Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles 2)

My eyes lingered on his erection. He was long and thick and circumcised. A brief moment of panic burst through me at the idea of having him inside of me, remembering the pain from long ago, but I pushed it aside. I curled my fingers around the base, and Nino released a low breath, but he kept very still. I was in control of this. Nobody forced me to do this. I wanted it. My choice.

I began moving my hand slowly, up and down, focusing on the present, on my breathing, on Nino’s low exhales, on the silkiness of him in my palm. He was tense under my touch, and when I finally dared to look up, his eyes burned into me with desire.

I shuddered, my movements faltering for a moment, but then I tightened my grip and sped up. This time I kept my eyes on his face, needing to see him, needing to see what I did to him. Nino never looked away as I rubbed him harder and faster, his breathing turning into pants. My own breathing turned labored as I watched him, watched his beautiful face. His free hand gripped the edge of the mattress as his expression twisted and his thigh muscles contorted under my hand. “If you keep it up, I’m going to come,” he rasped.

I didn’t stop. I needed to continue. My lips parted when Nino’s eyes closed. His hips thrust upwards, and he came with a shudder. Nothing was more beautiful than Nino’s perfectly cold face alight with passion. My gaze flitted down to my hand as he came over my fingers.

Stilling, my breathing lodged in my chest. He twitched twice, and then Nino, too, stilled. It became very quiet around us except for the pounding of my heart in my ears.

NINO

Kiara stared down at her hand wrapped around my softening cock with my cum all over it. She was tense and her expression was impossible for me to read. I sat up, unlocked the handcuff, and gently pried her hand off me. Then I stood and tugged her along. She followed me without a word into the bathroom, where I turned the water on in the sink on and held her hand under it, washing my cum off. I could only assume it had triggered memories from the past.

Her brows drew together, and finally she raised her eyes to mine. “Why did you do that?”

I regarded her, trying to read her expression, but it was only puzzled not upset. I dried her hand then curled my fingers around her wrist. Her pulse was fast but not as fast as it was when she was scared. “I assumed you were upset because I came over your hand.”

“I wasn’t,” she said quietly.

I tilted my head. “Then why did you tense? You looked upset.”

“I was stunned and relieved,” she said slowly. “Because I was worried I couldn’t do it. That it would remind me too much of what he did, but it didn’t. I wasn’t disgusted.”

“That’s good,” I murmured. I hadn’t expected her to touch me today, but she must have felt safe with me being restrained. She smiled up at me, and I returned the smile. Her expression softened further. She pressed up against me, and my hands automatically wrapped around her hips. “Let me touch your pussy, Kiara. I want to make you feel good. I want to make you come hard.”

A blush spread on her cheeks. There was still uncertainty on her face.

“My fingers won’t bring pain, only pleasure. Trust me.”

“I do,” she said quietly.

I led her back into the bedroom, and Kiara lay down on the bed, watching me with a small, tense smile. I knelt beside her. “I will massage your legs and work my way up. For now, you’ll keep your panties on, okay?”

She nodded.

As I put my palms on her thighs, her skin tightened under the touch. “You just say ‘stop’ when you want me to stop,” I told her firmly, meeting her gaze.

“Okay,” she said.

I began kneading her outer thigh, and after a moment she relaxed, but I didn’t move on. Eventually, I widened my movements, my fingertips stroking the soft inner side of her thighs where the small scar was. Kiara’s breathing deepened. I brushed my palm higher, finally reaching her panty-covered mound. She sucked in a breath, and I glanced up at her and found her watching me.

“Do you want me to stop?”

She gave a quick shake of her head, and I smiled. “Good.”

I ran my palm over her panties again, and she rocked her hips lightly. This time as I brushed my hand over her, I slid my middle finger over the little dip, brushing her folds and clit. She arched up with a surprised little moan, and I repeated the motion. Her panties stuck to her wet flesh, giving me a perfect view of her slit. Slowing my hand as I ran it over her, I made sure the pad of my finger rested against her nub. I kept my palm pressed against her pussy. Her heat and wetness was tantalizing against my skin. Her heady scent teased my nose and made me want to bury my face in her lap and lick up her arousal.