A rush of heat settles inside my core. Probably best to keep our clothes intact since we still have to get back to the club.
He helps me peel the wet fabric over my head and then reaches around me to unclasp my bra. As soon as my breasts are bare, his hands turn greedy, his mouth hungry for my taste. He takes one nipple into his mouth and pulls on it with his teeth, before doing the same to the other. Electricity prickles all over my skin, and heat coils at the pit of my belly until I’m so desperate for more that I push him away and quickly pull off my underwear and shorts.
Damiano peers down at my naked form. “Fuck,” he rasps. “This body was made for me.”
Something flutters inside my chest. Why does it sound so right when he says things like that?
He lifts his eyes to meet mine, as if challenging me to protest. When I don’t, he gives me a reward.
His mouth between my legs.
I claw at the sand as he licks and sucks on my clit. How is he so good at this?
“Shit,” I pant. My vision’s blurs as the pressure between my legs builds and builds. He takes me by my thighs and hauls me onto his shoulders, as if I weight nothing. And then he looks up at me, his mouth still glued on my cunt.
Everything bursts and I cry out. No matter how I squirm, he won’t let go of me. When I start to come down, he fucks me with his tongue and the hazy pleasure of it all is unreal.
“Damiano,” I moan.
At last, he lowers me back to the ground and dips his fingers inside of me, curling them possessively. “I’ve never tasted a better pussy,” he says hoarsely.
I drag the back of my hand over my forehead. Jesus.
When he crawls on top of me, I slide my hand into his pants to find his hard cock. He squeezes his eyes shut when I begin to stroke him, then moans when I tighten my grip, but before I can experiment further, he barks, “Enough.”
He jerks my hand out of his pants, pins it above my head, and kisses my throat. “I’m going to come inside of you,” he says against my skin.
A shiver coasts down my spine when I realize it’s his way of asking for permission. I got my last birth control shot on the eve of my wedding, which means I’m still good for a month or so.
“Okay,” I breathe.
He makes a satisfied rumble in the back of his throat, lifts off me, and starts to take off his clothes.
When he’s fully nude, he kneels between my legs, his powerful body backlit by the moon. It’s a visual so striking, it should be captured by a painter, but the beach is completely empty except for us. I drag my fingertips over the defined muscles in his chest and abs and try to capture every detail in my memory.
He grips my chin and drapes his body over mine. The anticipation of what’s about to come makes my toes curl. His cock is pressed against my thigh, and I shift my hips and line him up with my entrance. This is the second time a man will be inside of me, and I already know it will be nothing like the first.
He pushes in with one smooth stroke and lets out a harsh breath. My eyes flutter closed at the sensation of being so utterly full. I dig my nails into his ass, and he begins to move, slowly at first, then faster and faster until it’s frantic and desperate. I can feel another orgasm building at the edges.
Suddenly, he pulls out, flips me over, and moves me until I’m on all fours, my ass up in the air. He grabs me by the hips, pushes into me again, and quickly finds a relentless rhythm. My arms shake as I struggle to hold myself up.
“This pussy was made for me too,” he growls from behind as he keeps thrusting into me. “And this pretty little ass.” His thumb brushes against the other hole. “Mine.”
I squirm, my breaths coming out in pants now as I get closer and closer to my peak. I’m wild with lust and leftover adrenaline and look over my shoulder to meet his gaze. “It’s all yours.”
His expression melts with satisfaction, and the sight of it finishes me off. I spasm around him, curling my fingers into the sand and falling down on my forearms. He moves his hands to my hips, pumps two more times, and explodes inside of me.
We fall to our sides, and he wraps his strong arms around me. The sky is lighter now. The sun will rise soon and erase the night.
After some time, he lifts me and takes me back into the water, rinsing the sand off my back and arms, and washing between my legs. I let him. I allow this illusion of being cared for by him to last a few moments longer.
“You will never put yourself in danger again,” he murmurs into my ear. “No one hurts what’s mine, not even you.”
We walk back to the club with sand all over our clothes. It feels weird to walk with his warm palm pressed against my back out in public, but there’s no one paying us any mind. At this hour, anyone we encounter on our walk is blissed out on drugs.
“I left my car keys in my office,” he says. “We’ll get them, and I’ll drive you home.”
The sun peeks over the horizon. Am I ready to get involved with someone like Damiano? He’s no mafioso, but I already know his offer of protection comes with expectations. He wants me to be his.
I like it when he tells me how much he desires me and how he’s going to use my body, because I know he’ll make sure I’ll enjoy it too. But what if he wants more than that? What if he wants to control me in the way Lazaro and Papà did?
No, normal men don’t think like that. They don’t try to bend people to their will until they’re on the verge of snapping. Damiano might think I’m his, but when he says those words, I know he says them as a promise, not a threat. He wants to take care of me. Is it really so bad to allow him to do exactly that?
What we have won’t last forever, but for now, maybe I can enjoy being his.
We stop by his office door, but he blocks me from going in. His brows furrow. “Someone’s inside. I left the door locked.”
It’s open, just a crack.
He puts me behind him. “Stay here. I’m going to check it first.”
Is Nelo and his gang waiting for him inside? Fear sparks inside my gut.
He disappears through the door, and I hear muffled voices for a minute or so before he comes back out.
“Who is it?” I ask.
In his gaze, I detect a hint of warmth. “It’s my sister. She was worried when she woke up and realized I hadn’t come home. She went looking for me. Do you want to meet her?”
“Um.” I’m entirely too aware of the fact that we just had sex on the beach and that his cum is still dripping out of me. Heat blankets my cheeks. I must look like a mess.
But I’m curious. The grown-up version of the little girl from that family photo is on the other side of the door. Damiano said they’re close, so it feels like a big deal he’s willing to introduce me to her.
“Okay,” I say.
“Come on.” He takes me by the hand and opens the door. “Martina, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he says as he steps inside the room with me on his heels. “This is Ale.” He moves aside to reveal someone perched on the edge of his desk.
My greeting comes to a sharp stop inside my throat. My lips part. Everything around me turns blank as my vision narrows on the girl.
The girl.
The one I saw curled up on the floor of my basement through the screen of an iPad.
Her eyes widen in recognition.
Reality feels like a house of cards that’s one breath away from crashing down.
She sucks in that breath.