The Man in Black_A Standalone Mafia Romance Page 11

  Slowly, I inch back, summoning my composure, and tell her, “We shouldn’t do this; we’re both drunk. You should go. The cab’s still waiting for you downstairs.”

  Brielle blinks at my sudden change of heart, yet I let go of her, my pants bulging as she frowns and opens her mouth but closes it. Feeling completely off balance, I turn my back to her and hear her heels moving away from me across the hardwood floor before the door opens and closes with an angry bang.

  Sitting down on the edge of the couch, I furiously yank off my jacket and toss it aside, raking my hands through my hair and inhaling deeply as my eyelids get heavier. Up until now, I’ve never had an issue keeping my distance from a woman, but this one’s getting under my skin in a way I don’t want. Lounging backward, I place my arm over my eyes.

  Then the doorbell rings, so I sit up and happen to see Brielle’s coat and purse on the floor by the terrarium. Getting up, I open the door and she stands there, hip cocked and with enticing, kiss-swollen lips – the pulsing in my trousers increases, and the need to fuck her overrules my common sense.

  “I forgot my p—”

  “You don’t listen very well.” I snare her wrist and tug her inside, lowering my mouth to just above hers.

  “I actually do, but you just don’t know what you want,” she accuses, her stare burning with an emotion I don’t recognize yet sending a thrill through me as she lifts her chin in challenge.

  Until now, I’ve resisted her pull with great effort, but my control breaks and I crash my lips to hers, drawing her into me with both arms wrapping around her waist. Tasting champagne and rum, I plunder her mouth, making her moan while I ravenously take what I’ve denied myself for so long. And in my intoxicated state, for the first time, I succeed in turning off my incessant sorrow about last year’s events.

  I pick Brielle up with one arm, forcing her legs to wind around my hips as I slam the door shut and lock it. Then I carry her to the couch, and when I throw her onto her back, she shows me her dimples.

  Standing in front of her as she sits up, I kiss the side of her neck – fuck, she smells good – and I ask, “What do you want?”

  “You.” Peeking up, she places her hand on my chest.

  With a sly grin, I finger her spaghetti strap and order, “So show me how much you want me. Undress for me.”

  To get her started, I glide the strap off her shoulder and her breath catches before she timidly slithers off the other one, her blue dress bunching around her middle and revealing her angelic white bra. Reaching around back, she unhooks it to fling it aside, and I knead her full breasts that fit perfectly in my palms, eager to taste her rosebud nipples like I’ve fantasized about so often.

  Then I pull her close, taking her mouth as I move my hand down her curving spine to crush her hips against mine, my fingertips tracing the round globes of her ass before probing under the scrap of material between her legs to touch her entirely bare center.

  “You’re already so slick,” I mutter, delving into her warm core and making her head fall back as she bites her lip to stifle a moan.

  “Don’t be shy, Brielle. Take what you want,” I growl, exploring her cleft, her glassy green eyes meeting mine before I grab her waist, spin us around, and sit with her positioned between my legs.

  Trailing kisses up her quivering belly, I lick her nipple and she clutches my hair, my cock pounding through my boxers as she pushes her breast into me. I suck hard, teasing it with my tongue, and she whimpers when I let it pop out.

  Quickly, I drag down her dress, along with her panties, and as I look up, she traces my jawline. She’s a tantalizing mix of innocent wonder and sensual promise and her skin feels remarkably soft when I rake a finger up her silky stomach.

  “Take off my clothes,” I say, guiding her to kneel on the floor.

  Without hesitation, she wrenches off my tie and unbuttons my dress shirt, and although we’re face-to-face, I don’t kiss her.

  Meanwhile, I feel her warmth radiating off her as she unbuckles my belt, and I lift my hips so that she can pull down my pants and boxers. Then I discard my shirt and kick off my shoes before removing my socks and pants.

  Her breath short, Brielle studies me, touching the outline of my abs as I cradle her face and give her a hard, brief kiss before leaning back. My cock jumps while Brielle watches it, and I take her hand and fold it around the base.

  “Suck it, Brielle,” I order in a low tone, and without delay, she begins pumping my rock-hard dick. “Fuck, yes. Harder.”

