Page 69 of Bellini Born

The mental image alone was enough to have me leaking. It would be a damn miracle if I didn’t come in my pants at this rate.

Keep it together, man. You’re thirty fucking years old, not some inexperienced teenager so eager to get his dick wet for the first time he blows in seconds.

That pep talk did nothing to cool the raging inferno simmering beneath my skin. And if it weren’t for these damn seat belts in the way, I’d be buried face-first in her pussy again, drowning in her juices.

Since unbuckling wasn’t an option—I refused to let history repeat itself—my fingers would have to do.

The pads of my fingertips ghosted over the soaked lace between her thighs, which she spread wider to grant me access.

Bringing my lips to her ear, I rasped, “Think you can keep quiet,dolcezza?”

Her head thrashed from side to side.

“That’s a shame,” I cooed. “Because Tino up front? His life depends on it.”

“What?” Confusion colored her dazed reply.

I bit down on her earlobe, relishing the sound of her whimper. “I’ll be forced to kill any man, no matter how loyal they are to my family, who knows what it sounds like when you come. Your pleasure belongs exclusively tome.” That last word was practically growled.

Her harsh swallow could barely be heard over the roaring of blood in my ears.

I wasn’t kidding. I would put a bullet between Tino’s eyes if he caught even the tiniest hint of a moan from my girl.

Gripping her chin, I turned Summer’s face so she could see the hard look on mine to know I meant business. “Now, I’ll ask again. Think you can keep quiet?”

As a little test, the hand between her thighs put firm pressure against her panties-clad clit.

Blue eyes sparkled and darted toward the privacy screen before returning to meet mine. Lower lip trembling, she whispered, “No.”

At least she was honest.

Forced to improvise, so my innocent Summer wouldn’t have to live with Tino’s blood on her hands, I tugged the lace thong down her thighs. Balling up the damp fabric, I first brought it to my nose, inhaling deeply, and groaning when the scent of her made my cock throb even more painfully behind my fly. Then, I tapped her lips with my index finger.

“Open.”

Without hesitation, her lips parted, and I shoved her panties inside.

“This will only help so much,” I warned. “But I have faith that you’ll try your hardest so Tino makes it home to his wife and kids tonight.”

I watched as the gravity of the situation sank in—all that was at stake—and she nodded eagerly with wide eyes.

Stroking a hand over her head and down the length of her blonde curls, I murmured, “Brava ragazza,” calling her a good girl in Italian.

A full-body shiver rolled through Summer. I’d noticed early on how it affected her when I slipped into my native tongue, so I took care to pepper more of it into my daily usage just to watch the pulse quicken at the base of her throat.

Now unencumbered by a barrier, my hand dragged through her dripping slit. Immediately, her hips bucked, and the tiniest moan slipped out around the fabric stuffed into her mouth.

I pulled back with an arched eyebrow at the sound.

She clasped a palm over her mouth to help stifle any further noises. Even consumed by lust, her compassion for others shone through. She wanted to get off but was determined not to cause any collateral damage.

Confident her extra efforts were enough that her conscience would remain clear in the morning, I dove back between her thighs. Gliding right through her slit, I bypassed the swollen little bud that I could use to have her coming in less thanfive minutes flat, and I teased her entrance before pushing two fingers deep inside.

I groaned against her neck when her silken walls gripped the digits so tightly I feared my cock might split her apart when it finally got its turn. Then I remembered she told me how much she liked it rough, and the idea of destroying this cunt, making her cry out in both pain and pleasure, made me go feral.

The shift happened suddenly. In the blink of an eye, the gentle, teasing strokes against her sensitive flesh were replaced by the ruthless pounding of my fingers into her blistering heat.

Summer’s back arched, her throat working as screams that never reached the surface rolled up the delicate column. Her bare ass lifted off the seat, searching for more while simultaneously trying to retreat from the brutal assault.