Page 34

He expected a smart reply, a twist of her lips.

Instead, he got a soft look bordering on tenderness.

She leaned in to initiate the kiss this time.

He felt that sweetness all through his body at that simple touch, at the awareness that they’d crossed a threshold into her seeking his affection instead of running from it.

“I’m done eating,” she whispered.

“Are you? I might have something for you if you’re not,” he growled and kissed her back. She laughed.

He was about to swipe the trays with the empty dishes and cups onto the floor so he could commence feasting on her, but she stopped him before he could.

“Hey! You are not gonna make a huge mess for somebody else to clean up,” she reprimanded, and he rolled his eyes at her.

“Fine.”

He carried the trays outside and left them outside in the hallway while Vanessa went to the bathroom. He was on the couch when she came out, freshened up, but still wearing that robe.

“ Marone , don’t tell me you’re back to the ‘don’t-touch-me clothes,’” he groaned with a wince.

Vanessa stopped in front of him and ran her fingertips down the side of his face to his jaw. She stepped closer in between his legs with a speculative look that took in his relaxed body, appreciating his chest, his abs and the growing tent in his shorts.

“See something you like?” he drawled, leaning back, spreading his legs and stretching his arm along the curved back of the sofa. The fingers of his other hand slid up her bare thigh under the terry cloth.

“Maybe. I’m not sure.” Vanessa bent those sexy legs one at a time until she was kneeling on the carpet between his thighs. “I think I need to take a closer look.”

“Alright. Go ahead,” he said, voice striving to sound nonchalant. But he was about to bust just looking at those sexy ass lips of hers, so shapely and full.

Her first task was getting his shorts and boxers off.

He helped by raising his hips slightly off the cushion, Vanessa’s eyes taking in the hard dick that sprang up when she pulled the clothes off his ass.

He almost couldn’t contain the hard, loud pounding thing in his chest, rattling its bone cage in wild excitement over what was about to happen.

Santino waited while she pushed the material down his legs.

She stared at his dick the whole time till she just leaned over and took the head in her mouth.

Closed her eyes, sucked him in deeper while he dizzied and his mind emptied.

The insanely wet heat of her tongue danced around the tip, probing the slit and then she switched to a hard sucking and stroking him in her fist.

“Damn, baby… damn . Look how good you suck my dick. So fuckin’ good.

” Santino wasn’t in control of his cock, not at all, and his head tipped back against the couch when she opened that throat and swallowed.

“It’s coming. It’s coming.” He bobbed her head down on it a few times, his hips pumping, jerking, mindless, mindless…

so fucking good…she was too fucking good. “Yes, baby. Take it just like that.”

Vanessa knew what he liked. Knew that sometimes he was good with a straight shot into the depths of her mouth, but more often he’d liked this, this , him gripping his cock himself right at the entrance of her open mouth so he could watch the cum spill into it.

He didn’t just like it, he loved it, and she did too, savoring his flavor as she eagerly waited for him to give her more.

His body was fucking wracked as he convulsed again and again onto that wicked, welcoming tongue and rubbed the spurting head against those plump lips and her cheek.

Finally, when he had nothing left in him and was shivering uncontrollably, she stared up at him.

Her lovely face was as dazed as he felt while he cradled it with his other hand, and wiped off the remnants of his release with his thumb.

“Damn,” he breathed, and they laughed softly. Her eyes were shining; she had her forearms balanced on his thighs and her dimples were in full effect. “ Damn .”

Vanessa was almost purring. “Glad you liked it.” She rose to her feet, but he caught her by the wrist, carefully grasping the delicate bones under his fingers.

“Where are you going?” he asked, keeping hold.

“To get ready for the day.”

“Yeah, but first.”

“First?”

Their eyes held. She grinned, and those white teeth and dimples had him standing to attention like she hadn’t already brought him to a fantastic release.

Santino stood, gripped the belt of her robe in one hand and tugged, hard, until it untied and fell to each side.

He gripped the lapels of her robe and dragged her up close to his face for a long, hard, probing kiss.

Santino had known she’d wanted ferocity last night but had been afraid to ask for it.

He was prepared to give it to her now. He’d taken it easy on her for that first time, but all bets were off as the storm picked up outside.

Powerful wind and rain lashed the windows as he walked a semi-circle around her, put his hand to the small of her back, and shoved her forward toward the couch so that her knees were up against the bottom cushions.

“Get up there,” he said. There was gravel in his voice, his throat, his cock.

Vanessa hesitated. He slapped her ass with a smart, cracking sound.

His dick pulsed harder at that noise, so he did it again, then again, while she climbed up and gripped the back of the couch and took it, took it.

Obeying his command didn’t earn her a reprieve.

He continued, loving the sharp sounds he elicited with each strike on her flesh, loved making that ass shake, only stopping to check the wetness he’d generated in her pussy.

His fingers came back coated. He licked them clean of her nectar, aligned himself with her entrance, then drove in with one brutal thrust.

Fucking glorious.

Her pussy was gushing, sweet and sticky, and everything good in the world was wrapped around his length. No fantasy could compare to this excellence. It was blowing his mind to think he’d gone without this for three years, three years . How had he survived?

He still couldn’t forget the pain of that, and he was suddenly overwhelmed remembering the emotions of that time, feeling it all at once. Three years needing her, three years craving this.

It couldn’t happen again. He was going to make sure she’d never fucking think of leaving him. He’d show her everything she wouldn’t be able to live without.

