“What are those?”
I hold up the two sheaths, then set them on the front counter. “Remember the tussle on the boardwalk the other night?”
“Sure.”
“I wasn’t kidding when I said you handled yourself well,” I say, unbuttoning the sheaths and taking out the objects inside. I pull out two rubber knives, holding them up to show them to her. She cocks her head to the side.
“Are those…?”
“Not real,” I say with a grin, “they’re rubber. Training knives. Me and my boys are going to keep you safe, but if things get too hot,” I say, stepping closer to her and looking down at her, “I won’t let my passerotta be caught defenseless.”
She looks up at me silently for a few moments, then down at the hilt of the rubber knife I’m offering her. She takes it and feels its weight, getting a firm grip on it. The way she holds it tells me she’ll be a natural.
“I got lucky on the boardwalk,” she says, brandishing the knife around a little experimentally. “I don’t think I could go toe-to-toe with someone like that guy you took down.”
“It shouldn’t come to that,” I say, stepping around behind her and adjusting her stance, bending her elbow just so and turning her hips. “But just in case, a little extra luck doesn’t hurt,” I say with a smile down at her.
“By ‘luck’ you mean a few inches of steel, right?” she says with a coy smile, and I grin.
“That helps, too.”
“Okay,” she says, taking a deep breath to relax as she tosses the knife up and down in her hand a few times and catching it. “I’m game. No problem. Soap shop owner and knife-fighter. I can make that work. Where do you want to practice?”
“This will do,” I say, looking around the front of the shop. She raises her eyebrows at me, and I carefully slide some of the tables in the center out of the way to give us a little more room.
“Are you sure? Going out back might be a little more convenient.”
“You don’t get convenient space in a fight,” I say, “and besides, unless you changed your mind about branding this place as a mob front, I don’t think a knife-fight out back will be the best public image.”
“Fair enough,” she says, and she sinks back into the stance that I showed her. As I finish moving the tables, I look at her and smile. Her body is good at remembering the posture.
“That’s good,” I say, “managing your own center of gravity is half the fight. You’re light, you’ll need to use that to your advantage a lot.”
“How do I do that?”
I square up with her, holding my own knife at the ready. “I’ll show you step by step. I’ll move in, and I’ll show you how to move yourself so you can use my weight against me. You might not be able to push me around, but I can’t lift myself. Like this…”
I start showing her the basics of knife-fighting, the sounds of our feet scuffling around the shop the only noise besides my instruction.
Serena proves to be a good student. She seems naturally able to move where I tell her, and half the time, she anticipates what I’m going to tell her. I can see her athletic youth shining through, and her muscles serve her well.
I show her the basic moves, how to keep an enemy from using his height to his advantage, how to move quickly and effortlessly to match an enemy’s better reach. I have to be careful not to run into the displays in the shop, but it’s good practice in using the limited space.
While I teach her how to use her body, it isn’t long before she starts making use of the knife to fight back with the movements. “That’s good,” I tell her as I parry one of her quick jabs, “let the movement come first, and the attacks can follow. That’s the trick—they’ll see you coming from a mile away if you come in to attack. Let him come to you and make him regret it.”
She nods and slips around me to make a stab at my kidney, and I roll around to pull her arm behind her back, gently. I tap her on the collar with the knife, and she huffs, getting back into position. “Again.”
She gets into the swing of things fast, and soon, we’re going back and forth at a steady rhythm, our pace only getting more regular. I move in, she moves around me, and I catch her.
After a few minutes of practicing a set of about five maneuvers, I finally feel a tap of the rubber on my kidney, and she gives a triumphant little laugh, skipping back and smiling brightly. “Ha!”
“Not bad,” I admit, grinning proudly at her. “Now do it again.”
Soon, the sound of our heavy breathing is in the air as we run through the routines until I feel that they’re coming almost unconsciously to her. She moves in like a viper, and she’s starting to learn my openings. I don’t fight people as small as her, so she soon finds openings in my defenses even I didn’t know were there. She’s impressive.
