Page 51 of Where Quiet Hearts Scream (Dark Hearts #3)

S erafina

I watch the old man saunter back to the gate as though he hasn’t just made a lethal enemy of his own son and the most powerful man in Massachusetts.

Despite the shock I got in New York with the news of Papa’s marriage to Antonia Di Santo, I feel grateful for my father.

I can’t imagine what it must have been like for Andreas and Benito to grow up at the scrawny hands of that despicable person.

Andreas is frighteningly calm as we walk up the steps and through the front door. I take off my shoes and drop my purse then follow him into the kitchen.

“Are you okay?”

He nods once then slips his cell phone out of his pocket and puts it to his ear.

“Benito,” he says, solemnly. “The old man is alive.”

There’s a long, deathly pause at the other end, then my husband continues. “Here, in Boston. He was at my house.”

A few more words are spoken, then Andreas hangs up.

“My brother’s going to come stay with us for a few days. He’s leaving the city now.”

“Of course,” I nod. “I’ll have Alessandro prepare dinner.”

Andreas places his phone on the counter and walks round the island toward me. He slides his arms around my waist and buries his face in my shoulder.

“How the fuck are you so perfect?”

“You make me perfect,” I whisper into his ear.

“Welcome to my family,” he grunts.

I reach up and tug his head backward so I can look him deep in the eye. “I am your family.”

I look into his face and see so many emotions there of an intensity that, if I were him, in the past would have driven me to cut my skin.

He looks tired, livid, bitter and painfully heated.

I want to alleviate some of it. I want to help. I also want to do something for him since he’s done so much for me.

I keep my eyes hooked on his as I lift shaking fingers to unbuckle his belt. His lids flare when he realizes what I’m doing, but he doesn’t stop me.

I thread the leather strap through the buckle then start on his fly. His obsessive gaze doesn’t waver as I release the zipper and then his pants drop to the floor. His lips part and his tongue ventures out to wet them, his chest heaving thickly.

I curl my fingers over the waistband of his tight boxers and pull them down. We both drop our gaze to his cock and I wrap my hand around it, feeling it lengthen and thicken in my grip.

I recall the way he’d held himself, stroking and tugging himself to a shattering orgasm while I watched, held literally at arm’s length. I mimic his grip and movements and very quickly have him murmuring his approval. Hearing the praise tumble from his lips makes my knees weak.

Just as he settles in to the rhythm and closes his eyes, I sink to my knees. At eye level he is astounding. My mouth goes dry and he lowers a hand to stroke my hair behind my ears.

“If you’re going to do this, I want to see everything.”

I look up into a ravenous gaze. He’s never asked me to do this but it’s clear he wants me to. And something tells me that even if I do it badly, he will still love every second.

I tentatively reach my tongue out and lick the tip of his crown. He draws a breath through his teeth. It’s a reaction that heats the place between my legs. But this is not about me for a change. This is about him.

I curl my tongue around the tip drawing another hiss from his mouth.

“Fuck, this is going to ruin me,” he groans .

I smile and lift his cock so I can lick him from the base to the lip.

An aggressive noise rises up from his chest so I do it again. I look up and see him scrub a hand down his face. It’s taut with desire. It’s an expression I could get used to seeing.

Holding his gaze, I draw his length toward me and wrap my lips around it.

He’s gotten so thick my mouth feels stretched.

His eyelids lower and he watches me through thick, lust-drenched lashes.

I’m facing an impossible task but it seems I don’t need to do a whole lot to get the sort of response that is fast going to drive me insane.

I fit as much as I can of him into my mouth. There’s enough of him that I can grip with both hands, so I do. Then I begin to suck.

I hear a loud slap and realize I too have closed my eyes. They dart to the source of the sound and Andreas has thrust a hand against the wall and is leaning his full weight on it.

“This is good. This is so fucking good.”

I suck him from all angles, licking, kissing and swirling my tongue around the circumference. I want to do more but I’m not sure how.

I glance up at him and as if he knows I’m watching, his lids lift lazily.

He must see the question in my face because he pulls out of mouth and cups my chin.

“You need to relax your throat,” he says softly. “ Take me to the back and breathe through the reflex. Just breathe. Then open up and I’ll push in a little.”

I nod and part my lips. He feeds his cock into them and slides all the way to the back of my throat. My gut rolls as my gag reflex kicks in.

“Breathe,” he whispers. “Open your throat. Relax it.”

It’s takes a few attempts but eventually my throat softens. He sees it in my eyes and nods once just to be sure. I hum around his cock since I might do him an injury if I nod my head.

He slowly pushes further in, all the way reminding me to breathe, and stroking reassuring fingertips across my cheeks. My eyes are stretched so wide I can feel tears form in the corners.

He nods again and pushes deeper still. I can now only fit one hand around his remaining length.

“I’m going to fuck your throat baby, okay?”

I hum again but it’s broken. I want him to do whatever he needs to do. I want this to be good for him.

He pumps his hips slow and short and I feel the head of his cock brush the walls of my throat. I focus on staying relaxed, though it’s hard. His eyes roll back almost straight away.

“This is unbelievably fucking good,” he murmurs. “I’m not going to last. I’m going to come so hard in your gut. Shit .”

I grab the backs of his legs, trying to hold on while he thrusts a little deeper, a little harder.

“You are a goddamn angel,” he says. Then the muscles at the back of his thighs grow tight and solid. His balls below my hands tighten and lift and he comes down my throat with a thundering curse.

I hold still while he unloads every last bit, then focus on staying open while he pulls out.

Before I can wipe my mouth, he’s hauling me to my feet and pressing his lips against mine.

He doesn’t care that I taste completely of him.

He swirls his tongue around my mouth and presses small kisses to my lips.

“Thank you, thank you,” he whispers between breaths and kisses. “That was the best fucking head I’ve ever had. It was perfect. You are perfect. It was exactly what I needed.”

I pull back. “Good.”

“Yeah, I reckon I can at least count to ten now before I put a bullet into someone.”

A corner of my lip curls up. “Well, that’s something.”

“Come on,” he says, wrapping an arm around my neck. “Let’s get you some gelato. I think your throat is going to need it.”