Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles 2)

“If I fuck you now, it’s going to be against this wall. It’s going to be hard and fast, and nothing like last time. Nothing like you want. Nothing like you need.”

I shivered at the underlying threat in his voice. I gazed up into his eyes, and again they shifted between anger and absolute calm. I didn’t understand any of it. Had the fight unchained him that much? Remo and Savio had been stunned by his behavior, so it wasn’t something that happened with every fight.

“You won’t hurt me.”

He took a deep breath, chest heaving, and closed his eyes. My dress clung to my body and my feet swam in my heels, but I stayed where I was, close to Nino, as he battled whatever demons the fight had summoned. His breathing slowed and his hand around mine loosened until he finally released me completely.

I kept my fingers around his erection and lightly brushed my thumb over the silky tip. Nino’s eyes jerked open, but this time he didn’t stop me. I moved my hand slowly up and down, not hard and fast, trying to give him comfort and not let this be his outlet for the violence brooding in his body. He braced himself, placing his hands on both sides of my head, and regarded me through half-closed eyes.

He rocked his hips in rhythm with my pumps, and eventually some of the tension slipped away. His breathing deepened as I rubbed him, and when I used my second hand to cup his balls, he let out a low breath and pumped even faster. I wanted to comfort him, wanted to show him that I was there for him.

Nino lowered his head, and I tilted mine back to meet his mouth for a kiss. It was gentle, unhurried, and deliciously slow. No anger or violence, only beautiful sensuality. My own body responded to the kiss and the feel of Nino coming undone under my touch. His moves became less controlled and his kiss more passionate, and then his body tightened, and he groaned against my mouth. He jerked in my hand, his eyes closing. I kept stroking, and for a long time he stayed still, his forehead lightly pressed up against mine, his chest heaving.

I released him and the water washed away every trace of our juices. Nino opened his eyes again, and his expression was back to the familiar calm. I was torn between missing the more unhinged version of him, the one he’d never shown before, and being relieved that Nino hadn’t lost it completely.

He straightened, robbing me of his heat. He turned the water off, his eyes trailing the length of me. “You can’t walk out of the changing room in wet clothes,” he said matter-of-factly.

I searched his face for a hint of something, but he returned my gaze steadily, eerily. He stepped out of the shower and grabbed two towels. “It’s probably for the best if you undress and dry yourself. I will get dressed and see if I can organize clothes for you.”

Nodding mutely, I took the towel, wrapping it around my curls to stop them from dripping all over the place. I peeled my soaking dress off my body. Despite his words, Nino didn’t leave or move to get dressed. Instead, he watched me remove my dress then my underwear. “Nino, are you all right? You’ve been off since the fight.”

“I’m fine,” he murmured then finally dried himself off and got dressed. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“What if someone comes in?” I asked, a hint of worry creeping into my voice.

Nino shook his head. “Nobody will dare to come in. Trust me. I won’t be gone long.”

He disappeared, and I wrapped another towel around myself, staring down at the red heap at my feet. What had gotten into Nino?

As promised, he returned a few minutes later with jeans and a plain black T-shirt. “Roger’s waitresses keep spare clothes in case they spill something.”

I took the clothes and put them on. They were a bit too big on me, but at least they smelled clean and were dry. I cringed, thinking about what people would say if I came out in different clothes than before.

“Something is bothering you,” Nino said, coming a bit closer, his brows drawn together.

“I’m worried what people will think of me.”

He gripped my waist and pulled me toward him. “They will think that you gave your husband a prize for winning.”

My cheeks grew hot. “Yeah, that.”

“And?” he asked quietly, the strange look still in his eyes. He nibbled my throat, then my ear. “You are my wife.”

My lashes fluttered, and I released a strangled breath. I was already getting aroused again. He picked my dress up from the ground, wrung it out, and put it into his bag before taking my hand. I took my slippery heels in my free hand and followed Nino out of the changing room, barefoot.