“Stop sampling your meal,” I say before crashing my lips into his, “and devour me.”
No kiss before has been like this, and I’m not sure any kiss after could compare. Our tongues tangle, mixing the subtle tastes of our last meal and combining them with his natural flavor. A tear slips from my eye as he places his hand over my heart and somehow manages to deepen the already dizzying kiss. His thumb traces the line of an old scar from a bullet that almost did me in, and a tear of his own falls to join mine.
“How many times have you almost died because of me?” he mutters against my lips.
“Technically only one,” I reply, cupping his cheeks in my hands, “because aside from the one time you shot me, it’s always been someone else’s fault.” It’s my intent to comfort him, but Matt’s hips stutter for a second before regaining their rhythm.
“It’s okay, Matt. We were on opposite sides then, which was entirely my fault. I don’t blame you.”
“I do.”
For a moment, it seems like this might be the end of it. Matt halts in his tracks, then backs away. My hands shoot out, grabbing his hips and pulling him back into me.
“Uh-uh. Finish what you started.”
Matt’s pupils dilate, and he licks his lips. “Are you sure?”
I grind my hips against his in response. “I’ve never been more certain of anything. Now move.”
And move he does. He humps and thrusts and grinds and twists and bites my lip, all while I whimper and moan as my orgasm rushes to the surface. I come all over my chest and stomach, and Matt smears the mess even more when he leans close to kiss me.
With one final thrust so rough my head collides with the headboard, Matt comes inside me and sighs.
He pulls out and rolls over, panting.
“Shower?” I ask, rolling the other way to get up.
“Maybe later,” he says, opting instead to clean himself with some tissues from the nightstand. “I’ll change the sheets while you’re in there.”
We don’t really discuss it further for the rest of the night, but from our shared sleeplessness, I suspect we’re retiring first thing in the morning.
Chapter 16
Matt
Since neither of us slept much, we get dressed early, before the sun rises. We even have time for one last meal before our meeting with Yancy at dawn.
By Syndicate protocol, we should meet with all of our top officers, but I figured one man can kill us just as easily as twenty, and it would be less of a mess for the cleaners afterwards. While Yancy gets seated, Aron dismisses all three guards. Yancy’s brows rise, but he doesn’t comment on the unusual nature of the order.
Normally, even when it’s only Syndicate members in the room, the guards remain in case of infighting. We don’t anticipate any of that today, and if Yancy chooses death over banishment, I don’t want some poor, well-meaning, loyal guard to get killed when our sentence is carried out.
“Do you know why we’ve called you here this morning?” Yancy shakes his head, and I continue. “Well, Yancy, Aron and I have come to the conclusion that it’s time for a change of leadership here in the Royal Syndicate.” I pause, waiting to see his reaction.
“But … Don Matteo …” He stops, and I watch the realization cross his usually stoic face. “Sorry. Matteo—”
“Matt is fine,” I say. “I’d rather reserve formalities for matters of church and state. This is … a private affair.”
Yancy nods. “I see. And I’d wager you want this kept quiet, Matt?”
“Relatively.”
“Indeed.” He rubs his chin pensively. “One don can disappear easily enough, especially after last night’s events, but two? That might be more difficult to sell.”
Aron leans forward. “I’m sure the new don could find some plausible way to spin it.”
Our successor huffs out a startled sigh and sits back in his seat. “I’m honored, but are you two absolutely certain? While I’m not as set in the old ways as Tito was, there are those in the Syndicate who might take it upon themselves to enforce Tito’s rules. I can’t guarantee protection from them.”
“We don’t expect you to. We understand that we’ll be on our own.”
