“There were quite a few men in each of the SUVs and trucks. By the time I got toward the end of the line, they knew someone was attacking them and they were waiting, set up for that. Those in the truck behind the SUV were also watching. There was a helicopter in the sky with a spotlight as well. It was a tricky situation.”
“I told Dario to order you inside.”
His fingers stroked lower, to the very top of that tiny scrap of crimson material she called panties. Her thong was already damp. More than damp. His long fingers slipped inside and caressed her bare mound. She kept herself shaved because the sensation inside the tubes of being pulled apart was easier without hair. She normally braided the hair on her head very tightly before going into the shadows to keep from feeling as if she were being scalped.
“I wouldn’t have come inside even if Dario had gotten a message to me. My family was running the operation, Val. I go where I’m assigned, just like everyone else. I’m good at my job.”
“All communication went through Emilio, and he made that very clear to Dario. To me. Stefano was giving the orders. He had given out all the assignments. Lie back, baby.”
“Val, this isn’t a good idea. You were shot. You’re not healed yet. I was beat up. We haven’t worked anything out.”
“This is the only idea. Two long fucking years, Emmanuelle. Do you honestly think I’m going to wait any longer for you? We can talk after. I’ll be gentle with you. You can be gentle with me.”
He never stopped moving the pads of his fingers along her mound. Now they dipped even lower, skimming along her bare lips, feeling the dampness, her slick heat. He slid one finger through her wetness. Her feminine channel clenched hard. Every individual muscle. It was disturbing to need him so much. He’d barely touched her, and yet every nerve ending in her body was totally alive and aware of him.
Emmanuelle’s breath caught in her lungs, leaving her raw and burning for air. It was always like this if she got too close to him. Inside her body, flames licked through her veins, the fire burned bright and hot. Tension just coiled tighter and tighter.
She would have believed him, but he didn’t sound gentle. There was a distinct growl to his voice. An edge. The hand wrapping around her throat tightened just a fraction. Miniscule, but she felt it. The hand sliding through her wetness brushed her clit, and she jerked as if he’d touched her with a white-hot flame.
“Lie back now, Princess. I’m not waiting another minute to taste you. I’ve been craving the taste of you since the moment you got on the bed with me and I could smell your unique fragrance. Nobody smells like you do.” He pulled his hand from her thong and lifted his fingers to his mouth and licked, his eyes watching her, tongue curling around his fingers as if savoring the cream.
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
His hand slid from her neck, so gently, over her breasts to her belly. He spread the heat of his palm on her, nearly taking up her entire stomach, his fingers splayed wide. “It’s a compliment, Emme.”
Very slowly, but relentlessly, he applied pressure until she complied with his order, letting herself fall to her back.
Her heart accelerated until she thought it might burst from her chest. “Valentino.” She whispered his name. She didn’t know if she thought to stop him. She didn’t want him to stop. Not when his face was carved somewhere between carnal lust and love. Not when desire was stark and raw and dark in his eyes.
“You don’t need these, baby.” He caught the crimson thong and pulled it over her hips and down her legs to toss it onto the chair, leaving her body bare and completely open and vulnerable to him.
CHAPTER TEN
Valentino stood for a moment at the end of the bed, looking at the woman who was his. Two long fucking years he’d waited for her to come to him. She lay sprawled out, naked, her gorgeous body his for the taking. He wanted to devour her. Spend endless hours with her, hearing her scream his name when she came for him over and over. Hell, tie her to the bed and keep her there until she realized they belonged together. She was so skittish, so damn certain he didn’t love her. How could he not? How could anyone not love Emmanuelle Ferraro? She was so convinced they didn’t belong together, when really, she knew damn well they did.
He ran both hands from the tops of her thighs all the way to her ankles, a slow assault, just to feel the shape of her. To feel her in the palms of his hands. He’d always loved knowing he could do that—just touch her anywhere. He loved holding his woman. Pulling her onto his lap. Kissing her. Sliding his hand under her shirt just to feel her silky skin. He wasn’t the kind of man who needed to show ownership of a woman by grabbing her breasts or ass publicly, but he loved to stroke the pad of his finger along her ribs or belly. She had such soft skin over amazingly firm muscles. Emme was soft silk over a framework of steel, and that, to him, was sexy as all get-out.
He caught her thighs and pulled them apart. Widened them even farther as he stepped closer. “You’re so damn beautiful, Emme. I wonder how many times you can come for me? How many times you can scream my name before it sinks into your head that there’s no going back?” He murmured the question against her inner thigh softly. Musing. As if it weren’t a warning. As if his intention wasn’t to show her she was his. He was hers. They belonged. They were meant.
Startled, her head lifted and those intense blue eyes met his. She couldn’t fail to see his intentions. He’d had enough of her running. He was putting a stop to it one way or another. He didn’t give a damn if Stefano Ferraro came out of the shadows and tried to break his neck, or one of her other brothers decided to end his life with a gun. Hell, he faced death every damn day of his life, and had since he was born. At least for Emmanuelle, he had a good reason.
“Valentino.” She whispered his name.
“Yes. Valentino. You should have come to me, Emme. You knew I didn’t cheat on you. You fucking knew it. You should have come to me. You clung to that because you didn’t want to face the real truth. Your real fears. You know I do love you and you do belong to me and that scares the holy hell out of you.”
He bent his head and pressed his lips to the inside of her left thigh and sucked. Gently at first. Harder. Longer. Leaving his mark. She reacted the way she always had. A little moan. Moving her leg as if she might try to take herself away from him, but when he clamped down on her, she didn’t fight him. She pressed into him, sighing. Wanting him. Needing him the way he needed her. He moved his mouth up one-half of an inch. So close to that hot junction between her legs, the one crying out for him.
Right now, his cock felt like a monster, caged only by the cloth of his perfectly tailored suit. That suit wasn’t fitting so well, applying far too much pressure to his already aching shaft and balls. He tore his zipper down to give himself a little respite. The relief wasn’t nearly what he needed, but it was enough to allow him to hear past the roaring in his head.
She moaned softly as he spread little kisses up her thigh from her knee to her bare lips, first one side and then the other. He took his time. Making her wait. He blew gently. Steadily. Licked at the liquid heat and then suddenly sucked her clit. She nearly jumped out of the bed. A small cry broke from her. He stopped immediately.