His (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance)(37)
I blush, standing to swat at his bare chest. His body is so smooth and well-muscled that I’m having trouble thinking of anything but ripping that towel off. I can see the vague outline of his length against the towel, and it’s taking everything in me not to reach out and grab it. The drink is still buzzing in my head and the idea of getting in the shower with him to help forget everything that has happened is getting more and more appealing.
He makes my decision easier by turning to walk through a door, but dropping his towel so I can see the full view of his chiseled back and firm ass before he walks out of sight.
“Dammit,” I murmur as I reach for the zipper on my skirt and move to follow him. I step into his room and see a luxurious bed with black and gray sheets. His bathroom is the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen. It’s all white, gleaming tile with mirrors everywhere. The sinks are veined marble and the shower is huge, with four different faucets all converging in the center of the space. Vince is already inside, his hard body bathed in steam and water, leaving only the outline of his shape visible. I bite my lip as I strip out of my clothes and my underwear, leaving them on the floor.
I pull open the shower door and step inside, sighing with pleasure as the steam washes over me. Vince turns toward me, his hair wet and slicked back. He looks perfect, like something out of a magazine. I smile shyly. He reaches for my wrist and pulls me toward him, until his cock rests against my stomach. His wet lips find my neck and he kisses me. I tilt my head, giving him better access as he makes me squirm.
His cock hardens against my stomach, and I find it with my free hand. I stroke him as we kiss. His touch is tender, and the tenderness is amplified by how much strength I know lies in his hands. He moves them across me, softly and with great care, as if he’s afraid I might break. It’s so different this time. He’s not using me or treating me like something he could toss aside, he’s taking his time, kissing me slowly and deeply and with more passion than any man has ever shown me.
He begins to moan into my mouth as we kiss and I stroke him harder. My other hand roams his broad back, sliding down to the firm muscle of his ass and as much of his thighs as I can reach. I don’t want to stop kissing him, so I keep stroking him even when I know he’s probably aching to plunge inside me. I feel his body tense and even with the warmth of the water against my back and my side, I feel the heat of his cum spray across my belly.
He kisses me a few more tender times, pulling back and smiling softly. “I’ve never enjoyed a handjob that much. Fuck. I could go the rest of my life with just your hands.”
“That’s too bad, because I don’t think I can go the rest of mine without feeling you inside me again.”
His smile turns predatory as he looks down at me. “You’re so fuckin’ dirty. I love it.”
I blush again. He makes me feel so uninhibited.
“What is this?” I ask suddenly.
He looks down where I still grip his cock. “It might be bigger than what you’re used to, but I thought you still knew what it was,” he says with a grin.
I roll my eyes, letting him go and pulling myself against him until my cheek is on his shoulder. I slide my arms around his back and press myself to him, closing my eyes. “No. What is this.” I make a vague, all-encompassing gesture with my hands. “What do you really want out of it?” It’s not exactly the time for asking questions, but I’m overcome by a sudden vulnerability, a need to know this is more than just sex to him.
“You,” he says. His fingers run through my hair, massaging my scalp.
“Why?”
He thinks for a moment. “Because you’re different. Other girls would have run from me about fifteen times by now.” For the first time since I’ve known him, I sense some trepidation in his voice. “You’ve seen the darkness in me and you haven’t run.”
I feel guilty. Have I stopped thinking about running since I met him? Can I really pretend I’ve accepted him? Even now, am I only here with him out of fear? Out of a need for protection? I pull back so I can look into his eyes. The water makes his long eyelashes look even thicker. He’s beautiful, and the way he looks back at me tells me how much the way I feel about him matters to him. My heart pounds in my chest. Maybe he really does see me as more than just a fuck toy.
15
Vincent
I look down at her and feel the emotion welling up in my chest. Get a fuckin’ look at this. Vincent Citrione is pouring his heart out to a girl. What has the world come to? Still, I’m not sorry I said it. It’s true. I’ve never let women get close because I know there’s something black inside me, a darkness and a fire that I can’t ever put out, that I don’t want to put out. But Aubriella is still here. She came in the shower on her own. I didn’t make her. Maybe I didn’t give her much choice in coming here, but this has to mean something.