“Do you feel the need to make fun of me?” I countered.
“Who said I was making fun. You should register your legs as weapons.”
I massaged his chest with just the tips of my fingers, offering a sly look while even daring to draw a line across my bottom lip. “I’ll keep that in mind. Oh, wait. Maybe you should the next time you try and kidnap me.”
“You call this kidnapping?” His voice was far too husky, drawing me into a sweet moment of longing that my priest would shame me for.
“Yes, I do. I should contact the police.” Slinking down, when I pressed my lips against his chest, he slowly lifted his head toward the ceiling.
“Go right ahead. The police chief is a personal friend of ours.”
“Ah, the big, bad mafia dudes own half the town?” I darted my tongue around his bellybutton, marveling in the salty taste of his skin.
“You bet. But I’m certain you understand the necessity.”
“Why?” I pinched the nub of his nipple and he chuckled, lowering his head.
“You’ll need to tell me, princess.”
“Only if you’re a very good boy.”
With a single dart of my tongue across my bottom lip, I placed both hands on his chest. The man was built like no other human I’d come into contact with. While the jacket had done a good job of hiding his attributes, the shirt had done little. But without the material resting on his golden skin, I was able to marvel in his sculpted abdomen.
I’d heard the term six-pack and a few male dancers had come close, but the carved physique of the man standing in front of me was entirely different. With my eyes locked on his, I slowly eased the material over his shoulders. The way he held his arms allowed the shirt to fall ever so slowly down his forearms while I trailed behind with my fingers.
Just being able to touch his skin, tracing the intricate ink managed to take my breath away. When I rolled the tip of my pinky across the spectacular blushing pink rose, he stiffened slightly.
That one was personal.
As the shirt floated to the floor, I rubbed all ten fingertips down his chest, daring to throw him several sultry looks while touching his belt buckle.
“Are you certain you’re ready for more?”
“I can handle more than you realize. But I’ll be able to do much more if you’ll untie me.”
“Not a chance. I like seeing you all tied up.”
“Such a bastard.”
He was amused with my reaction, planting both hands on the wall by my head as I caressed his heated skin.
I took my time, enjoying the touch almost as much as the pleasure he’d given me. When I touched his belt again, he didn’t try to stop me, but the look in his eye was more intense. I had the distinct feeling he was searching for answers even now. Whatever the issue with the Russo Cosa Nostra was, it was about much more than the drugs. As bad as what he’d described the situation had been.
With the buckle unfastened, I struggled a bit to unfasten and unzip his trousers, finally managing to do so. I should have guessed he was a briefs man. Black in color.
Like all bad boys wore.
When I finally freed his cock, I was almost grateful I was required to hold him with two hands. He was huge, the veins on both sides throbbing. With his cockhead glistening, I wasn’t paying attention that I was licking my lips from sheer appreciation of his size until he lifted my chin, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.
There was nothing quite as sinfully joyful as being able to see every inch of his muscular body.
“Do you like what you see?”
“What’s not to like? But you should remove your trousers. They’re in the way.”
He narrowed his eyes, grinning as he’d done so many times before. As hard and unapologetic as he could be, he was entirely playful in moments of passion.
“Now, who should be a good little girl if she wants her request granted?”