  Instantly, she strengthens her grip, and when she kneels forward with her lips parted, I push the head between them, feeding her my cock. As she accepts the thrust of it, I reach around and cup her neck, giving myself leverage while she licks and sucks, making all the blood rush from my brain.

  Smoothing her long hair back, I gather it into a ponytail and watch her as she submits to me, naked and uninhibited and so fucking sexy.

  “That’s it.” I shove into her hot, wet mouth, and she whimpers, gazing up at me with absolute lust as I buck my hips, and she takes all of me before coming up for air.

  Then I pick her up by her ass and kneel down before lowering her onto the floor, her beautiful skin glowing in contrast to the grey rug. As I crawl up her slender body beneath me, she takes in my features, her wavy blonde hair fanned out. My fingers curl around her ankle and I push it upward, spreading her legs as I lie on top of her and rub my dick against her soaking sex.

  “Hmmm,” she murmurs while she strokes my upper body, and I shudder under her touch as I rock against her harder, increasing the pressure. “Oh, god...” She bites her plump bottom lip, and I lick the red mark, circling my hips, and when I release her ankle, we become a frenzy of tangled limbs, kissing passionately.

  I graze my mouth across her collarbone and keep moving south, playfully sinking my teeth into her nipple. Although she tugs at my hair, I continue downward, running my tongue along her flat stomach and toward her center. Then I flip her over, making her giggle, and move up again so that I can spank her ass, her laugh becoming a shriek as she writhes against me.

  Nipping her ear, I lower myself onto her with my palms planted on the rug. “Do you want me to fuck you, Brielle?”

  “Yes,” she whispers, and when she turns her head, I capture her lips and she moans in that husky voice of hers as I glide my cock between her ass cheeks.

  Scraping my nails over her back, I scoot down toward her provocative behind that’s begging to be kissed.

  “Show me all of you.” I press my lips on the swell of Brielle’s ass, right above where she wants me, and she groans with desire as I swat her hip and bite her cheek, marking her. “Spread your legs.”

  She laughs, trying to squeeze her legs together, but my hands shoot out to stop her, and when she opens them, she’s already wet, giving me a magnificent view. As I shift lower, her hips arch in anticipation and I relish how she surrenders to me completely. After weeks of denying myself, I’m going to take what my cock desires.

  “God, Brielle, you’re so fucking beautiful.” My palms wander over the globes.

  She makes a begging sound, gripping the rug and bowing her back as I lean down and wait an inch above her pussy.

  I blow against her folds and pull her up close to my lips. “Ask me to lick you.” But even if she doesn’t, I’m going to swallow every drop of her wetness.

  “Lick me, please,” she begs seductively.

  My tongue peeks out, and I grunt in satisfaction when I ease it over her smooth pussy. Her musky scent has my dick leaking pre-come, and I lose any modicum of control as I proceed to devour her.

  Her hips buck as she goes up on her knees slightly, and she puts her face into the rug, suppressing a scream, as I suck on her, kneading her ass. I can hear her staccato breathing, interrupted by moans, as she pushes back against me. Sporting a raging hard-on, I taste every inch, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of her behind before I slide a finger into her.

  A hoarse whimper sends a j
olt right to my balls, and I get even harder as I continue to lap at her, pumping my finger until I feel her walls clenching. And when she mewls unashamedly loudly with her release, I almost come as her trembling legs give out.

  Immediately, she rolls to her back and I shift upward, biting her nipple as I go, until we’re nose-to-nose, her gaze fixated on me yet unfocused.

  “Your breasts drive me crazy, Duchenne,” I whisper, and she smiles as I settle atop her to position my cock between her legs and grab the undersides of her knees and push them back so that she’s wide open for me.

  I drag the head of my dick across her wet core to tease her, barely able to hold back, and she winds her arms around my neck as I gradually sink into her, absorbing the feeling of how tight she is. Then while my eyes stay fixed on her face, on every groan she makes, something inside me clicks, alters.

  “Take all of me, Brielle.”

