Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles 2)

Her lids fluttered open. “Sorry.”

I stroked her sides, and she licked her lips. “You can go deeper.”

And I did. This time I didn’t stop. As I raised my hips, I helped her down until her pussy pressed against my pelvis. I lowered myself to the mattress and took her with me. She became still on top of me as I filled her completely. Fuck. This felt as close to perfection as I could imagine.

She breathed out, and her fingers flexed against my skin. I swallowed. Never before had someone felt as good around my cock. My body screamed to move, to seek the pleasure her tightness could offer. She clung to me, completely motionless.

“Okay?” I asked in a low voice.

Kiara exhaled again. “It feels … good.” Tears filled her eyes, and I became as still as she was.

“Why the tears?”

She leaned forward to kiss me and shifted my cock inside of her. I moaned against her mouth, and she gave a small shudder. Her lips brushed mine, and I took her up on the invitation, tasting her mouth. Kissing had always seemed a necessary evil many women required during intercourse, but with Kiara it spiked my own arousal.

Slowly, she pulled back, eyes dark and teary. “I feel like I’m finally free of him.”

I stroked her back gently, trying to understand. I had killed him as brutally as I was capable of, and yet this act of tenderness finally destroyed the demons of her past, the memories of his actions. I tightened my hold on her, bringing our bodies flush together, my back pressed against the headboard. For once I didn’t know what to say, and it was an unsettling experience.

I began moving, rotating my hips slowly, gently, and she gasped. She looked into my eyes and brushed her lips over mine. Trust. Tenderness. And so many more emotions I didn’t understand. I’d never truly resented my incapability to feel, but in this moment I did.

“It feels so good, Nino.”

I angled my hips the same way, and Kiara’s lids fluttered, but she didn’t close her eyes. It was as if she needed to see me, so I returned her gaze. Her lips parted for a soft moan. It was a perfect sound, more perfect than any melody Kiara had ever created on her piano and she had created some of the most beautiful melodies I’d ever heard.

Brushing my thumb over her clit, it moved easily over her heated flesh coated with her juices. My other hand cupped her breast, my thumb flicking over the hardened nub. She cried out and clenched around me.

My eyes rolled back as I fought for control. I wanted to go harder, faster. Fuck. I forced the urge down and focused on my wife as she rocked her hips almost helplessly, trying to find more pleasure but uncertain of her moves. I let her discover the motion she loved as I kept slowly thrusting upward. Every time her eyes widened or her lips parted, my fucking heart clenched. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me. It wasn’t a physical response I’d ever encountered during sex.

I flicked my thumb over her clit faster and sped up my thrusts. Kiara’s walls clamped tightly around my cock, her nails digging into my skin. She rocked faster, barely meeting my thrusts. It was uncoordinated and unpracticed and yet the best thing I’d ever watched. The fucking best thing I’d ever felt.

Her eyes grew wide, body tightening as she came with loud moan. And finally I let loose, slamming harder into her and hoping she could take it but too far gone to ask, until my release hit me like a tidal wave. My head fell back against the headboard as I spent myself inside her. The fucking tightness in my chest remained.

She fell forward and clung to me, her face buried in my neck, her lips leaving kiss after kiss against my sweaty skin. I ran my hands over her back and arms but stayed away from her neck. That was still a spot she was nervous about. She softened under my touch, breathing deeply.

“I love you,” she whispered, and we both stiffened at the same time.

Her breathing hitched against my throat.

Love?

CHAPTER 19

KIARA

I love you.

Nino grew tense beneath me, and I stiffened in turn. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t believe I uttered those words. I hadn’t considered saying them because I knew Nino couldn’t say them back. Love. For him it was something unfathomable, illogical, impossible. He simulated affection for me. Every act of tenderness, every smile and soft expression was a conscious effort.

I swallowed. The words had slipped out without my intention because I’d been so relieved and happy and grateful. I had never told someone I loved them, not even my mother, and no one had ever said it to me.