I wound my arms tighter around her waist. “No one touches you.”
Amalia placed a hand over mine. “We can’t always control or prevent what happens.” She leaned her head against my shoulder. “If anything, I’m terrified of what can happen to you in the name of revenge against me.”
“I’m impossible to kill. You’ve seen that firsthand,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“The last man who said that to me ended up with my pistol in his mouth and his brain as new wall decor.”
My dick pulsed at her back. “Is that supposed to scare me, vicious? Because I’m strangely turned on.”
Amalia shook her head. “You’re gross.”
I slipped my hand between her thighs, two fingers over her clit. “Maybe. Filthy? Always.”
“My pussy is so fucking sore, Kai. I don’t think I can…” Her voice was ragged, a moan slipping past her lips as I stroked her.
“Look at you, baby. You’re already a mess, and it’s all for me.” I brought my fingers to my mouth and licked them clean as she watched. “Goddamn,mi reina, so sweet.” Instead of mine, this time, I brought two fingers to her mouth, and she eagerlyopened for me. “Just like that. See how good you taste.” I pushed my fingers deeper until I heard her gag, and it was fucking music to my ears. “You know what my new goal in life is?” I asked while pinching her clit with my other hand.
She moaned, shaking her head and rocking her hips as the paintbrush and palette dropped to the floor by my feet.
“My one goal in life is to make sure you break for meeveryday.” She gagged again, and I could feel the tears sliding down her cheeks. “Every fucking day, I need to feel you this goddamn wet. And hear you sing for me, just like that.”
She arched her back and lay her head on my shoulder, hips moving at a steady rhythm. Another gag as I pushed deeper down her throat. “Use me, vicious. Show me how you want me to fuck you.”
Her hands were in my hair, tangled tightly the faster she climbed to orgasm.
“You always paint in the nude?” I asked, eyes on the tempting sight of her tits bouncing up and down, making my mouth water.
It wasn’t long before she was shuddering in my arms, her cries muffled by the fingers in her mouth. Amalia slid off my lap, and just when I thought she needed a break…and a breather, I was wrong.
She looked up at me through wet lashes, knelt between my thighs, and grinned as she undid my belt and zipper. “I haven’t had breakfast today either and, wouldn’t you know, your pretty cock was exactly what I was craving.”
32
“Fuck.”
Gloria had taken a hit to the fuel tank. We’d had her towed from Amalia’s condo two days ago, and I hadn’t had the stomach to look at the damage until now. But I’d take a totaled bike in exchange for Amalia’s safety any day.
Wiping the sweat from my brow with the shirt I’d torn off ten minutes ago, I reached for my bottle of water, but instead of drinking, I poured the damn thing over my head. The Texan sun would take some time to get used to. It was a world away from Philly’s four seasons, but I’d go anywhere she was. Hot, cold—it didn’t matter, because when I thought of my wife, only one word came to mind.
Home.
“Milly tells me you’ve been out here for quite some time.” Amalia’s father’s footsteps stopped just behind me. “You know, we have people who do this. All you have to do is say the word,” he offered, regarding a freshly hand-washed Hellcat sitting in the drive.
“And miss the opportunity to admire that work of art?” I said, straightening and drying off my face. It wasn’t just the car. Doing these small things for her filled me with a sense of pride and purpose—anything to make her smile.
“You seem the type to have had your hands on a number of specialty vehicles…and yet you choose this”—he motioned toward my bike—“as your main means of transportation.”
“It’s fast and perfect for a quick getaway, if need be, and it’s a hell of a lot of fun.”
“I heard,” he said, eyes dropping to the bandage at my side. “Dr. Ward said he took care of that for you.”
Amalia had ultimately convinced me to get treated by her doctor friend—it wasn’t my choice, but when a goddess is on her knees, my cum sliding down her throat, she could have very well asked me to jump out the goddamn window, and I would have obliged with a smile.
“Yeah, it’s nothing serious.”
“Thank you,” he said, a hand on my arm. “I always worry about her. And there are many days, if not most, I regret ever getting her involved in this life.”
“So why did you?”