  Her teeth clamp together as I drive in and let go of her legs, leaning forward and firmly knitting my hands into her hair. Finding as insistent rhythm, I inhale her, her arms and legs locking around me and holding me tight while she moves with me just as frantically. I kiss her impatiently, fucking her with my tongue and my cock in equal measure as I drive in hard, balls deep until I’m ready to fuck her from behind. Pulling out, I roll her over and raise her up on all fours, and as I forcefully drive inside, she gasps and clutches the rug.

  “Fuck me back,” I growl.

  “Oh, shit, Michael!” She does as I say, and the movement of her body urges me to take her harder, and I smile, indulging in every dip it takes.

  Grasping the curve of her waist, I wedge myself in deeper, showing Brielle how much I’ve wanted her as I hammer into her. Then I bend over her, placing one hand next to hers while my other rubs her pussy. My balls slam against her hot core and her squeals turn to screams as I fuck her with everything I have, practically shoving her onto her stomach. When she keeps meeting my thrusts, I can feel my dick pulsing with my climax as her orgasm bursts and her limbs quiver in release.

  A drop of sweat rolling down my forehead, I grip her hip and push in hard one last time just as she shouts my name in that throaty tone, “Michael...”

  “Ah, fuck!” Drawing in a breath, I hold it with that final thrust and flop on top of her, overwhelmed by the heady pleasure.

  I fall to my back on the rug, and she sends me a fulfilled smile that reaches her half-lidded eyes before she snuggles into the crook of my arm, her naked front pressed to my side. Although my energy is depleted, I somehow skim my fingers up and down her biceps.

  What’s happening?

  My intention was to fuck her out of my system, but instead, the way she tempted me got the better of me, and now I’m the one stuck in confusion – something has changed.

  Luckily, before I can let my thoughts consume me, sleep descends upon me.

  I WAKE ABRUPTLY, SITTING up and squinting at the early sunlight that brightens the living room, and I find myself alone on my couch in my black boxers with my clothes on the floor beside me.

  “Fuck!” I grumble around a dry mouth while adjusting my morning wood, thinking about Brielle.

  As I get up and walk around the couch toward the kitchen, I scrub my hand down my face, but when I hear a noise coming from upstairs, I freeze.

  She’s still fucking here?

  CHAPTER 19

  Brielle

  PRESSED AGAINST MICHAEL’S side, I sweep my fingertips across his solid, naked chest, his hot skin searing against mine as we lie on his wide couch, and I feel treasured being this close to him. I can’t believe we had sex, and the unbridled passion he showed me was unforgettable. Memories of an explosively lustful night occupy my mind. Even though I was drunk, I recall every second of it. My limbs still titillate from how he touched me like no man ever has, how he coaxed me out of my shyness, and how I enjoyed pleasuring him.

  Of course, I was mad when he rejected me again, but I returned to his apartment because I forgot my coat and purse. However, I hadn’t expected him to seduce me so quickly or intensely. In hindsight, I’m very happy I came back.

  Slowly, I prop myself up on my elbow to watch Michael’s serene expression, a small grin curling his mouth. Caressing the stubble on his angular jaw, I literally sense myself falling hard for this enigmatic man who made love to me in a way I didn’t even know existed. Without thinking, I smooth his thick, dark hair back and plant a kiss on his lips, but thankfully, he doesn’t stir.

  Because I want to freshen up before he wakes, I scoot to the end of the couch to get up, but I sway when black spots blur my vision and a headache ensues since I drank too much champagne. Still, I swiftly collect my dress, heels, coat, and purse that are strewn around by the terrarium. I tiptoe across the heated floor before hiking up the cedar staircase in the center of the room to the mezzanine above.

  Pausing at the top, I survey a lavish mahogany master suite that looks like it belongs in a hotel. A king-size bed with a beautiful dark-blue duvet and a tall leather headboard is pushed against the wall on the far side of the room, and from it, you can look out the floor-to-ceiling windows and see the sunlight glistening off Lake Michigan.

  “Holy crap, this is gorgeous,” I murmur and begin to feel a little out of place with my bunched up clothes in my fist, so I rush into the adjoining bathroom that has a black tile floor and two square sinks on a marble floating shelf.

