“You okay?” he murmurs, drawing his hips back and slowly pushing inside me again.
“That feels so good,” I assure him.
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.”
Confident I’m not going to break, he puts a little more power behind his thrusts.
I hate feeling like he holds back, even understanding why he would feel the need to. So I glance back at him over my shoulder. “You don’t have to be gentle with me.”
He runs his hand over my ass, pulling back and easing back in one more time. “You sure?”
“I won’t break, I promise.”
I get a glimpse of his sexy little smile, then I face forward and wait to see if he’ll listen. I love that he’s gentle with me because I know it means he cares, but I don’t want him to hold back with me. I want him to give me everything he’s got—maybe not all today, but it’s a start.
I guess he believes me, because his next couple thrusts increase in power until he’s pounding into me so hard and deep I can hardly keep a hold on the counter.
In no time at all, my pussy contracts around his cock, and with a few more thrusts and a low groan, he finds his own release.
I wish we would’ve moved to the bed. I want to curl up and cuddle with him, not have to stand on my wobbly legs.
Sal pulls out and turns me around to face him. He smiles tenderly, crushing his thumb across my cheek, and brushes a kiss across my lips. “I have no problem being gentle if that’s what you want. Francesca.”
“I just want you,” I tell him, running a hand down his muscular chest. “All of you. Tender Sal, rough Sal—whatever version you’ve got, I’ll take it.”
Smiling growing, he tells me, “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then he wraps his arms around me for a minute, pressing a kiss on top of my head. “I’ll be right back. I need to get this off and wash up.”
I nod, back out of his embrace so I can scoop up my discarded clothing from the ground and clean up at the kitchen sink.
Chapter Eighteen
The house is quiet when I sneak through the front door, easing it shut with a gentle click. I dart a glance right, then left toward Mateo’s study. The door is cracked open, so I assume he’s inside.
Mateo had a dinner with Mia and her mom tonight, so I thought I might beat him home and he’d never even know I was gone. Sal and I fell asleep like a couple of numbskulls though, and now here I am, sneaking in like a teenager out past curfew. Mateo may not have even noticed, though. He’s been pretty distracted dealing with this Mia situation, so he’s not paying as much attention to me. On one hand I hope it continues that way so I can spend more time with Sal, but on the other, I don’t, because that probably doesn’t mean anything good for Vince.
The mood in the house has been a bit tense since Mateo discovered Vince’s secret girlfriend. No one was sure what Mateo would do—logically, killing her made the most sense, but Vince has lobbied hard to keep her alive.
I think about heading to Vince’s room to check in and see how the dinner went, but I reconsider and go to Mateo’s study instead. I pop my head in but he’s not at his desk. I check the wing chairs to see if he’s with Adrian, but the whole room is empty.
I step inside anyway, passing the desk and pressing against the panel leading to Mateo’s surveillance room.
There he is.
He glances up and I await permission to interrupt. I don’t know if he’s doing something legitimately important or idly searching out signs of treason. It must not be urgent; he takes the headphones off and smiles faintly.
“What can I do for you, Francesca?”
I don’t have an actual reason to be in here. I can’t exactly say, “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t notice me missing tonight—you didn’t? Cool. Good night!”
Instead I step inside, letting the door close behind me, and glance at the screen he’s watching. I can’t hold back a faint grimace when I see it’s Vince’s bedroom. Mia is on the bed with him, so I guess the dinner didn’t go too terribly.
That’s a good reason to check in. Feigning mild interest, I ask, “How did your dinner with Mia’s mom go?”
Mateo leans back in his chair, turning his attention to me. “It went well. Her mom’s almost as easy as she is.”
I frown at that. “That’s kind of mean.”
He shrugs, unconcerned, his gaze drifting back to the monitor. “Without tact, the truth often is.”
“I think she’s nice,” I tell him. I’m not sure Mia needs me to come to her defense, but I know Vince really likes her and I don’t know what Mateo has up his sleeve.