Page 17 of The Enforcer’s Revenge (Untamed Hearts #4)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Manhattan, New York

B rianna had been sleeping extra hard over the last few weeks.

She was practicing full-time for a performance at school.

She had one of the leads, which meant it was hours and hours of work.

She ached in ways she hadn’t since middle school, and when she finally fell into bed, she passed out and slept like the dead.

Which was why it took her a long time to be forcibly pulled out of the hazy fog of sleep as someone kissed her left foot and caressed her bare calf. Tino was out of state working, and she wasn’t expecting him home until sometime midweek.

She didn’t fully notice he was with her until she felt his lips against the back of her neck. His rough hands ran down to the curve of her waist, and he pulled the blanket off her. Then he slipped a hand between her bare thighs.

“Naked,” Tino whispered against her ear. “Naughty girl.”

She smiled and buried her face into her pillow as Tino pressed against her bare back.

He still wore a shirt and jeans. His hair was wet against her neck as he licked her shoulder.

That should’ve been her first warning, but she was more than a little distracted by the tightening coil of need as he rubbed her clit, making her wet way too easily.

He kept kissing her neck, and Brianna reached behind her, grabbed his wet hair, and held him there. She shifted back against him, quivering and fighting for release past the heaviness of sleep.

“Sei bellissima,” he moaned and stopped caressing her clit to run his fingers between her folds teasingly, leaving her right on the edge. “So wet for me.” He traced the lines of her pussy, making her shift under him impatiently until he laughed. “You wanna beg me for it?”

“Stop being a tease,” she panted because he was terrible when he wanted to be. He could leave her sweaty and begging for hours. “’M sleepy. Please.”

“No, tell me how much you want it first.” He bit her shoulder, almost a little too rough, but she was more focused on the pleasure, and he obviously knew it. “I think I need to hear you beg for it.”

“Oh my God.” She tugged his hair harder. “Tino, no—” She gasped when he pushed one finger in deep, making her arch into the thrust of it. She let go of his hair to grab at the sheets. “Jesus.”

“I’m mean tonight,” he confessed like a crime and laved his tongue over the wound on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

She missed the other warning signs, but that one was neon, like a red flag safe word and a cry for help all tied up in one.

Her body went soft and submissive almost on its own accord because this wasn’t the first time she’d had Tino crawl into her bed, hair still wet from a shower, like he wanted to wash away his sins before he touched her.

She spread her legs, letting him tease her rather than get her off, and asked in a gentle but clear voice, “Tino, who am I?”

He didn’t answer her.

He pushed a second finger in deep, stretching her, making it ache so good she almost forgot.

She tilted her head on the pillow and moaned, closing her eyes at the surge of pleasure, but still, she fought to cling to sanity.

Not for herself. She never minded it mean like he thought she should, but the fallout was always so difficult.

“I want you to say my name.” Brianna bit her lip to keep herself level, to fight against the ecstasy that wanted to rise up and consume her.

“Say it. I need you to say it.” If only he wasn’t so damn good at making her stop thinking, especially like this.

Tino thought he was being mean, but that was not exactly what she’d call it.

Raw, maybe. Savage, most certainly. Unguarded and exposed, without a doubt, and she never wanted him to be exposed in a way that made him upset the next day, so she panted and snapped, “Tino! Say it!”

“Mine. That’s what we’ll call you,” he breathed against her ear. “You’re mine tonight.” He kept finger fucking her, but then he started doing it in a way that made the ache almost too intense as he said, “Aren’t you?”

She didn’t say anything. She was too caught up with everything to try.

Tino fisted her hair with his other hand and growled, “Admit you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” She gave up and let herself come instead. The ecstasy crashed into her, and all she did was moan. “Oh God.”

She wasn’t sure why it always hit her a little harder like this, stealing her breath as the pleasure washed over her in wave after wave, leaving even her fingers and toes tingling.

Maybe it was the extra edge of danger Tino exuded on the mean nights, like the rush from a rollercoaster, she was almost dizzy from the high of it.

It left her weak in the aftermath, lazy and dazed as the glare of city lights glimmered in from her window, making her realize it was sometime past midnight but nowhere near sunrise.

