His stride didn’t slow at all as he carried her across the gravel. He set her on her feet at his door while he fished the key card from his wallet. Pushing the door open, he held it and looked at her. And waited.
He wouldn’t sweep her into his room like he’d swept her across the drive. She’d have to walk in under her own power. She’d have to decide, consent.
It turned out he didn’t have a lot of patience and wasn’t above nudging. “I want this, Evangeline. I want you.”
His was a very powerful presence. Tall and muscular, he loomed over her. His dark eyes were intense, seductive, and compelling. He was incredibly sexy, sexual.
And she loved him.
* * * *
It was a near thing. Gio really wanted her to make the call. He was fantastically driven to have her, but still, it should be her choice. He didn’t like to think he would push her, press her without her consent.
He was about half a second away from finding out the truth of that when she stepped into his room.
Bloody thank God.
He followed her in and closed the door. And locked it, double locked it.
The room was small, and she didn’t have much of anywhere to go, so she kind of hovered, halfway between the door and the king-size bed. He walked around her to the tiny seating area at the window. The table had a small lamp shaded with colored glass. He turned that on and then drew the curtains closed. He wanted to see her, but he didn’t want her worrying about who might be outside looking in. Not that he gave a fuck.
She’d watched his movements, looking at him from across the bed. She was so lovely, that silver glimmering in the soft light, her skin glowing. He let his gaze drift from her face to her breasts. He saw she felt the weight of it. Her breathing quickened, and her breasts lifted.
Just the heat of his gaze could do that. She was freaking responsive. His dick filled in anticipation.
Staying where he was, he slowly loosened his tie and removed it. Then he shrugged his jacket off and draped it pretty carelessly over one of the chairs.
She watched, still and intent, and it was a wicked turn-on. He started unbuttoning his shirt and, for the first time in his life, made a little tease of it. He moved lazily, taking his time with each button, letting her see a little more of his chest as each one fell open. When he got to the bottom, he pulled the tails out of his pants and let the shirt hang from his shoulders.
He let her look, knowing she could see now the way his cock tented out his fly. He had the chance to cover up a bit as he unfastened his cuffs, but he didn’t take it. It was probably better to let her know what she was in for.
He dropped the shirt without any care at all. He toed out of his shoes then balanced on one foot at a time to tug his socks off.
She was fucking turned on. He could hear her breath and see little shivers ripple through her. She apparently liked what she saw, and he was fucking glad.
He walked around the bed and enjoyed how her eyes widened as he moved closer. He bypassed her for just a minute to open up the bed. Then he went and stood before her.
He put his hands on her hips and pulled her close, hard.
“Mmm.” The action made a cradle for his cock between their bodies, corralling its urgent efforts to bust through his pants. He practically shuddered with the relief of it.
Holding her tightly in place, he looked down at her. She slowly raised her gaze from his chest. “Evvie,” he said, his voice hoarse.
She put her hands on his biceps, a warm touch that shouldn’t have made his cock take another leap but did. He took a steadying breath, then dropped his head and put his lips on her skin.
He was at the junction of her neck and shoulder, inside the little strap of silk and lace. Her skin was smooth and sweet, just as he’d expected. And hot, so hot.
He just touched for a long moment, feeling her heat, taking her scent into his lungs, taking her into his body. Imprinting. Then he opened his lips and tasted.
She quivered as he touched her with his tongue. “Gio.” It was only a breath, and the first time she’d used anything but his full name. He had to think he had her a little distracted.
He moved to take her mouth.
She didn’t seem to know much about kissing. He wondered if she’d had any experience since that night eight years ago. No matter. He considered himself a pro, and he didn’t mind giving lessons.
He brushed her lips, soft touches, and used a little suction on that lovely, lower one. He worked her a little harder, using more pressure, and she got the hang of it, moving her mouth a little against his.
Needing more, he urged her along. “Open a little, sweetheart. Open for me.”
She moaned a tad anxiously but trusted him enough to comply. Fighting the urge to shove his tongue in and fuck her with it, he dipped in gently.
She was a freaking good student. She liked that intimate exchange, cautiously meeting his tongue with hers and braving little strokes with it.
He wanted to take his time with her, but he just didn’t know if that was going to happen. He moved one hand to cup the back of her head and pillaged.
Lord, she was hot. He loved the taste of her and the way she yielded, letting him have what he wanted. He went deep, using his tongue, then going back to suck and nip at her lips.
Honest to God, his knees were shaking when he ended it. He shuddered out a breath and went back to her neck. He nibbled there while he slid his hand under the strap of her dress, right above her breast.
That took her aback some. She lifted to meet his gaze and watched even as he moved his hand, lifting the strap off her shoulder and drawing it down. He worked it a little until her breast was revealed.
“Holy fuck, Ev.” It was a beautiful breast, full and firm, mounded high. The areola was small and dark, circling a sweet, puckered little nipple.
Okay, he was a breast man and something of an expert. In his lifetime, no tit had ever topped this.
He was done holding back. He found the zipper in the back and let it down. The dress was built with its own little support—which she didn’t fucking need—and as soon as it was gone her breasts were bare.