And I know that the guys she’d potentially be fighting are no different than me. They don’t fight women like her. They simply…
I shake my mind of the thought. I can’t go back to that night. I can’t let myself think of what would happen if I didn’t show up.
I parry another stab, but Serena gets too bold soon, and when she tries to dart under my arms and bring the knife up to my throat, I catch her by the wrist and whirl her around, holding the knife to her own throat with her back pressed against my front.
We freeze there for a moment, our heavy breathing filling the air, and I let the rubber blade brush against her skin.
“Playing with fire, carina,” I whisper into her ear. She smiles and twists away from my grip, twirling the blade in her hand a moment before darting in again. This time, she gets up under me, and I catch her before she can draw her knife across my thigh, but she shifts her weight the way I showed her, and I go down to one knee to keep her from getting out of my grasp.
I bring my knife down to her throat, but at the same moment that my rubber touches her neck, I feel a prod at my gut from her knife.
We look into each other’s faces a moment, both of us ‘dead’ by the other’s hand.
“You learn fast,” I say in a low tone, between breaths.
She’s panting as well, her skin glistening in the light of the shop. “Have to, with a big brute like you coming after me.”
“It’ll take more than that to keep me from coming after you,” I say, my voice lowering into a husk, and before she can respond, I descend upon her and press my lips to hers.
Surprised, she moans into the kiss, her heart still beating fast from the exercise, and I soon drop my knife and use one hand to lower myself over her while the other slides up under her neck to lift it ever so slightly into my kiss. She squirms under me, and I hear her rubber hit the ground too as her hands slide up to my shirt, feeling the tight muscles under the thin fabric.
I let her explore me, her fingers going from my swollen pecs down to my abs. She feels my wounds, but the dull twinge of pain is nothing to me with Serena in my hands. The pleasure she gives me is worth a fresh gunshot wound. She wraps her arms around me, and I feel her ankles go around my waist as she clings to me tight, our lips still locked.
I stand up with her wrapped around me, and with no patience left in my body, I take her to the front counter and set her down on it. My hands run down her sides before they reach her leggings, and I roughly jerk them down as she wiggles to help them slide off.
“Spread your legs,” I order her, and she puts her hands back to lean on as she obeys, color flushing into her cheeks. The fabric reveals her lips, looking as swollen as needy as ever, and I feel my hunger for them overwhelm me.
I kneel down and run my hands over her smooth thighs, gripping the sensitive skin. She seems so delicate, even though we’ve just spent nearly an hour teaching her how to be all the more deadly.
She’s deadlier to others, at least. To me, Serena is already my fatal poison.
I lean forward and breathe in her scent, letting my breath wash over her pussy, and I hear her gasp as she grips the table, knuckles white already. I breathe along her slit, taunting h
er by coming so close, so very close to touching her, and when my stubble finally grazes her skin, she whimpers, trying to close her legs.
My strong, gentle grip holds them apart, though, and she pushes her hips in a little, begging for me, needing me.
“Do you think you’ve earned this?” I ask, teasing her with a smile curling on my lips.
“Fuck, Bruno, don’t do this to me!” she whines. Her face smiles, but as I let another quick breath roll over her lips, it fades into desperate need.
“Am I torturing you, carina?” I ask, using my thumbs to tease her inner thighs before I run my mouth along them, teeth grazing them, five o’clock shadow teasing them.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” Serena whimpers, “fuck, I wanted you to bend me over the counter since you walked in this morning.”
“That’s not very professional,” I growl, and I wait for her to open her mouth to reply before I let my tongue out over her cunt.
She tenses immediately, and I feel the beginnings of her honey on the tip of my tongue as it travels from the bottom of her slit, deep into her lips, then up to the tip of that sensitive nub that’s so very desperate for attention. I’ve teased her, but she’s done well tonight—she deserves a proper reward.
