A shaky breath expelled from my lungs at the ferocity of his thrusts. It was hard and desperate, livid and possessive all at the same time. Still, my nails dug into his back, always stunned by my body’s reaction to him. The slick arousal coating my thighs, the way my nipples ached to have his mouth on them, the way my pussy ached just before his cock slid in and most importantly, the way my heart settled when he was in my arms.
His hands were everywhere, caressing, pinching, gripping, as his cock moved in and out of me, claiming my pussy with soul-destroying thrusts while his tongue and teeth bit, sucked and licked my chin, my neck, my jaw, marking me.
When he buried his face in the crook of my neck and his mouth close around my pulse point, sucking hard, I fell apart. A hot orgasm burned through me, and I clenched around his cock, grinding my clit against his pelvis as I held him against me.
“Fuck, little fox, you break for me so beautifully,” he grunted against my throat and kept fucking me through my orgasm.
I was still shuddering from my high, when he moved up to straddle my chest.
“Open for me, baby.” The endearment took me by surprise, but I was quickly distracted with the way he gripped his cocked, pumped it a few times and aimed it my mouth.
Our eyes locked, his expression unbridled lust and mine, unmatched love, his hot cum soaked my tongue and then rolled down my throat, thick, heavy and sweetly salty. When he was done, he leaned down and claimed my mouth in kiss that was uncontested possession for the both of us.
I had no idea how I’d drifted off to sleep but I opened my eyes to Remo, with just his pants on, pouring wine into two glasses.
Smirk in place, he offered me one. “Had a good sleep?”
“How long?” I yawned.
“Give or take forty-five minutes.” He sipped his wine, still holding my glass.
“That’s all.” I stretched, sat up and reached for my dress.
“Leave it off,” he ordered, his gaze running the length of my body.
I arched a brow. “Then take it off.” I tipped my chin at his pants.
He threw his head back in laugh, the sound pleasant coming from a man like him. At the shake of his head, I stood and raced to edge of embankment and jumped into the surprisingly warm water. I surfaced to find Remo heading my way. Glorious in his naked beauty, he prowled to the edge. The water wasn’t deep, reaching my neck where I stood, watching his lithe form dive in. Not waiting for him, I waded toward a grouping of rocks that formed bench seating beneath the water.
Taking a seat, I leaned back on my hands, tipped my face to the sky and closed my eyes as I heard Remo come up beside me. “God, it’s so beautiful here,” I murmured. “I could stay here forever.”
“Escapism is temporary, little fox unless you want to be a hermit.”
I opened my eyes to look at him. Seated next to me, he was also leaning back on his hands with his head tilted back and eyes closed. “Obviously.” I sighed. “Was there no other outcome for the man you killed?” I asked, wanting him to talk more about him.
“If I let one betrayal slide, ten more follow and then the whole house falls apart. You don’t survive long in this life by looking the other way.”
“Where you born into a mafia family?”
“Yes.”
I waited for an elaboration, nothing came. “What was it like, growing up in a mafia household.”
He didn’t immediately answer and when he did, it accompanied a scowl, his eyes finding mine. “My father was a bastard and my mother a bitch, difference was my father’s heart held some emotion while hers was pure stone.”
I gaped at him, unsure if I’d heard correctly. “What do you mean?”
“Father was tough, strict, downright evil at times. For some reason he treated me differently to my brothers and expected more. As the youngest, I was scared shitless of the man until mother took his power and only then, did I understand the meaning of true fear.”
“Someone actually frightened you?” I asked, my voice soft, not teasing but understanding.
He remained silent for a moment, his gaze drifting before they found mine again. “Tough men are dangerous but weak boys–” he paused, his jaw clenched as if fighting hidden demons. “Become lethal when compelled by fear.”
Something in his tone told me he’d had a rough upbringing and perhaps it was responsible for the man he’d grown into. A strange tightness squeezed my chest, suddenly scared for the little Remo I didn’t know.
“Was there ever a day that you laughed freely, been happy, not ready to kill someone?”
He turned his head to look at me, his usual blank expression in place before he looked up at the sky again. “There were a few,” he murmured, almost like he was speaking to himself.
