Twisted Fate (Dark Heart 2)
I watch as he cuts a big piece, slides it my way, and gets himself a smaller one. He forks a piece off, chews it slowly. I watch his eyes widen.
“It’s good.” Man, he looks so gorgeous.
My stomach flip flops as I try a bite of mine, even though I haven’t finished my huge slice of pizza. I nod as I chew, and then I have a sip of cider because the cake feels like it’s stuck in my throat. “Pretty good.”
I look over at him, and he’s looking at me. I swear, all he does is blink. And then we’re kissing.* * *LucaI’ve done so many dangerous things. Even as our group has been reformed—by me—my day-to-day is still full of endeavors most people would consider dangerous. But as I lose myself in Elise, my fingers in her hair and her hand stroking my shoulders, I know I have never risked as much as I am in this moment.
She is small and soft and so, so perfect as I pull her onto my lap. She straddles me, kissing my throat, and I arch back, almost flipping the chair over. I hoist her onto my shoulder as I push the chair back with my legs, and then I feign a jog toward the bedroom.
She’s laughing, the sound filling the small cabin, and I’m thrown back to another night where we both broke rules. At Jace’s family’s place, I picked her up when she made it down that rope ladder and ran toward the water. That night, we sat on the dock, in between two boats, and I remember we took our time.
I know, before I even toss her on the bed, that this is going to be different. Whereas earlier was a spark that fanned into an unrelenting lust, tonight is just a goddamn wildfire. I’m on top of her; she’s pulling off my clothes, and I’m laughing because my body feels like it’s coming alive.
Then she shoves me down and kisses my throat till I’m moaning, shivering, rocking my hips. She’s rubbing her leg against me, biting my mouth, teasing my nipple, and I can’t help yelling out. I think I’m gonna come…but she jumps off me like she did this morning, stretching out on her back, pulling her breasts out of the top of her bra, pushing it down before I crawl atop her, unfasten it.
We kiss until we’re groaning, and then I’m nipping and licking, kissing and sucking, making her writhe like I’ve pictured for—how has it been this long?—more than a decade. Her pert breasts are fuller, heavy, but she likes my mouth just the same. By the time I reach between her legs, working my fingers under a sweet little red thong, she’s so wet that it’s soaking through the fabric.
I look up at her from between her spread legs, making my voice a whisper over her soft thigh as I rasp, “Tell me what you want, la mia rosa…”
She sinks her fingers into my hair, pulling. “I want you to make me come.” She rubs my head, as if saying sorry for the brutal tugging, and then she’s got her leg moving between mine. She’s teasing with her knee and I’m—again—about to come from that and from her cunt under my mouth, from my tongue tracing up and down her swollen slit, and from the way she feels around my fingers: hot and tight and perfect. We’re both moaning. I’m so drunk on lust I can barely lick and suck her, but it doesn’t matter. Every time my tongue rolls over her, she cries out. I can tell she’s close, and when she’s bending her legs, when she’s lifting her hips, her face is flushed, and I’m not sure who’ll get off first, she presses her palm to my forehead and whispers, “Luca…”
I look up, and her fingers stroke my forehead. “Do you have a condom?”
“Mm?”
Her eyes look glazed. “Do you have a condom, cuore?”
There’s this second where the sound fades out—where I can’t comprehend her words—and then I’m bowing back over her. Her foot rubs down my leg. “Luca…ho bisogno di fare sesso con te.”
“Say it in English.” I feel dizzy as she smiles, a little pink on both her cheekbones.
“Fuck me,” she says hoarsely.
I wrap my arm around her waist and press my face against her hip.
“I want to feel you,” she whispers.
I suck a breath in. “I don’t have one.”
“Does that matter?” Her hands stroke through my hair. “Does it matter for you?”
I’m trying not to look at her, but now I have to. Is she asking if…
“Would it be okay…from your end?” Her voice is so soft I can barely hear it.
“You should never skip the condom, rosa.”
“It’s okay for me. No risk here on my end. And I’m on birth control.”