He leaned her back over one arm, cupped her with his free hand, and took her with his mouth. He didn’t play around but took a good grip and sucked hard. It was fucking sweet heaven. Her nipple was like a firm berry in his mouth. He rubbed it with his tongue and had her crying out.
It wasn’t enough. He moved his hand from her breast to her thigh. He followed it up under her dress. She wore a thong with a coy little triangle in front that gave him no hindrance at all. Just like that he had her clit and gave her a few strokes. She was hot immediately, panting out his name, arching her breast into his mouth. He slid his fingers a little further and found her cunt, all warm and moist and welcoming. He finger fucked her, rubbing her clit again with his thumb, and she came.
Not wildly, but with sweet whimpers and nice, hard spasms of her body. He could feel the clench of it on his fingers and the soft huffs of her breath against his face.
This was fucking his woman. She was lucky he didn’t howl out his satisfaction—they’d have heard it over in the clubhouse.
He took his mouth and hands off her, needing to pause a minute to steady her on her feet. He helped the dress fall the rest of the way off and used a minute to hang it in the closet. The damn thing deserved some respect.
When he walked back to her, she was facing the bed, and he got a sweet view of her ass with the line of her thong running right up it in that ridiculous, totally hot way. He stood behind her, not touching her except to nuzzle into her hair a little and hook his thumbs into the side elastic of her panties.
One of those things—probably the latter—agitated her a little. He pressed his luck and slowly slid his thumbs down, taking the thong with him. She moaned—bingo—as he drew them down. He let them fall to the floor and then circled her with his arms. He pulled her close against him, nestling his cock into that sweet ass. He had a breast in one hand and cove
red her pussy with the other, his middle finger making itself known.
He bent his head and nipped her shoulder. “That was just an appetizer, baby. Climb up on the bed.”
He nudged her with a little pat on the ass and watched in satisfaction as she complied. It was a big bed, but she didn’t go far, didn’t cower on the far side. She took the middle, on her back but turned a little toward him, waiting for him, God bless her hot little soul.
She was watching as he moved his hands to his belt.
* * * *
Evangeline had felt the size of him when he’d first pressed his hard cock into her belly. But she wasn’t afraid. He’d been remarkably sweet, kissing her as though he had all night for it, and then touching her in that way that was entirely to please her.
Still, she watched avidly as he opened his belt. She loved his body—that brawny chest with its central patch of soft dark hair, his ripped abs. She wanted to see the rest of it.
He’d given her that sweet little strip tease before, and he didn’t hold back now. When he shucked his pants, he stood there, letting her look her fill.
His hips were narrow, lean, transitioning smoothly to his muscled thighs. That patch of chest hair slimmed to a fine line at his navel, then flared again to form a triangle at his genitals. His cock, hard and huge, thrust out from there, proudly seeking—well, her.
While she looked at him, he was looking back, his focus centered just where her thighs met. For a moment he met her gaze, and while he did, he stroked his cock, letting her know what was coming.
It was nothing she didn’t want, didn’t crave. She lifted an arm, reaching for him. The brown of his eyes burned hot in response. He came onto the bed, right between her legs. He leaned down over her, nuzzling the skin over her clavicle.
He’d done that before. He was a physical man, using all of his senses to both arouse and take her in. It was a lovely, loving sensation, the way he seemed to absorb her into himself.
It was incredibly erotic, binding.
He still held his cock in his hand, and he rubbed it over her.
“I should get a condom,” he said, teasing at her opening.
“No,” she said. “Don’t.” She wanted him—him, his skin, his essence—inside her.
He didn’t stop rubbing, but he looked up at her. “I know I won’t hurt you, won’t give you any diseases, but—”
What else he could give her, she wouldn’t object to in the least. “We’re good.”
“Yeah?” He was still asking, but he was inside her now, just pressing in, stretching her.
“Yes,” she assured. “Yes.”
Her breath caught then, as he took her. With a groan he slid in, slow but determined as he breached her, making her feel every inch of length and breadth.
He stopped then, when she was impossibly stretched, entirely filled with him.
“Oh, God, Evvie.” He dug in, his face burrowed into her neck, one arm wrapping around her hips. He held her, making her his, securing her for what was to come.
He might have tried to hold back, but it was a battle he was losing.
“You feel so good.” He strained once, not really fucking her, but arching in for that last little bit of penetration. “So fucking tight. Hot. Evvie.”
That last came out on a moan, and he gave over. He started fucking her, plummeting in and then withdrawing, growling and wrapping himself around her. “Oh, oh.”
His hands clutched at her, his fingers straining against her skin. He dug his knees in, lifting up so he could plunge deeper.
She felt him, every inch of him penetrating, possessing her. Accommodating to his girth, her pussy was so stretched that each thrust pulled at her, stimulating her clit and driving her up. Her body rocked, flexing to meet him as he shoved deeper. She wanted to have all of him.
He pounded into her, his moans turning deep and feral, his words earthy and crude. He gripped her hard, lifting up to see her face.
“Evvie.” He fucked into her again and again. “Come. Evvie.”