  I set my clothes on the shelf and open the double glass doors of the shower stall, which has a built-in bench and a chrome shower head attached to the ceiling. When I turn the faucet, a strong stream hits the top of my head. I tilt my face up and let the refreshingly warm water rinse my hair and skin as I take a big gulp because I’m parched.

  Grabbing Michael’s shampoo that’s set out on the bench, I flip the lid and bring it up to my nose, recognizing his one-of-a-kind soapy smell before lathering up and washing my hair. Then I step out and take a fluffy towel that feels deliciously soft and dry off. I notice the faint marks on my breast from where Michael branded me, and I bite my lip, grinning widely and realizing full well that I’ve already fallen for him. Although I know there’s a torment inside him, I’m not regretful at all that he finally let down the wall and kissed me first.

  Consumed by thoughts of Michael, I throw on my dress and dip down to find a new toothbrush in the cabinet beneath the sink. After I brush my teeth, I comb my hair, smear on some lotion, and use his deodorant.

  Feeling fresh and clean, I saunter out of the bathroom and into the immaculate white closet, searching for a shirt to wear over my dress. I curiously move past a row of designer suits, shoes, and ties, ending at a square glass table with an array of expensive brand-name watches on display. When I notice a familiar silver bangle lying in the corner, I blink repeatedly as confusion overcomes me.

  Bending forward, I pick it up and compare it to mine to see that it’s an exact copy. Hastily, I read the inscription to verify if it’s the bracelet I think it is, and engraved inside is forever friends. Gasping, I let go of the bracelet as if it’s burned me, and it clanks loudly on the glass, which doesn’t break, thank god. Meanwhile, my stomach turns in a nauseating flop.

  Oh my god! What the hell is going on here? Why is the other bracelet here? Is Michael lying to me?

  Suspiciously, I glimpse at the doorway before taking the bracelet again and hurrying back to the bathroom to get my purse and coat and step into my heels. Then I stride toward the staircase but stop cold when I see Michael standing at the foot of it, holding his gun firmly in one hand and directing it up at me. My palms fly up in reaction, but I manage to hold on to my belongings as he settles a scowl on me. The ruthless strength his frame exudes is intimidating in spite of the fact that he’s only wearing his black boxers.

  “What are you doing here?” he demands in a raspy tone, lowering his arm and narrowing his red-rimmed eyes, which clearly indicate that he has a major hangover.

  “What?” My mouth drops open when he evaluates the living room, lo
oking for I don’t know what and scrubbing a hand down his face as he gestures with his weapon to beckon me down.

  His commanding signal has me descending the stairs, but when I reach the bottom, he doesn’t move aside as he scans the length of my body while I’m unable to assemble my thoughts.

  “What are you doing here, Brielle?” he repeats in that strict and authoritative voice he used when we first met.

  Was he too drunk to remember that we had sex?

  Tightening my grip on my purse, I try to concentrate but fail, spewing, “What do you mean? I just woke up and took a shower.”

  His brows climb halfway up his forehead. “You woke up where exactly?”

  “You don’t remember?” I grit out and he rears back slowly while observing me as if I sprouted a second head. “We slept on the couch...”

  His cheeks pale before his lips thin into a hard line and his expression turns lethal, and I recognize a deadly edge in him I’ve seen before. Only, this time, it scares me as the silver bracelet singes a hole in my purse, and I wonder why Michael has really been seeking me out. Evidently, not to flirt with me and end up in bed together.

  “We had sex,” I mutter, and he’s completely motionless before he swivels around.

  “No, no!” he whisper-shouts, furiously plowing both his hands through his hair, his strong back muscles coiling tight.

  This is the worst reaction I could have imagined. One I didn’t anticipate. And it fills me with clashing questions, though I also want to escape his apartment because of the brick that’s lodged in my throat. I don’t understand anything that’s going on.

  So I step off the staircase, throwing on my coat, and turn toward the front door, but Michael spins around and seizes my upper arm in a strong grip, looking treacherously attractive as he towers over me and hisses, “Why did you come back?!”

  Whirling around, I violently fling off his hand and retort, “So you do remember?!”