I let loose, my tongue attacking her clit relentlessly. Its tip rolls back and forth over it, up and down, rhythmically, slowly at first. But as I build up a little speed, her jaw hangs open, and I feel her hands go to my head to get a grip. My hair pokes through her tight fingers as she holds onto me, and I feel her honey start to flood my face freely. Her body is uninhibited—it knows what it wants, and what it wants is my mouth.
I let my teeth graze her as I lavish her clit with attention, and each time they touch, I feel her tighten her grip, hear another gasp escape her pretty mouth.
My tongue moves back and forth, darting in and out to kiss her swollen nub, and I feel her start to buck her hips ever so slightly, rhythmically, needfully. I hear her gasps start to get more regular, more like a steady pace of whining breaths, and her fingers start to tighten on my head.
“Oh, oh, oh Bruno, Bruno, fuck!” she gasps, breathing in sharply as my name dances across her tongue, and I feel her whole body convulse and tighten as she comes for me, hard. Exercise always makes your body more ready for release, more needy to get rid of all that tension. I feel my face getting so wet as she lets out a wonderfully satisfied sigh, head falling back as she struggles to keep herself up, the poor thing.
I don’t give her a moment to breathe, though. I keep lavishing her clit, and soon, I let my tongue roll over the rest of her pussy, too. It runs deep, drawing out as much honey as she serves up to me. I’m devouring her, and it isn’t long before she tenses up again, orgasm crashing through her frame.
Her beauty might be my weakness, but the things I can make her body do is my secret weapon against her.
I rise up to face her panting expression, and her hazy eyes meet mine, full of so much need that I haven’t tapped yet. I smile and let out a rumbling groan from my chest as I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and pull her into a kiss. Her wetness gets all over her face as we messily embrace each other, and she brings her hips forward to push against my black pants.
“Baby, you’re so wet,” I groan between sloppy kisses. “You weren’t kidding.”
“We’re making such a goddamn mess,” she half-laughs as I bring my mouth down to her neck to tickle her with kisses, getting more aggressive and nipping her, nearly biting her as the scent of her drives me wild.
“You make me a mess, baby,” I whisper, my accent coming out more thick as I get almost dizzy in the heady scent of her lust. “Now I’m going to give you what you want.”
Without further warning, I seize her hips and slide her forward, smiling wickedly as I loom over her. I pick her up with ease and flip her around so that her ass is facing me, and I bend her over. She gasps as I press on her back, and I let my hands run down to her ass. I squeeze her, a low growl escaping me as I look on her body. We aren’t naked, we’re still in the clothes we’ve gone through the day in. It makes it feel so sudden, so wanton, and my cock grows at the sight of her with her pants pulled down, exposed and vulnerable before me.
While her ass taunts me, I unbutton my pants and let my thick shaft spring free. I stroke it, letting my fingers play across the veiny girth and up to the bulging crown. It’s so stiff and ready for her that I could explode at any moment. But I want to savor her. I pick her hips up to help her get to just the right angle, and I slide my cock to caress her soaking-wet lips.
She whimpers and pushes her hips back, desperate for me to fill her. I bring my crown to her lips and just barely penetrate her, letting the stiff tip wander around her lips like my tongue did just moments ago.
“Oh, fuck you,” she whimpers, “God, I need you in me so bad, Bruno!”
“Every night I don’t have you sheathed on my cock, Serena,” I whisper in a husk, “I feel like something’s missing.”
“Glad it’s not just me,” she gasps, looking back at me with heavily lidded eyes, her mouth hanging open and her cheeks blushing.
“Better make up for lost time, then,” I say, and seizing her hips, I enter her from behind.
The gasp that escapes her lips is a sound I could never get tired of. I feel her inner walls tight against my cock. My shaft pulses within her, as if roaring in triumph at being united with the depths it was meant to be in.