It seemed his will alone could make it happen. But there was no need for his urging. The thrust of his cock was doing it all, filling her, stimulating her clit, driving her over. She started to spasm, bucking hard underneath him, crying out. Her body wracked with it. Her consciousness scattered, exploding into smithereens, driven to oblivion.
As if from a far distance, she heard him come, the roar of it. Felt the powerful spasms of his body and the hot spurts of his cum.
* * * *
Gio had her once more during the night. He vaguely remembered falling into sleep—or, maybe more likely, a coma—after that incredible orgasm.
There’d never been anything like it. Her hot cunt fit like it was made just for him. Her whole body responded like an instrument tuned to his needs alone. And her sweet, gentle, giving self soothed him like no other.
He was a fucking goner.
And when he woke, to that ever so delightful ass snugged up against his already hard again cock, well, there was no doubt about what was going to happen.
Luckily, she didn’t mind waking up to him shoving into her pussy from behind. She arched with a little murmur and made way for him.
“Again, Ev.”
“Yes. I will always want you.”
Despite those incendiary words, he tried to take it easy with her, just fucking in a little bit. He pushed her over some, so he could grasp one of those spectacular tits and diddle her with his other hand.
She was up for all of it and didn’t require that he go gentle on her. Pretty soon she was panting, humping back to get more cock. Unable to hold back any longer, he rolled on top of her. Then he banged her hard, slapping up against that sweet ass, fingering her clit good.
She was shaking, overcome, as he got her there. He didn’t let up but pushed her harder until she was shrieking, until the hot spasms of her cunt drove him to his own brutal climax.
He collapsed on top of her, involuntary tremors still rattling through him. It was several long minutes before he had the good grace to roll off and let her breathe.
It was an action he bitterly regretted the next time he woke.
She was gone.
Chapter Four
Evangeline wasn’t proud of the way she left Giovanni. It felt a little skanky—mean, even—waiting for him to fall asleep again, lying quietly with him until the sky started to lighten and then sneaking away. She was afraid he would be hurt.
It had been different with Briggs. He was off on a trip to Scotland. There’d been no question of them hanging around, spending the day together or whatever. Well, there’d been that thing where he’d asked her to go with him. But she hadn’t taken that seriously. That had been a spur of the moment, sex-drugged ramble, not a genuine invitation.
She was pretty sure.
Briggs wouldn’t really miss her, wouldn’t really regret that she’d saved him an awkward good-bye.
She hoped.
She suspected it would be different with Giovanni. What had happened between them, well, it hadn’t been just play. She thought he’d been serious, that he’d want—more.
Maybe it was wrong of her to have let it happen. It was just—he’d taken her by surprise, appearing in front of her so unexpectedly, looking at her with heat in those dark eyes. She hadn’t been prepared.
But no, it wasn’t just those things.
She shouldn’t even try to lie to herself.
If she were being honest, she’d have to admit that, as she’d driven away from Briggs, contemplating her life and her place in the world, there’d been some resentment. The hours she’d spent with Briggs had left her wanting something.
She was a woman of twenty-nine. And yes, her life was full and happy, and she could feel satisfied loving her three friends from afar.
But there was satisfied, and then, she now knew, there was satisfied.
And so maybe she’d been a bit careless when she let Giovanni carry her to his room, a bit reckless. Like a drunk falling of
f the wagon, she’d lost all control. She’d had binge sex. She’d gotten wasted on it.
She should have done better, by him and for herself as well. She should have behaved in a way such that she didn’t have to slip into yesterday’s dress, carry her heels, and tiptoe out of a man’s room at dawn.
A man who she was pretty sure would be angry and hurt to wake up alone.
Well, she couldn’t change it.
If he was hurt and angry enough, it was possible that he would find her to complain about it. It wasn’t like she was hiding. Exactly.
She would deal with it if it happened. At the moment, her little walk of shame was the best she could manage.
She used the room she’d reserved only to shower and dress in the simple skirt and top she’d planned to wear to the brunch. She wouldn’t stay for that—it turned out she was more of a coward than she’d known.
It wasn’t until she was back on the Thruway heading east that she breathed easily.
She got to the hospital in Rochester early and sat with Aunt Winona. The narcotics she was given to help her manage pain also kept her pretty sedated, but she was at her best in the morning hours. She was in and out, waking to chat about the farm, the grape weather, and the children of Victory Farms, and then dozing.
After a couple hours, when Winona was drifting to sleep again, Evangeline kissed her cheek and told her good-bye. She’d done that three or four times in the last three weeks, never knowing if it would be the last time.
Then, as she walked out of the hospital, she heard her name called and knew that fate was really fucking with her.
* * * *
Chase Gregory worked three fourteen-hour shifts a week and on Sunday morning was just coming off a stretch of nights. It was never good when his third night landed on a Saturday. Everyone knew Saturday night in the ED sucked ass, and last night had been no exception. The area was just getting into the swing of summer, and folks were staying up too late, drinking too much, and mixing those two factors with boats and motorcycles and guns. Not good.
Three Men and a Woman: Evangeline (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 6
