the ecstasy was coming from somewhere deeper than before. Her thighs shook, and her clit pulsed against his tongue before she fell totally weak beneath him.
Eyes closed.
Strung out on the endorphins.
Tits swaying with short, sharp breaths as she tried to gain her composure.
Why did he like her like this, completely spent and weak to him? He had absolutely no idea, but he surged over her anyway, sucking on her neck, licking at the bruises that motherfucker put on his goddess.
His fucking Madonna.
That was un-fucking-acceptable.
He wasn’t just gonna kill that motherfucker; he was going to hurt him first.
Chuito style.
Ending him was the first order of business on Tino’s hit-man to-do list that had become impressively long in a short period of time.
“Turn over, baby,” he whispered in her ear instead of confessing to plotting ways to make her a widow sooner rather than later. “Give it to me. Just once.”
Brianna rolled over rather than call him on the fact that it was never just once. She spread her legs, opening to him willingly, letting him force her against the mattress and fist her hair.
He pushed in, feeling all the smooth, tight heat of her * clench around him as she gasped and arched into him. “Fuck.” He groaned and tugged her head back. Then he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I love you. Please remember that, okay?”
“I know.” She reached back to run a hand down his bare thigh soothingly. “I know, baby. It’s okay. It’s good.” She moaned when he pushed in deeper. Her thighs were still shaking, but she reminded both of them. “I’m strong, remember?”
He did remember.
So he fucked the hell out of her.
Hard.
Angry.
Pulling her hair and clutching at her hips so hard he was probably leaving her with more bruises.
It wasn’t fair to take out a lifetime of fury on her.
But it had just been so long, and he hadn’t had an outlet. Hadn’t known how to ask. Had never found someone who gave a shit. Who wondered why he took four showers a day. Even his brothers ignored the issue. One out of ignorance. The other out of guilt.
But Brianna had never ignored it.
Had never let him lie and charm his way past her.
Instead she faced him head-on, offering herself to him, body and soul, and all she got for it was the unabashed worship of a man whose love earned her a price on her head.
Brianna cried out when the climax slammed into her, and the sound of it was enough to jerk him down with her. For one beautiful moment, all the pain, all the self-hatred hazed white around him, and there was just Brianna. The two of them lying there quivering in the silence as the pleasure raged.
It took a while for it to pass for both of them, but when it did, it pulled Tino back to reality a little too fast. It had been a long time since he dealt with this particular type of regret. When the high faded and he realized what he had sacrificed for the escape.
Because drugs hadn’t been his only addiction.
Tino rolled off her. As breathless as Brianna, weak in the aftermath, feeling shaky and disoriented and fucking guilty as hell as he threw his arm over his eyes.