As if echoing the tumult of his thoughts and the tempest in his body, lightning seized the sky, and everything went white, then darker again. The thunder followed, and clapped loudly outside the tall windows.

Through it all, he fucked her, fucked his love into her, pounded his need inside her.

Held onto those hips and pumped, relentless, while she bounced back on him frantically.

She chased her high on his dick, which he swore had never been harder with her wetness sliding up and down him. He watched it happen, mind reeling.

Reaching forward, he tethered her to him, wrapping his fingers in the long sable strands of her curls and gathering a tight handful.

He anchored himself, planting his cock in her until there was nowhere left to go, pressing forward with such force that she couldn’t move.

Fuck, fuck , being this deep in her pussy and being bathed in that hot honey pouring on him was another level of absolute dark delight.

He was balanced now, in control, in a wide stance with his feet firmly planted on the floor, her hair gripped in one hand, her ass immobilized against his hips.

She was fully impaled on his swollen cock.

He pressed her knees open wider with one of his, loving how she trembled, then began to move again, needing to wring more moans out of her.

“Is it good for you, sweetheart? You’re so good to me. The best. You’re perfect.”

His rasp of his praise drew an answering unsteady moan from her. “It’s too good. Too good.”

Panting, he ran his free hand around her right thigh, up between her legs and found her clit.

He pressed it between his thumb and forefinger.

Vanessa whimpered as he squeezed and flicked her bud, still thrusting, chasing that glorious high with her.

He released a harsh shout as she sobbed, “ Santino! ” into the back of the couch.

And how she throbbed on him, how she pulsed and moaned while she drenched him in that good, good stuff.

“ Vanessa ,” he groaned, growled, whatever fucking word applied. It wasn’t even a word, it was a sound, one that came from deep inside him, only with her, only for her.

When he’d poured every last drop inside her, coating her with his seed, he remained embedded, hoping something would take root and grow. Then he pressed her into the couch with his body to stop her shivering, holding her down the way she needed it, the way he needed to cover her.

Would this ever stop being so fucking wonderful?

He doubted it.

“Do you love me yet?” he asked, pressing a kiss against her shoulder.

Her muffled sound against the couch was full of amusement. “Check back with me on Saturday.”

Playfully, he bit her shoulder. “My little wifey, so stubborn. You know you do.”

Santino finally withdrew to take her to the bathroom for a little clean up, sighing when she said she needed to use the commode alone. When she came out, they lounged naked and lazy on the couch for a few hours.

It was crazy how they could switch so seamlessly from high heat to watching TV and talking, laughing to jokes only the two of them would understand.

Then he drew her a bath laced with oils that made the room smell like a field of hot flowers.

It was big enough for two. Of course they fucked in that tub, even though she winced and accused him of making her sore, a blame he gladly accepted as long as he could stay sheathed in her heat.

After that, they were satisfied, at least for a while. They were also starving. They had lunch in the restaurant downstairs and headed out with umbrellas into the rainy late afternoon.

“Oh, I wanted to check this out,” Santino said as they stopped in front of an art gallery, rubbing her back over her cute olive-green shirt with the pink flowers stitched in.

Since their morning session, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her for longer than minutes at a time.

It was a fresh torment looking at the long, silken deep mahogany legs flowing from her short denim skirt, remembering how they’d wrapped around his waist and knowing that stroking them in public was not allowed.

“Today seems like a good day for an art gallery. I kinda doubt the outdoor performances will still be on.”

The facade of the gallery had been relatively small, just one big storefront window. Inside, the space was narrow but deep, with long walls stretching to the back featuring comic-style sketches by Canadian graphic artists.

“This place is right up your alley,” Vanessa remarked, examining a series by an artist from Alberta.

“I know.” They walked the narrow path of dark hardwood flooring and painted white brick walls to check out the sketches on one side, and then the other.

“I was thinking about what you said the other day, about my stuff. I think I might do that. Get somebody to help me write the story while I flesh out the panels. It’s gonna take a while but I think I’d like to. ”

“Really?” Vanessa said, her eyes lit up with excitement. “I’m glad. You really are talented. People should see it. Would you still stay with FDNY?”

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t see why I can’t do both. It’ll be nice to have something else outside of the department. Maybe by the time I’m too old to climb up and down ladders, if I’m not the chief I can be another Stan Lee or Bill Kirby. Not that I could compare myself to them.”

He was joking about either possibility, but he experienced a deep thrill when Vanessa came closer and laid a kiss on his cheek. “I wouldn’t dare. But I agree. It’s nice to have something else to aspire to. Chief or artist, you can do anything if you decide it’s what you want.”

Santino found himself heated and reddening like a fool at her words and that kiss, simple as it was. If she kept doing that, he’d have to presume she was finally on board with them as a couple again. He stroked her cheek.

“Let’s see what’s on the second level.”

The layout upstairs was similar to the first floor, except this level had a small lounge area with big, red cushioned chairs and white cubed tables.

A man was sitting on one of the seats facing the window and the rain-drenched streets outside.

Reddish-gold hair. Bearded profile and a ruddy complexion.

Even seated, he looked tall, thick, with brutish muscles in a long-sleeved T-shirt.

Vanessa was in the middle of speaking when her words trailed off at the sight of the man.

They both stared, stock still, as he turned from the window and looked square at them.

As if he’d known all along they were there.

Green eyes, sharp as knives, slid from their shocked faces to their joined hands and sliced through them.

The smile he gave them was feral, and full of utter contempt.

It was Scott Malone, in the flesh.