I thrust forward, and she arches her back for me, even as I hold her up. Her golden hair spills over her shoulders and hangs down as she grips the other end of the counter. This place is her livelihood, and I’m fucking her hard within it. I feel a ripple of pleasure run up my body as I thrust further up into her, rocking back and forth and caressing her ass with each thrust.
Serena never asked for any of this to fall into her lap. She never asked to get attacked by a mob, dragged back into a life she came so close to escaping. I still know in the back of my mind that this is wrong, that it’s irresponsible to be with her like this…
But the one thing she did ask for is me. And I can’t deny my girl anything.
I hear her gasp as I thrust hard against her upper walls, sliding against the slick, wonderfully hot sheath that is her pussy. My cock swells within her, and I grunt as I pound her fiercer, harder, faster.
Her gasping is getting louder, and she’s letting whimpers and cries of pleasure flow more freely. I know if she’s much louder, someone outside might hear, but I don’t care. I’m taking her, now, and that’s what she wants—that’s all that matters right now.
She clenches her pussy, and I slap her on the ass with a sound that rings through the whole room. My heavy balls swing under her, and the sounds of our flesh slapping and grinding keeps me red-hot, harder than ever, and my whole body feels poised.
She gets a rhythm going, tightening each time I slide in, making it all the sweeter when I touch that sweet spot far within her, and she lets out an exasperated gasp. As the orgasm floods my cock, her strength gives out, and I have to hold her hips up entirely on my own as she loses her grip on the counter for a moment.
“I’ve got you, dolcezza,” I growl, hoisting her up into me, and the way I bring her to sink onto my cock sends a shiver up her back that even I can feel. She stifles a yelp that sounds almost like a musical note, and the next moment, she’s back on her hands, pushing her pert ass back onto me, and I do not hold back.
I feel tension building up within me, but I’m not ready to let it go just yet. There’s a monster within me that wants me to give into my instincts, to let loose hard and fast with abandon. But I’m no beast—I’m a man who will please his woman well, and I’ll finish when I’m good and done fucking her.
I start bucking into her like a piston, my rhythm unstoppable like a machine, and her shoulders freeze as her cunt clenches. She starts to look back at me, but her eyes are shut tight and her mouth hangs open. I can feel pressure in her body winding up like a spring.
I don’t let up, every muscle in my body driving forward with unstoppable heat.
And just before her spring uncoils, I withdraw from her.
The whimper she lets out his heartbreaking, and her eyes open wide, begging me for mercy. “Fuck, Bruno, I’m so close!”
“And I’m going to take you there,” I growl, slapping her on the ass before I pull her leggings the rest of the way down until they’re off her legs, leaving her bare from the waist down in her own shop, but for the oversized shirt. I take a handful of her hair and gently tug her back until she’s standing up in front of me. “Hold on tight.”
Without warning, I sit up on the counter, my cock standing upright like a mast. Serena looks at it hungrily for a moment before I seize her by the waist and lift her up. She makes a surprised squeak as I lift her up high, but when she sees the waiting cock below her, a bead of precum glistening above the sheen of her honey she spreads her legs and starts to wrap them around me.
“I want to look into your eyes when we come,” I say thickly, and I let her sink to the hilt onto my hot, throbbing cock. My precum mixes with her wetness. The sound of her loving sigh as our sexes are united again is like honey to my ears.
She rests her hands on my shoulders and looks down at me, but I’m supporting her hips with my hands. She’s safe in my grasp, and I can see in her eyes just how much she trusts me.
When I start rocking my hips, it takes her no time to join right in with the rhythm again, as if we hadn’t paused at all. Serena bites her lip and knits her brow, and her flushed face tells me she’s using the last of her strength to work with me as I rock forward, my cock harder and stronger than ever.
My Serena feels like nothing I’ve ever felt in my lap, my cock perfectly sheathed deep inside her. Every time I help her rock forward and her hips dig deeper for more, we’re both finding parts of her that we’ve never felt, feeling sensations only we can unlock in each other.
Bound for Life (Bound to the Bad Boy Book 1) Page 18
