Blood Always

24

“I need more,” she whispered, releasing her confession into the night. “I can give you more. Make you come until white sparks blind your vision and you writhe with pleasure. But I need to hear the words first. I’m not saying it’s forever. I don’t know what the future holds, but for now, while you’re swimming in my bloodstream, I need to know there’s no one else.” I rubbed her scalding cheeks, sliding my thumb beneath the fabric of her thong and pulling the garment snug against her swollen entrance. Her breath hitched at the pressure. “There’s no one … no one else. Please, I need to come.” Triumphant cymbals clapped and clanged in my head, sending a surge of endorphins through every cell in my body. Pre-c*m oozed from the head of my c**k, my own need to come pounding in my ears. I yanked her thong down, wishing I had a better view of her folds. Next time. There would be plenty of opportunities now that we’d crossed that threshold. I brought my hand down twice more, once on each cheek. Maria abandoned all restraint, spreading her thighs and moaning loudly. I didn’t release her, not because I thought she’d fight, but because that’s how we both wanted it. Needed it. “I’m going to touch you now. Once my fingers are inside you, there’s no more running. Understand?” She nodded frantically, and it was all the permission I needed. My fingers slid into her folds, gliding easily in the moisture dripping from her warm cunt. “f**k, Maria. You feel half this good when my c**k is inside you, and I’ll never want to leave.” Still leaning over her back, I slid my thumb inside her entrance while my fingers drifted around on either side of her c**t, rubbing and pinching the delicate nub. Unable to help myself, I rocked my erection against her hip, my belly twisting with crippling desire. I sped the rhythm of my fingers for long seconds, just to withdraw them, allowing the cool air to reach her p***y and the nerves to crave my touch again. Sometimes I slipped two fingers inside her, stretching her narrow entrance and teasing my c**k to a point of masochism. When she wriggled and writhed with the building of her orgasm, I brought my hand back and let loose another slap against her bright pink cheeks. I allowed the sensations to build like a conductor, ensuring the crescendo was perfectly timed. “Please, De Luca. I need it, please.” Her breathy plea was a hair away from a sob and the cue I’d been waiting for. I rained down attention onto her c**t. Circling. Rubbing. Squeezing. Within seconds, her thighs began to quiver and shake, her muscles flexing and straining as release overtook her. She cried out a strangled scream, making my own thighs tremble with overwhelming lust. Slowly, I milked the last waves of pleasure from her core with a dozen more gentle circles around her bulging nub. When I finally released her hands, they stayed where I’d held them. My mighty Valkyrie warrior was utterly spent. She’d given me all she had, and I’d lapped it up greedily. I pulled her upright, and before her legs could give out, I scooped her into my arms. She didn’t fight me. In fact, she wrapped her arms loosely around me and rested her forehead in the crook of my neck. My chest ached with the need to pound my pecks Tarzan style—the conquering hero come home with his mighty kill. I found my way to her bedroom. It was swathed in deep grays with rich, purple accents. The purple was somewhat of a surprise—more feminine than I would have guessed. Using the hand that held her legs, I pulled back the duvet on her bed, relieved it wasn’t covered in a mountain of throw pillows. I laid her down and pulled the covers up to her chest. She was still in her dress and hadn’t removed her makeup, but she was past caring. “You’re leaving.” Her whispered words were a statement, not a question. There was no accusation in her tone nor request for me to stay. I leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead. “You need some rest.” I didn’t offer her any more than that because I had no clue what to say. What was building between us was uncharted territory for the both of us. I needed a chance to breathe, just as much as she did. I wasn’t ready to make any professions or reassurances when I wasn’t sure myself. The best I could do was tuck her in and give us both time to recover. That point of demarcation had come and gone. We were now firmly in the “after” phase. What that would bring, only time would tell. OceanofPDF.com Chapter 9 Maria There’s truly nothing like the lights of Vegas. The neon glow is a field of wildflowers on steroids, each burst of color claiming your eye, challenging you not to look away. The vibrant hues of Andy Warhol combined with the post-impressionistic dots and swirls of van Gogh’s Starry Night yielded a living canvas impossible to ignore. Add in a little alcohol, and it was easy to get lost in Sin City. I would never tell Giada, but the trip was exactly what I needed. We decided to plan our getaway for the weekend before my wedding—almost two weeks after my unabashed finger f*****g by Matteo. I’d mulled over the incident a hundred times in my head and still couldn’t fathom what had gotten into me. All I could figure was it had to have been the alcohol. Never in my life had I allowed a man to spank me. Hell, I usually ran the show in the bedroom. Most men loved that, and it meant I remained in control. It also meant I rarely respected the men I slept with, but that kept things simple. No messy emotions to trudge through afterward. It also meant s*x had never been good enough to jackknife my life and send me skidding off my charted course. I couldn’t seem to fight whatever it was that existed between us. It wasn’t corporeal. It didn’t have a name or a diagnosis. There was no antidote or killing blow that would sever the ties. And the worst part was, it was growing. Mutating. Warping my thoughts and controlling my actions. The concept of someone spanking me had always seemed demeaning and intolerable, but when I felt the delicious sting of his palm against my skin, electric need pricked at every surface of my body like a thousand tiny needles. I had to restrain myself from pressing my ass in the air as if I were a stray cat in heat. My senses had never felt so alive. So hyperaware.