Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles 6)

Before Adamo could reach for the bottle, I sunk my fingers into his shirt and tugged him closer. He didn’t resist but he didn’t lower his head either. Instead he peered down at me. “Not done playing?”

“I’m not playing.” At least not the game he might suspect.

“Last time you left me standing there with a boner.”

“I did. But I won’t do it again.”

He leaned closer. “You sure about that? My palms are getting calloused from jerking off.”

I laughed but without warning Adamo’s kiss slammed me against the car. Passion exploded between us, wiping away any sense of caution. We tore at each other’s clothes. Adamo ripped the door open, already pulling down my jean shorts and with it my panties. I shook them off a moment before I pushed Adamo onto the backseat. I wanted, I needed to be in control. Adamo’s cock stood to attention as he rolled down a condom over it impatiently. I sank down on it and sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling of fullness. It had been more than a year since I’d been with Dima and that had been very different. Adamo’s fingers dug into my hips and I started moving my hips. My lips crashed down on his as I rode him. He thrust upward, driving himself even deeper, trying to make me relent control.

My nails dug deeper into his chest, a warning. Adamo gripped my ass cheeks then flipped us over. Falcones never relinquished control. He pushed me into the backseat with his much stronger body and slammed into me. Every thrust of him ripped away another sliver of control. With him on top of me like that, I had no way to win it back.

Losing control. Out of control.

My throat tightened immediately. I clenched and pleasure turned to pain. Adamo touched my cheek and my eyes cut to his. Concern swam in his dark eyes. He saw deeper than he was supposed to, saw things no one should. He wasn’t supposed to. “Don’t stop,” I bit out, not wanting to appear weak. I wasn’t breakable or vulnerable, I didn’t want him to treat me as such.

My lungs constricted. My body was stronger than my iron will.

Adamo rolled back over, taking me with him, so I was once again on top of him. After a moment to get a grip, I dug my nails into his chest and twisted my hip, driving his cock deeply into me. I bent down, kissing him fiercely, my eyes clenching shut against his inquisitive gaze. His palms cupped my breasts, and his fingers tugged at my piercing. I gasped, my eyes flying open.

“I love that piercing.”

My lips fell open when he flicked it again and my pussy clenched tightly around him. I was getting closer and closer, with no way to stop, and for once I didn’t try to grapple for control over my body. I let it loose even if it scared me.

Adamo’s hips drove upwards as I twisted my hips. I clutched his shoulders, my eyes ripping open as a wave of pleasure tore through me. I couldn’t stop it, could only submit to its force. I cried out, my belly constricting, my nipples hardening even more.

I almost blacked out when Adamo’s cock expanded under his own orgasm.

Overwhelmed, I fell forward. My face pressed against his chest as I drew in sharp breath after sharp breath. Adamo’s hand slid over my back gently. The caress felt good, gave my tumultuous insides an anchor. I allowed myself to enjoy his touch and our still intimate connection.

I could have stayed like this forever, listening to his racing heartbeat, but eventually I sat up. Adamo was still buried in me but he was slowly growing soft. I lifted off him and scrambled backwards and out of the car. Adamo didn’t try to stop me. He didn’t say anything at all, only removed the condom and knotted it. I fumbled for my clothes in the near dark and awkwardly put them on. They were dusty and stuck to my sweaty skin.

I looked at Adamo, and again part of me wanted to stay, to crawl back into his car and stretch out on the backseat beside him. I trusted that side of me even less than I trusted Adamo.

I wasn’t sure what to say. I’d never screwed someone I wasn’t dating, and I didn’t know how to handle Adamo, or my feelings. Eventually I just turned around to walk away.

Before I was out of earshot, Adamo said, “Good night, Dinara.”

Until I saw Adamo again the next day, I wasn’t sure how I’d react. If I’d try to bring our relationship back to a less intimate state. Yet, the moment he joined me in the morning with his own bowl as I ate my oatmeal and quietly ate beside me, I knew I didn’t want to take a step back. I wanted more.