I search in my bathroom for a salve my cousin in Sicily made me and return.
Corey hasn’t moved. She lies prone with her face hidden in the bedspread. My heart shoots into my throat. Is she crying?
I stroke her hair back from her face, and my shoulders ease. Her expression is soft, relaxed. Almost blissful.
Thank fuck.
I take an ample amount of salve and rub it over the cane marks, working it into her skin.
“What is that?”
“It’s a salve I brought back from Sicily. Helps with bruising.”
“There’s a salve for bruising?”
“I got it from my cousin. She makes a salve for just about everything. She’s one of those natural healing types—you know, into essential oils and herbs.”
“And she gave it to you because you have a propensity for getting bruises or giving bruises?” Her dry question gets under my skin.
I screw the lid back on the salve and drop it onto the bed. “Why do you have to keep poking that wound, baby? You need to remind me I’m no good for you? That you’re better than me?”
“What? No.” She rolls over and props herself up on an elbow, a line folding between her brows.
“I know, I know. I’m the bad guy. I’m on the wrong side of the law and your father’s on the right side.”
Corey goes pale. “My dad definitely isn’t the good guy. Not by any means.” Her words come out rough.
I’m instantly sorry. She told me they weren’t on speaking terms. Now I’m the one poking wounds. I sink down beside her. “Yeah, neither is mine,” I admit.
To my surprise, her fingers seek out my hand and she curls them over it and squeezes. I stare down at our interlocked fingers. When’s the last time any woman offered me comfort? When’s the last time I let her?
Oh yeah, never.
But this woman’s different. Everything’s so raw between us. It’s the intensity she mentioned—why she had to bail.
But I’m not letting her.
My phone buzzes again and I almost lose patience with it. “What?” I snap.
“We have a situation down here,” Tony says in a low voice.
Fuck. What now?
I lean over and kiss Corey’s shoulder. “Tell me you’ll still be in my bed when I get back?”
I see the understanding flare in her eyes. I’m letting her go. Maybe it’s guilt over punishing her, maybe it’s that I want to reward her honesty. Or it’s just time; I don’t know.
She nods and I pull the covers back to help her in. I kiss her lips this time, softly. “Good. I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
“Yeah. See you.”
I start to leave, then turn back. “You need anything? Room service? A drink? Ibuprofen?”
“No, I’m going to sleep,” she says. “Come back soon.”
And that’s when I know I’m fucked. Because the little backflip my heart does at those words is nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
Chapter 7
Corey
I hear Stefano come in around 4:00 a.m. but I fall right back to sleep. I wake later to him palming my breast, teasing the nipple as his cock lurches against my ass. I’m still naked from our escapades the night before. And of course, he never got off. I’m surprised he let me sleep this long.
I turn and push him to his back, then climb over him to straddle his waist. His eyes darken as his cock tents his boxer briefs. I free it, moisten the head with my tongue.
He groans. “I give you thirty seconds to tease. Then I’m going to flip you on your back and pound you into oblivion.”
My pussy clenches at the threat. “Oh yeah?” I slide my lips over his cock, taking him deeper as my fist works the base. His hips jack up and he thrusts into my mouth.
“Fuck, bambina. See what I mean?” He reaches for my head, and then, as if to keep himself from forcing me down on him, fists his hands in the air. Then he opens them and tears at his own hair instead.
I hum softly around his member, swirl my tongue on the underside as I pull out. A few drops of his salty essence rewards my efforts. I suck harder, hollowing my cheeks as I pull away.
Stefano growls and wraps a fist in my hair. “Fuck, yeah, baby. Take me deeper.”
I do. I take him as deep as I can go, slowing down so I don’t trigger my gag reflex.
“Bella, bella donna,” he croons.
His breathing grows short, he starts using my hair to tug me down over him faster, deeper, thrusting up at the same time. “Enough. Enough.” He pulls me off, his lip curling like the strain of holding back is killing him. “Roll over. Spread those legs.”
I lay on my belly and spread my legs wide. He swipes his fingers over my wetness and puts them in his mouth. “You taste so good, Corey.” He goes to the closet and returns with condoms and a bottle of lube. I didn’t think I needed lube, but I have to defer. Stefano is definitely a sex god. He must have some plan.