Distantly, she heard the clank of a gun hitting her nightstand.

Then, Tino was pulling his shirt off and kicking aside his jeans before he was back over her.

His bare skin was warm against hers, comforting.

Still, she knew better than to turn over and coddle him, to run her fingers through his hair and hold him while he fucked her slow, savoring having him in her arms as the pleasure built.

That was for another night.

Tonight, he took her hard from behind, his fingers tight in her hair and his grip bruising on her hip. Still so sensitive from the first orgasm, the pleasure was white-hot, and she cried out despite the fact that she had a roommate who probably wouldn’t appreciate it.

She wanted to hide, to bury her face in the pillow and muffle how intensely he could drag the bliss out of her on his bad nights. There was a part of her that didn’t want it to feel so fucking good, not like this, not when she wasn’t even totally certain he knew it was her.

She couldn’t hide, though, not with his tight hold on her hair, so she grabbed the headboard, fisting it with white-knuckled determination.

When he pulled out and pushed back in, making a second cry of pleasure burst out of her, Brianna still managed to suck in a hard breath and say, “Say my name, Tino. Say it. Please.”

He thrust in her again.

And again.

Claiming her.

Making it so very good and leaving her chanting, “Please. Please. Please,” as the headboard thumped against the wall until she finally climaxed again.

Even if she didn’t want to.

Even if she was shattering all the rules by doing it.

And she dragged Tino down with her, until he was moaning against her neck and saying in her hair, “God, sweetheart.”

She squeezed her eyes shut tighter because she knew then he didn’t know it was her.

Not really. Not in that moment. He called other women sweetheart , but it wasn’t something he used romantically with her.

Tonight, she was a figment of Brianna, a fantasy Tino had used for so long to protect himself.

It didn’t happen often, but sometimes she lost him to the past.

Life hurt him too badly, and he slipped through her fingers.

Temporarily.

It was always temporary, she reminded herself, as she rolled over once the wave of bliss ebbed away and left them sweaty and sticky in the aftermath. Knowing now she could be anything, and it really didn’t matter, she whispered, “I like to hold you, Tino.”

Tino fell over her and rested his face between her tits. Brianna wrapped her arms around him and caressed his wet hair while he worked on catching his breath.

She stared at the ceiling, feeling angrier than she wanted in that moment.

Not at Tino. Never ever at Tino. But she was still so very angry at the combined efforts of Cosa Nostra that did this to him.

“You’re my favorite,” Tino said into the darkness as he ran his fingers up from the curve of her sides to the edge of her right breast. He circled her nipple, making it tighten for him. “You really are beautiful.”

She sighed and held him closer. “Thank you.”

He caressed her hair next, fingering it before he confessed, not for the first time, “Redheads are my favorite flavor.”

She smiled, feeling the tears sting her eyes. “Then lucky me.”

“Don’t tell anyone, though,” he added.

“I won’t.” She kept stroking his wet hair, pushing it away from his face. “It’ll be our secret.”

He let her hold him for a few minutes, though she understood it was mostly because she asked. She could feel the energy in him still humming under the surface, and she wasn’t surprised when he asked, “Can I use your shower?”

“Yeah, sure.” She let him go even if everything in her wanted to keep him close.

When he slipped out of bed, she suggested, “Why don’t you stay the night?

” He hesitated, his dark eyes unnaturally bright as he stood there naked in front of her, so she pressed, “It’s what I want, Tino.

You don’t have anywhere else to be. You can stay with me. ”

He shifted and looked to the bathroom. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Go take your shower.”

He left like he couldn’t get away fast enough, and she wondered if that was what he used to do with his real clients.

Years ago, when he was a slave to others’ needs instead of a slave to his gun and the bidding of the mafia.

Surely, those women noticed how desperately he needed to wash the sex off himself.

She suspected none of them did.

Likely none of them cared enough to notice.

Brianna used a towel to clean up rather than get in the shower with him. She tied on her robe and opened her door. The smell of cigarette smoke hit her when she walked into the living room, but Carina wasn’t there. She must’ve been smoking in her bedroom recently and was probably still awake.

Another complication Brianna didn’t need.