Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles 2)

He dipped one finger between my lips. “Say something. Tell me to stop if you don’t want this.”

“I … I’m worried it’ll hurt like last time.”

“It won’t,” Nino said firmly with certainty. The tip of his finger moved a bit lower. I tensed, remembering the pain from long ago, the feeling of breaking, of helplessness.

Nino regarded me, his finger lightly tracing my opening, but he didn’t push in. He reached up with his other hand and stroked my lower belly. “Try to loosen up, Kiara. You are very wet, and my finger will be very pleasurable against your sensitive walls if you allow it.”

I tried to relax, but my body clamped down with fear from the past. Nino kept stroking my opening and folds. “Let me help you,” he murmured.

He startled me when his hand fluttered up from my stomach to the ticklish spot over my ribs. I gasped out in laughter and twitched. Then Nino slipped his finger into me. He immediately stopped the tickling.

“Oh,” I breathed out and stilled. It didn’t hurt at all. Slowly, his eyes found my face. He began moving his finger, and I moaned at the sensation.

“Why did you tickle me?” I asked thickly as Nino kept thrusting inside me with his finger. He rubbed my clit lightly.

“I distracted your body. Your brain had assumed my finger against your opening was a threat because you expected pain, so I went and posed another threat your synapses had to focus on. Usually it works best with actual pain, but tickling is effective too because the body reacts in a similar way.”

I shook my head. “You are good at this.”

His lips twitched, and his gray eyes questioned me. “I’ve studied the workings of the body for a long time, especially its reactions to pleasure and pain.”

I didn’t doubt it. I moaned as he did something with his finger inside of me, a light rotation.

He repeated the motion and rubbed his thumb lightly over my clit. “Do you like this?”

How could he even ask? “Yes,” I managed to get out. His lips took the place of his thumb over my clit as his finger slid in and out slowly.

“Come again for me,” he said in that silky, dominant tone, and I fell apart under the combined sensation of his finger and his mouth.

My entire body burst with waves of pleasure. I trembled for a long time, trying to catch my breath. Nino pulled his finger out and then shocked me by lifting it to his lips and putting it into his mouth.

“I enjoy your taste, Kiara,” he said in a more textured voice as he knelt between my legs. My eyes were drawn to his pants. He was hard, aroused because he’d had his mouth on me.

I sat up, reached for his briefs. “I want to give back.”

Nino slipped out them then knelt on the bed again. I was in front of him and reached for him. He groaned. I moved slowly then leaned forward, and he met me halfway. His lips claimed mine and tasted like me. We kissed as I pumped my hands up and down, his eyes boring into me with more than cold scrutiny. Our kiss turned desperate, uncoordinated. Nino tensed in my grip. I watched the small twitches of his muscles, the sharp pull of his mouth, listened to his quick pants, and it felt right.

CHAPTER 18

KIARA

Leona gave me a look. “Are you nervous too?”

I laughed. “Nervous doesn’t even begin to cover it. I don’t think I’ll be any good at fighting.” I paused. “But why are you nervous? I thought you’ve practiced with Fabiano before.”

“A few times, yes, but we’ve always been alone. Now there will be people watching.”

I nodded. I wished Nino had chosen to practice alone with me, but I knew he had a lot on his plate because of his upcoming fight against that giant man.

When we stepped out into the training hall, my eyes had trouble taking it all in. The chandelier dangling from the ceiling, the red and gold wallpaper, the broken roulette tables, the beautiful dirty, seashell-shaped windows … It was so typically Falcone to choose something as flashy as an abandoned casino building for their fighting gym.

The men had already gathered around the boxing ring. They were only in fight shorts, and my heart thundered faster at the sight of all that muscle and scars. Even Adamo was muscular for an almost fourteen-year-old.

“Thank God, not the cage,” Leona muttered, and I gave her a questioning look. She smiled. “Fabiano always insists we work out in the cage, and it honestly gives me the creeps.”

My eyes wandered over to the cage, and I had to agree. I was already nervous as it was.

Nino touched my hip when I arrived beside him. “Leona will go first because she already has some practice.”