Page 79 of Violent Pawn

Gripping the space beneath her knee, I push her leg into the wall to force her wider, and then stand. It changes the angle of my fingers inside her, and still, testing how much she can take, I push in harder until she gasps.

And grows even wetter.

“That’s it. There she is. All that resolve, broken by a few fingers…” Backing up my words, I curl them. Twist. Thrust, and then thrust even harder until she lets out a cry. “Make a mess for me. Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.”

Her eyes scrunch, expression twists. Hips push into my hand, her cum sliding down the back of it. Her core tightens, but right when she’s on the precipice—when she’s about to scream the level of sound I’ve been longing for—I slash my mouth against hers and swallow it. My free hand collars her neck, pinning her to the wall.

Breathless, messy, and panting, my mouth muffles her cry. I swallow up her screams.

And become a motherfucking victor in the ongoing war.

She breaks apart from the kiss and molten-filled eyes skim up my face. Fuck, she mouths before her cheeks pinken in the gentlest most adorable and natural way I’ve seen of her.

“Look who’s the victor.” My thumb slides over her thrumming pulse as my other hand slides from her. I hold my hand up, fingers glistening with her juices, twisting and turning for the low light to catch on them. “You drenched my hand, cara mia.”

I brush them along her bottom lip until she parts her mouth, then take advantage of the opening by sliding them inside. Her tongue glides against the sweetness before sucking deeply. Lashes lay low on her cheeks before flicking up to me. She grins, then bites down on my fingertips.

“My turn.” I drop back to my knees, grab her leg again, and this time toss it over my shoulder. I part her with two fingers and stroke my tongue over her, front to back until her ragged breath confirms she’s about to be mine in yet another way. “God, you taste so sweet.” I lick over her thigh, skirting back to her centre, and over her core. “You’re what I’ll bottle up and drink. I’ve always wondered what your attitude truly tastes like. How it’d be to make that smart mouth of yours give me something other than insults.”

“Nero…” Her hand returns to my head, loosely gripping the strands.

There it is.

I massage her inner leg as my licks cover every inch of her. I tug her clit between my teeth, dip my tongue inside her, lick her like a dog laying claim to his property. Her moans grow, and she’s twitching like crazy.

I maintain the rotation until her movements get sloppy, her grip loosening. She’s repeating my name like a song that’ll play in my dreams. Muscles twitch beneath my hands, and when my tongue flicks faster, it sends her careening straight into my arms.

Her legs weaken as she drops in my hold, but her scream echoes off her bedroom walls, reminding me there’s more surfaces to take her in, on, and against. If she trusts me enough to sleep with me, I vow to make memories atop every inch of this room. Memories she won’t go a moment without reliving.

I’ll infect her mind as surely as she does mine.

“Pretty noises for a pretty girl.” I wipe the back of my hand along my cheek, not to discard but to lick the rest of her off me. “While tasting like sugar and sweetness. Guess it’s true how the saying goes then.”

Anastasia’s cheeks darken in a manner so reminiscent of who she pretends not to be. I grab her face between both my palms and kiss her before turning us towards her bed. Once I’m between her and the door, I bend my knees and hook an arm beneath her ass to lift her.

Her room is all dark colours, mainly red and burgundy, but my attention only takes in the space for the briefest second before returning to her. Her phone is plugged into her nightstand and charging.

It’s the source of so much information.

I lay her down on the bed and step between her legs, propping my elbows beside her head to peer down. Instead of meeting my gaze, she twists her head until staring behind me at the door we were against.

“I don’t allow men to do that. You’re the first in a long time.”

I still, mentally relaying what she said. What she’s giving me.

“Why me?”

“You know why.” She blinks, but doesn’t reopen her eyes. Not right away, anyway When she does, it’s with a fresh vulnerability.

I bend my head to kiss her, thanking her, except when I go to pull away, she wraps her arms around my neck to lock me in position. She still ends the kiss, though, to whisper what might be my undoing.

“I also control all my sexual encounters—always. I’ll never give a man that level of power over me. I never let them be on top.” Her nails dig into my skin, guaranteeing I can’t get off her now. “I’ve really come to trust you, Nero. Please don’t make me regret that.”

“I won’t. I promise I won’t. I’ll prove it to you.”

I’ve taken many vows over the years. To Papa, to help him. To Zeno and the Cosa Nostra to serve with loyalty. To Serafina to protect her.

Not only does my vow to Anastasia join the others, but it’s one that stitches itself into the fabric of my soul. I feel my words deep down.