Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles 2)

“That’s what I’ll do tonight,” he murmured then added in an even lower voice, “Between your legs.”

I shivered. Nino was less careful around me; it was exciting and terrifying, and I didn’t want it any other way.

He pulled back, gray eyes evaluating my face. He reached for my wrist, brushing his thumb across the sensitive skin before he kissed it. “Remember, there’s nothing for you to fear when you are in bed with me.”

I nodded. My dry throat made swallowing difficult. “I think the lasagna is done.”

Nino took out the large pan and carried it into the gaming room. I carried plates, napkins, and cutlery. Savio, Adamo, and Remo had already taken their usual seat. For a moment, I considered asking them to have dinner in the dining room but then decided against it.

“That smells good,” Adamo said as he leaned over the lasagna the moment Nino set it down on a wooden trivet.

“Are you sure she didn’t poison the food?” Savio asked with a grin, but he was already loading up his plate with lasagna.

Nino put his hand on my knee as he sat down beside me. “Kiara and I have plans for tonight, so I don’t think she will poison me just yet. Am I right?”

Heat blasted my cheeks.

“TMI, Nino,” Adamo muttered.

“TLI if you ask me,” Savio said with a grin. “It was more fun when you still shared your fuck adventures with us, Nino. Now I only get to hear Remo’s twisted shit.”

I was sure my head would explode with embarrassment any minute.

“If you don’t want to hear my twisted shit, I’ll share it with only Nino and Fabiano in the future.”

“I don’t think anyone wants to hear it,” I said.

Remo leaned back, regarding me with a sinister smile on his face. “Not everyone’s cut out for shitty vanilla sex, so sue me. And if I remember right, Nino and Fabiano enjoyed the rougher side of things too before your women castrated you.”

I chanced a look at Nino, but his face didn’t give anything away. The lasagna was delicious, and the men dug in as if it were their last meal. As usual, they taunted each other and argued. It always gave me a strange sense of belonging when they acted like family around me.

After dinner, Nino and I retreated to our wing. When Nino closed the door to our bedroom, I peered up at him curiously. “What did Remo mean with the rougher side of things?”

Nino shook his head. “It doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

“You don’t know what I think,” I said quietly. “Maybe you are a genius, but you aren’t a mind reader.”

Nino wrapped his fingers around my wrist and tugged me closer. Then he leaned down. “I don’t have to be a mind reader to recognize the look on your face, Kiara.”

I sighed. “So you never …?” My voice shook.

“Never,” he said firmly and relief filled me. His thumb stroked my wrist. “How about we explore some more now?”

I gave a mute nod, excitement coursing through my body. Nino led me toward the bed. “If you want me to go down on you, it would be wise not to have me restrained … unless you feel comfortable sitting on my face.”

My eyes flew open in shock. “No,” I finally managed. “Definitely not.”

Nino’s lips twitched at the corners. “That’s what I thought.”

My cheeks were hot as I rolled my eyes. Stepping closer, I stood on my tiptoes and curled my hand around Nino’s neck. He lowered his head at once, claiming my mouth and wrapping an arm around my back. I lost myself in his kiss until he began to lower us to the bed. I felt the soft mattress beneath me as Nino hovered over me.

He pulled away, his eyes tracing my face. “Fear?” he asked quietly, holding his body above me.

It was ridiculous to be scared because it was Nino, but how Durant had felt hovering over me always returned to my mind, even if I didn’t want the memories to hold me back.

Nino lowered himself to the bed beside me, and I quickly returned kissing him. He complied without hesitation and as usual took lead. I surrendered to his expert tongue, feeling my center heat. His hand stroked my side then slipped below my shirt, touching skin and creating goose bumps. His fingers reached higher then brushed over my lace bra. My nipples puckered under the touch, and I moaned into Nino’s mouth. His hand cupped my breasts and kneaded lightly at first then his touch grew firmer. Gathering my courage, I reached for Nino, needing to feel him. My hands slid over his muscled chest, down to his ripped stomach until I reached the hem of his shirt. I tugged at it.

Nino pulled away from my mouth, sat up, and yanked his shirt over his head. My eyes took in his torso, the muscles, the scars, the tattoos, and as usual, my body filled with thousands of butterflies. Before he had even lain back down, my hands were already roaming over his chest. He propped himself up to allow me to explore. His eyes were on my face, but my eyes remained on my fingers as they stroked his pecs then grazed his nipples.