Jack of Spades (Vegas Underground 2)

It’s exactly what my body craves.

Stefano lets out a growl of pleasure, holding me tighter as he increases his speed. “Yes,” I whisper, closing my eyes.

“Look at me, bambina.”

I don’t know why he wants me to look, but I crack my lids and stare up at him as he thoroughly fucks me. It’s more intense with our gazes locked—way more intense. Stefano’s lids droop, but a muscle in his jaw ticks as he shoves in with powerful thrusts. His eyes blaze with dark heat, animalistic desire.

I find myself wishing he’d taken off his t-shirt so I could watch those bulging muscles on his arms and chest flex in naked glory. Fuck it; he made me ask for sex. I can ask for this, too.

“Take off your shirt, Stefano.” I don’t even ask.

His eyes flare and a slow smile spreads over his face as he continues to pump in and out of me. He drags his t-shirt off and tosses onto the floor. “Better?”

My mouth waters, and I’m suddenly dying to drag my tongue over all that hard flesh. His chiseled chest is covered in dark curls with a happy trail that leads to his cock. Washboard abs. Ripped shoulders. No tattoos. That surprises me.

He drops to rest on his hands beside my ribs, bringing his face close to mine. “Like what you see?”

I pop my hips to meet his thrusts, take him deeper. “Yeah.”

He twists his lips over mine in one demanding kiss, then pushes back up to his knees and rolls mine up to my shoulders.

I gasp at the new angle, the intensity of sensation. And that’s when he picks up the vibrator. He turns it on and pushes the tip up against my clit.

“No!” I wriggle, pre-orgasmic alarm flashing through me.

“Fucking give it to me,” he snarls.

I’m not even sure what he means, but he’s relentless with the vibrator and his teeth-rattling thrusts. I explode. Shatter. Disintegrate. I’m nothing but bucking hips and screams while he wrenches the orgasm from me the same forceful way he demands everything.

My inner muscles clench around his cock, squeezing.

I realize he’s making one long continuous growling sound. His nostrils flare and he bares his teeth. The sound peaks into a roar and he thrusts deep, ass bucking and jerking as he comes.

I come some more, another flutter of muscles clenching around his cock, milking it.

He drops down onto me and bites my shoulder, still rocking into me, but sweetly now. My body revels in every area of contact, post-coital pleasure spreading through me like an inkblot, making the whole fucked up night seem like nothing more than a prelude to this.

And that’s just the sex talking. Pay no attention to this cock-inspired bliss. I am still a prisoner here. And he’s still my keeper.

Even if he does know how to make my body sing.

He eventually pulls out and tosses his condom in the trashcan by the bed, then lies beside me, stroking his hand up my belly.

I have a huge birthmark, an ugly splotch of red that stretches across my side, and I grow suddenly self-conscious when he starts tracing it with his finger.

“Don’t.”

“What? It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. How do you not have a boyfriend?”

I wrinkle my nose. “What makes you think I don’t?”

His sexy lips quirk. “I figured you would’ve said something the first time I kissed you.”

“Fair enough,” I concede.

“I don’t get it—woman like you. How do you not have a whole legion of men around you who fall on their knees to worship you forever? I would think one taste and they’d be lost.”

Something twists in my middle, the sick feeling of betrayal and failure. “Yeah, well, my last boyfriend turned out to be a snake. And your brother made him disappear.”

Stefano arches a brow. “Permanently?”

A shiver runs up my spine at the confirmation of what could’ve been.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“What happened?”

Anger shoves up in my chest, hot and searing. “Apparently one taste of me, as you suggested, was not enough, and he thought it would be cool to force-fuck my cousin, too. He didn’t manage because Nico showed up.”

Stefano mutters something and rubs a hand across his mouth. “How is he not dead?”

Right. That was my assessment of what Nico’s capable of, too. “Sondra was there, screaming for him to stop. So he did. Told him to leave the state or he’d kill him.”

Stefano stares down at me. I think he’s going to tell me what an idiot Dean was, or how I’m better off, but he surprises me. “You’re still pissed,” he observes.

I frown because, yeah, of course I’m pissed. But I also realize what it means. I’m not over Dean. And I really want to be.

“You didn’t get to knee him in the nuts before he left.”

I’m surprised by the laugh that tumbles from my lips. “Yeah, that might’ve helped.”