Page 19 of Wrong Pawn. Right Capo.

He presses me back against the seat, mouth claiming me fully now, hands exploring with reverent desperation. The storm he holds inside finally leaks out. I melt into him, my fingers threading into his hair, my heart pounding.

One hand trails from my neck to my collarbone, pausing there to replace the touch with a nip of his teeth. His hands soon reclaim their spot, easing gently into my braless outfit. I gasp as his fingers find my nipples, rubbing them in a steady rhythm.

“Don’t you dare make a sound,” he rumbles against my lips. My clit is throbbing crazily now, with a speed I never knew was possible. My thighs are drenched from overstimulation.

My heart is racing from the fear of what could happen if someone saw us, and the excitement of actually being fucked again by Adrian. The first time we had sex at that masquerade ball, I came so hard I felt the reverberation for three whole days.

And honestly… I couldn’t wait to feel it again.

He tears his mouth away from mine. “Lift your hands.” My arms shoot above my head immediately. He swipes his belt off his waist smoothly, wrapping it around my wrists to keep them firmly in place.

Whoa! The anticipation of what he’ll do now that I can’t lay my hands on him….

His hands cup my breasts whole and hard, squeezing as he drives his tongue into me. I can feel his other hand stray from my hips, finding its way past all the layers of my dress to slip itself between my thighs.

My hips buck, eager to have those thick digits inside of me. Instead, he scrapes the edge of his fingernail lightly down my thigh, arousing both sting and pleasure.

He pulls his lips back from mine, penetrating eyes staring back at me as his hand trails further between my thighs. My lips part in a low moan as his finger strokes my lace thong.

“Is that a moan I hear?” He rasps, pressing his finger hard on my clit. My back arches forward, eyes snapping shut as a tingling sensation rushes through my blood.

Fuck.

“Words,” he growls, pinching hard on my nipple.

I shake my head, my lips trembling. “N…no.”

“Lie to me again, and I’ll take you outside and fuck you senseless for every damn eye to see.” He closes a powerful hand over my mouth and adds another finger over my clit, increasing the pace of his motion there. I can feel my release nearing now, my hips riding madly to the rhythm of his fingers.

Both his hands are working steadily on me now, one on my nipple, the other on my pussy. When he pushes the thong aside, fingers finding my slick wetness, he groans.

I’m about to moan in response when he lowers his head to my breasts, sucking, nipping…biting. Then his fingers slide in. Oh…fuck!

He thrusts slowly, teasing me with his tongue and fingers at the same time. His other hand wraps around my neck, applying just enough pressure to choke back any sound I try to make.

My eyes water, but I’ll have it no other way as he plunges and curls deeper inside me until a cry breaks free from my throat, and an orgasm hits my pussy like a violent wave.

His fingers stay inside me until I can grasp a hold of myself, my trembling hips finally settling back against the seat. Then he slides his fingers out, sucking my cum off them as he stares darkly at me.

Heat flushes over me like I haven’t just soaked his hand to the wrist in my release and watched him taste every drop.

I whimper in response.

“The next time you run your mouth, I’ll leave you bound to this seat, and I will fuck every single word right out of your throat until you won’t remember your own name, let alone how to walk. Don’t push me to cross that line.”

He unbuckles the belt from my wrists. Then he straightens his suit and gets out of the car, slamming the door.

Chapter six

Adriano

I don’t believe in guilt. It’s a useless emotion, one meant for people who still think redemption is real.

That particular line was hammered into my mind long before I was old enough to understand exactly what direction had been chosen for my life. My father believed guilt weakened the hand that pulled the trigger. He said men who hesitated didn’t live long enough to matter. I learned early on that emotions were liabilities, and liabilities got buried.

Still, as I slam the door and walk away from Elena without looking back, something unpleasant crawls up my spine. It’s neither regret nor hesitation, but annoyance at myself.

I shouldn’t even have lingered. Shouldn’t have closed the space between us. Shouldn’t have leaned in when her breath hitched like she wanted to say something but didn’t dare. Wanting me felt like a betrayal to her, and that alone should’ve satisfied whatever twisted instinct pushed me toward her.