Twisted Loyalties (The Camorra Chronicles 1)

She was supposed to be fun.

That was all Remo would ever allow.

Fun.

I brushed my thumb over the small nub straining against her bra. It grew under my touch. Leona’s lips parted but she didn’t wake. I wasn’t a good man, nothing close to it, and it was time I stopped acting like I was, like I could be. The bracelet Aria had given me was stuffed inside my sock drawer, and it would stay there.

I trapped her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and began moving it back and forth slowly, feeling it harden even more. Leona shifted her legs. Was she feeling it between her perfect thighs? I tugged, and she let out a low moan. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened sleepily and found me. Surprise and shock flashed across her face. I tugged at her nipple once more and her lips fell open with a gasp. My eyes on her face, daring her to stop me, I lowered my mouth to her breast and cupped her nipple with my lips, and sucked it lightly through the fabric. That stopped any protest she might have had in mind. I watched her hooded eyes as I sucked harder.

I slid a finger over the edge of her bra and tugged it down, revealing the pink nub. “Fabiano,” she said hesitantly but I didn’t allow her time for more words. I swirled my tongue around her nipple, then pulled back to watch Leona press her legs together. She tasted amazing, like clean sweat and something sweeter. I lowered my mouth again, traced the tip of my tongue around the edge of her nipple, then slid to the center and nudged, then licked her nub with languid strokes of my tongue. I sucked the small pink nipple into my mouth, relishing in the taste and Leona’s shivers. She moaned again.

If playing with her tits made her come undone, I couldn’t wait to dip my tongue between her silky folds.

I took my time with her nipple, wanting her to beg me for release. She ground her hips into the mattress in obvious need but didn’t say the words I wanted to hear. My erection was rubbing painfully against the fabric of my briefs, driving me almost insane.

Done with being patient, I brushed my palm up her inner thigh. Her muscles tensed under my touch but she didn’t stop me. I held her gaze as my fingers brushed the crook between her thigh and pussy. Still no sign of protest. Instead she opened her legs a bit wider, trust in her eyes.

Damn it, Leona.

I claimed her mouth for a fierce kiss and slipped my fingers under her panties, and over her soft folds. She was so fucking aroused, so fucking ready to have me take her. Her body was practically begging for it, but that fucking trusting look in her eyes ruined it all. I ran my thumb up slowly until I brushed her clit. She bit her lip, hips rising up from the bed. I kept my eyes on her face, relishing in the twitches of pleasure, the wonder at how I could make her feel with the simple touch of my thumb. The trust in her eyes anchored me, and I needed it to, because my body wanted more than she was willing to give, and the darkest parts of me knew nothing would stop me. And these parts were almost all that was left of me. It had been years since that part of me hadn’t run the show. My thumb moved in slow circles over her wet flesh, and her gasps and moans became less controlled. She clutched my arm, and I kissed her hard, swallowing her cry as she tumbled over the edge. Her eyes fell shut as she shuddered, and for the briefest moment, I considered breaking my promise and breaking whatever dangerous tie was building between us. Then she looked up at me, shy and embarrassed and guilty, and I knew it was too fucking late for that.

Chapter Thirteen

My heartbeat raced in my chest as the last tongues of pleasure ebbed away. Embarrassment slowly banished the thrilling euphoria. Fabiano didn’t say anything, and I wasn’t really sure what to say either. I hadn’t meant for things to progress this fast. To sleep in Fabiano’s bed, to have him touch me. The sensations had been wondrous, unlike anything I’d ever been capable of eliciting with my own fingers.

He peered down at me, a dark expression on his face, as if what had just happened was a mistake. I felt self-conscious under his scrutiny. It didn’t make sense that he felt unhappy about it. He hadn’t gone against his own convictions. But perhaps he had come to the realization that I wasn’t worth his attention. Perhaps I’d done something wrong, though I couldn’t really see how that was possible as I hadn’t done anything but let him touch me.