I barely have time to think. He pulls back and drives in hard enough that the bed frame hits the wall and I cry out and he does it again. And again. His hips slam into me and the sound of slapping fills the room and I'm gripping the sheets so hard my knuckles ache and every thrust hits the spot his fingers found, and the pressure builds again, faster this time, layered on top of the orgasm that's still echoing through me.
"Harder," I tell him again, because I want it and because the word exists in my vocabulary for moments exactly like this one.
He grabs my hair again. Pulls my head back so I’m forced to arch, my ass pushing up. The angle changes as he drives in deeper and I scream. Not a moan, not a gasp, a scream, and if anyone in this compound didn't know what was happening in this room they do now and I don't give a single solitary fuck.
His free hand slides around my hip and finds my clit and rubs in tight circles while he fucks me from behind and the combination of his cock and his fingers and his hand in my hair and his teeth on my shoulder is too much and not enough at the same time and I'm saying his name over and over,Emilio, fuck, Emilio, right there, don't stop, fuck, please, don't stop.
"Come for me," he says against my neck. "Come on my cock, Savannah."
I come so hard my vision goes black. My pussy clenches around him and the scream that comes out of me is silent for the first second because my lungs forget how to push air, and then it hits, loud and broken and his name tangled up in it. He follows me over. I feel him thrust deep one last time and hold there, buried, his body pressed against mine, a groan tearing out of him that I feel in his chest and in my spine and between my legs where he pulses inside me.
We collapse. His weight on top of me, my face in the mattress, both of us breathing hard enough that the room sounds like we just ran a marathon. His hand lets go of my hair and his fingers stroke through it instead, gentle now, smoothing the tangles he made. His mouth presses against my shoulder where his teeth left a mark, and the kiss is soft and careful and so different from everything that just happened that my eyes sting.
He rolls to the side and pulls me with him so we're lying face to face, legs tangled, his arm heavy over my waist. His forehead rests against mine. I can feel his breath on my lips.
"You good?" he asks.
"I'm fucking incredible."
He laughs. The sound is tired, and it fills the small space between our faces. "Yeah, you are."
"That wasn't a compliment to you."
"Everything you say to me is a compliment. I keep telling you."
I put my hand on his chest. His heart is hammering. Fast and hard, and the fact that I did that to him, that this man who fights and kills and walks into enemy restaurants to negotiate alliances has a heart that races because of me, is a fact I'm going to carry with me for a long time.
"Hey, asshole."
"Yes, vixen."
"We're doing that again."
"Right now?"
"Give me ten minutes. My pussy needs a moment."
"Done." He grins against my forehead. "For the record, that was worth every lamp you've ever thrown at me."
"I threw one lamp."
"One lamp was enough."
I close my eyes. His arm tightens around my waist, and his breathing slowly starts to even out. Taking a peek, I watch his lashes flutter as his eyes close and I can’t hold back my grin.
Ten minutes.
Maybe fifteen.
Chapter Eleven: Emilio
Thejointoperationlauncheson a Tuesday because the universe has a sense of humor and Tuesdays are apparently when big things happen.
The first Tuesday, Savannah overheard a conversation at a waterfront club. The second Tuesday, I sat in a surveillance van and photographed Vidal boarding the Meridian Star. The third Tuesday, I'm standing in the compound garage at midnight with six Bonaccorso soldiers, four Castillo soldiers, and Carmelo.
The Castillo soldiers look at us the way we look at them, with the specific distrust of men who have spent years trying to kill each other and are now supposed to stand shoulder to shoulder because Kreiss made both families look stupid. Nobody's happy about it. Nobody's supposed to be. The alliance is a tool, not a friendship, and the tool gets put away when the job is done.
Leone runs the briefing from the war room via comms. Claudio is there with him, monitoring the operation. He’s the more openly vicious out of the two of us, but apparently Leone wanted to make sure the compound was covered while we were gone. Alexandra is tracking the financial accounts in real time in case Kreiss tries to move money during the raid.
