He went back on his knees and glared up at his wife. “You could have been killed. Dario could have shot you.”
“You could have been killed, and Dario would never have shot me. He knew where I was.”
“The others didn’t know where you were.”
“I want to go home. The cops will be here soon, and we can’t possibly control the situation,” she whispered. “Hurry, Valentino.” She looked at the men surrounding him. “Please get him out of here. Clear everyone out of here, Dario.”
“We’re on it, Emme,” Dario assured. “We’ll meet you as soon as possible.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I’m sorry, Val,” Emmanuelle said softly, from where she lay sprawled over the top of him. Naked. Her head on his chest. Her knees on either side of his hips.
Valentino kept one hand on her bare bottom, that smooth skin, rubbing the curve, drifting in a sea of peace. Sheer peace. He didn’t get that often. His body completely sated. His woman wrapped around him. His mind still, not looping at warp speed, trying to drive him insane. This was his kind of paradise. His personal version. He didn’t give a damn where he was, as long as he had this woman with him.
“For what, Princess?” He murmured it, without opening his eyes, letting himself rest. Needing just a few more minutes with her before they started the insanity all over again.
“When I was so ridiculous with you the other night. Listening to Marge. To my mother. To anyone but you. I won’t do that anymore. Even if I’m totally insecure sometimes and don’t feel beautiful or sexy, I promise it will be you I listen to even when Eloisa’s voice is in the back of my head whispering that I’ll never be good enough.”
She rubbed her cheek on his chest and then pressed her lips over his heart. “I love you so much, Val. Sometimes it hurts, I love you so much. It scares me to love someone the way I love you.”
His hand crept up her spine to the nape of her neck to massage the tension knots there, easing them out of her. “That’s exactly how I feel about you, Emme. Maybe we’re supposed to feel that way about each other, so over-the-top crazy we can’t bear to be apart. We tear each other’s clothes off the second we’re alone. All that so the shadow creeper doesn’t get loose.”
A little shiver crept down her spine. “Don’t even think about him. It might make him real again. I haven’t noticed him when our shadows are on the wall together, and I deliberately looked for him.”
“I looked, too. That’s why I think maybe we’re supposed to be as wild about each other as we are. We feed each other’s desire and emotions.”
She moved in a suggestive little glide down his body. “You could feed my desires anytime, Valentino. My emotions would do a happy dance.”
He had no choice but to watch her through hooded eyes. They needed to be up and moving. They’d already stolen time for themselves this morning. He’d woken her with his mouth between her legs. He loved the taste of her. How wild it made her. How wet. Those moans of hers. Her body so responsive. She liked his tongue and teeth. His fingers. He gave her multiple orgasms before he took her hard, determined to prolong his time, his pleasure with her as long as possible.
They fell asleep again, woke and he put her on her hands and knees, intending to take her fast, but he couldn’t resist playing. Teasing her. Making her wait. Bringing her to the brink of an orgasm over and over until she was pleading with him. Begging him. Demanding. Threatening him. He loved when she got to the point of threatening him. They collapsed together, and Val had pulled her on top of him, while they rested, just because he needed to feel her surrounding him the way she did.
There was something decadent about watching his woman crawl down his body with such purpose, her eyes hungry, wanton, the blue so dark with desire for him—for his cock. She worshiped his cock. What man didn’t appreciate that? He loved her wild hair, but he bunched the thick mass in his fist, sweeping it out of his way so he could watch as she kissed the insides of his thighs, taking little nips with her teeth, driving the blood, the fire, straight to his groin.
It didn’t seem to matter that he should be drained dry, that her body had milked every drop of seed from him, there was always more when she was like this. She brought him to life with very little trouble. Stroking his thighs, kissing, nipping. Making his heart stop with the way she took her time. Her tongue tracing his sac, lapping, sucking, pressing kisses over his balls while her fingernails ever so gently raked down.