Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles 6)

Fuck, her lips on my cock felt like paradise. I moaned when Dinara started massaging my balls as she worked only my tip with her lips and tongue. When she started massaging the sensitive area behind my balls, pleasure radiated through my body and my balls started to tighten. I wouldn’t be able to hold out long if she kept it up. I’d been fantasizing about her too long and wasn’t prepared for this surprise blowjob.

She pulled her head back, smacking her lips.

I groaned. “I’m close.”

Dinara gripped my hips and rose to her feet. In the dim light, the curl of her lips mocked me. “I know, Adamo.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Even a Falcone needs to learn patience.”

She took a step back. I was frozen, my balls still pulsating, my cock desperate to spurt out a load. With a last smile, she turned around and walked off. I stared at the sway of her hips until her body merged with the shadows and she was swallowed by the dark.

The inside lighting of her car flared up, illuminating Dinara, a tantalizing sight that now taunted me. She slipped into the backseat and before she closed the door, she glanced back at me, then the darkness absorbed her again.

I hadn’t been left hanging, or rather standing since my first sort-off-girlfriend Harper many years ago. Fuck, she was toying with me. Blood still filled my cock. I was too fucking turned on to hope my erection would disappear any time soon.I clutched my cock angrily and rubbed hard, almost painfully. If someone came by, they’d get a show they wouldn’t soon forget.

It didn’t take long for me to shoot out my load all across the dusty ground. I shoved my dick back in and zipped up my pants before I kicked dirt over the spot where I suspected my cum had landed. I reached for the cigarette package on the hood but touched cold metal. “Fuck,” I growled. Not only had Dinara left me standing here with a fucking boner, she’d also stolen my cigarettes. I was done handling her with kid gloves. In the next race, she’d get to know the real Adamo Falcone on the race track, and next time she’d be the one with a dripping pussy.

My spine tingled with animal fear as I turned my back on Adamo, my muscles taut with anticipation, ready to take flight or fight. It wasn’t that I expected Adamo to rush after me, grab me and force me to finish what I’d started, but my body preferred to expect the worst. That way people had a hard time catching you off-guard. No steps rang out, nor did Adamo call me nasty names.

I meandered my way past the other race cars until I reached my Toyota. I opened the door, then I couldn’t resist to risk a glance over my shoulder at the man I’d left with a raging hard-on. Adamo, too, was looking my way. Even in the dim light I could tell that he hadn’t bothered closing his pants yet.

I didn’t think it would be this difficult to walk away from Adamo, from sucking his dick no less, but I’d enjoyed the play of power, had gotten high on it. If there was one thing I had trouble resisting then it was a good high. I hadn’t expected it to be like this with Adamo, but he filled me with an explosive energy only drugs or racing had done so far.

I climbed into the backseat, kicked off my boots, then threw the door shut, cloaking myself in darkness. I locked the car, reached for the Glock under the front seat and put it on my belly as I stretched out on my back. Sleeping in the car wasn’t comfortable, but sharing a tent with Dima seemed unwise after our recent argument. I didn’t even know when he’d be back, or if he’d be back at all. Maybe once things had calmed down. But I actually preferred to keep an eye on my car even at night. Many racers had a lot to lose when they didn’t make the podium. The money up for grabs meant salvation for them, a way to pay off their debtors (probably also Camorra, or maybe Bratva) or post bail for a family member. Despair made people do foolish things. I wouldn’t give them the chance to slit my tires or cut my brake hose.

I was still wide awake though, so I peered out of the window. Adamo kicked the ground before he, too, climbed into his car. He was pissed. I couldn’t help but smile. I wondered what a pissed Adamo would look like, how he’d race.

My body longed to return to him, to continue what I’d begun. My panties stuck to me with my arousal, something I hadn’t expected from giving Adamo pleasure. I wanted to be close to Adamo but at the same time his closeness shook me up.