Hot damn!
His Angel was begging him to continue. “Much obliged, darlin’.” Her close-clipped pussy called to him and he lowered his mouth. Her clit was erect, protruding from its hood, but he avoided it as he pressed his tongue against the opening of her wet pussy. Shit. Clearly, she was turned on. So was he. He adjusted his legs to keep from strangling his erect cock.
Flattening his tongue, he stroked her from her vagina, firm at first, then lightly brushing over her clit, he grinned when she tilted her hips and pressed her pussy into his face. The lady liked that and wanted more.
Not yet, darlin’.
Continuing to avoid her firm pressure on her clit, he licked the sides of the hood, holding her hips down so she wouldn’t be able to control where he touched her. Her groan of frustration succeeded in turning him on even more.
No longer able to resist—or deny her—he pulled the tiny erection into his mouth with his lips and flicked his tongue over the tip, gently at first. Her hips fought to buck upward. Emboldened, he placed his teeth over the hard nubbin and pulled gently between his teeth.
“Oh, God!” Like a trigger, her hips bucked up into his face again. “Mio Dio! I can’t take any more!”
Marc laughed. “Hush, cara. He’s only just starting.”
Damn straight.
“The best is yet to come, cara. Lie back and enjoy the ride.”
Luke pulled back and, with his fingers, opened her outer lips to allow himself a chance to look at her. Her pussy was so beautiful, like the center of a flower. A very wet, pink flower. He lowered himself to her again, wrapping his hands around her thighs to hold her down again as his tongue lightly circled her hood. Her thighs alternately relaxed, then tried to clamp against his head like a vise grip. His cock strained against his jeans. Shit, it had been so damn long.
He paused to take a breath and looked up at her. She lay slumped against Marc, her eyes closed, but arousal written all over her face. She opened her eyes and smiled down at him, waiting. Time to take her the rest of the way on that ride Marc had promised. Luke went down on her again, holding her pussy lips open with his thumbs and preparing to finish what he’d started. He still couldn’t believe his head was between Angel’s thighs pleasing the hell out of her. He smiled.
As he lapped at her sweet juices, he heard her tiny mewling sounds reminding him of a litter of kittens. He could tell by the tremors in her thighs she was getting closer. He took his middle finger and plunged inside her wet pussy. She gasped and squeezed his finger. How much longer could she last? He plunged two fingers inside her. Damn, she was tight.
“Stop!”
Aw, shit, darlin’. Don’t do this to me. You’re so close.
But the lady told him to stop. Luke took several deep breaths in frustration, inhaling her scent before he pulled back to look at her. Her brow was creased in confusion. Hell, he knew this was her first time with oral, but he didn’t want to leave her hanging like this. Still, he couldn’t force her to enjoy the experience either.
“No, don’t stop!”
He smiled. “You sure, darlin’?”
“I don’t know.” He could almost see the warring factions duking it out across her face.
Luke watched Marc stroking her breasts and squeezing her nipples and wondered what it would be like to suck on them, but he had another project to complete first. Maybe she was just on sensory overload. He was pretty damn sure she’d never been with two men at once before. Hell, sharing a woman was new for him, too. But he loved pleasing her and if she wanted two men loving her at once, she’d get it.
“Tell me what you need, Angel.”
“I need…” A look of frustration crossed her face and she closed her eyes.
Don’t shut me out, darlin’.
When she opened them again, she looked as if she’d come to a decision. He held his breath, waiting.
“I need to come.”
He released the pent-up air from his lungs with a laugh. “Damn right, you do. Hang on, baby girl.” Luke lowered his head yet again, hoping he wouldn’t raise it again until she’d exploded against his mouth. Backtracking a bit, he opened her up and licked her vagina, then resumed his tender assault on her clit, building up quickly to firmer strokes. Her tremors told him she was ready.
“Oh, Mio Dio!”
“Voli. Fly apart for him, bella.”
Luke felt her body stiffen. So close. He rammed two fingers inside her as he flicked her tiny erection with his tongue. She arched her back. When he pumped three fingers into her pussy like a piston, her walls clenched and spasmed around them. Shit. So tight.
“Oh, my God! I’m coming!”
Damn right you are, darlin’.
Luke increased the motion of his fingers and tongued her clit faster. When he sucked her nubbin into his mouth, Angelina exploded.
“Mio Dio! Don’t stop! Oh, ohhh, ohhhhh! Yesssssss!” Her body bucked and jolted like a bronco just out of the gate. He wrenched every ounce of the orgasm from her, convinced that, if he and Marc hadn’t been holding her down, she would have flown right off the couch.
He’d done that for her. He smiled as he sat up and looked up at the look of ecstasy on her face.
Hot damn.
* * *
When Angelina collapsed against him, spent, Marc looked down at Luke and made eye contact as his friend leaned back grinning in awe like the cat that had eaten the canary. Only Luke had eaten something much more delightful. His friend’s lips and chin were covered in Angelina’s sweet essence. Marc had no doubt the experience had been as exhilarating for Luke as it had been for Angelina.
Shit, watching Luke going down on Angelina had been pretty damned hot for Marc, as well. She flew apart like no other woman he’d ever known. Total abandon. Shock and awe, as if each time was the first time she’d ever come. He remembered when she’d come for him at the club. Would she ever fly apart like that for him again?
No, he needed to back off. Luke needed her. For Marc, she was merely a want. But could Luke give her what she needed? Could he dominate her? Doubtful.
“Am I dead?” Angelina asked.
“Just a petite mort, my pet. The best kind.” He really shouldn’t call her that. She wasn’t his pet. Probably never would be. Yet it seemed so natural.
She raised her head slightly. “That was…” she paused as she searched for the right words, then shook her head. “I have no words to describe it. I never…just…thank you.”
He watched Luke’s chest swell with pride, then his friend reached up to stroke her cheek. “Don’t thank me, Angel. Having you explode for me like that was…well.” He shrugged and grinned at her.
Well done, my friend. Welcome back to the game.
Still, witnessing the exchange, Marc felt something twist inside him. He’d participated in scenes with multiple partners on many occasions, so, why did it bother him now, with Angelina and one of his best friends?
Mine.
Bullshit. He had no claim on her. Marc shook off the possessive thought and watched as Luke laid his head on her thigh and stroked her other leg from thigh to calf. Angelina tucked her head into Marc’s shoulder. Eyes closed, she hung onto the waning effects of her release, fighting against the inevitable return to earth. Her well-sated body pressing against Marc’s entire length caused his cock to throb.
He felt her stiffen. “Ignore it, cara. My cock has a mind of its own. Just relax.” Her lips curled into a smile as she sank against him again and smiled as he idly stroked the undersides of her breasts. Her nipples had begun to relax to their pre-orgasmic state, then he squeezed her full nipples in his cupped hands and watched them start to swell and harden again.
Dio, she felt so right against his body. He loved her generous curves sprawled open in licentious satisfaction before him. Her head lolled against his upper arm and he looked down at her. Then she smiled, keeping her eyes closed, and reached her hand up to stroke his cheek. Marc’s cock tightened as his hand skimmed over her abdomen toward her pussy.
She laughed, pulling her legs up in a protective manner, closing herself off to him. Ahh, damned ticklishness. He smiled.
“Please, no more! Have mercy, I beg of you!” He returned his hand to her breast, but Dio help him, he couldn’t stop touching her. Having her in his arms again was heaven on earth. He’d thought he’d lost his little angel forever and here she was, lying on top of him.
No, not his angel. If anybody’s, she’d probably be Luke’s angel. Marc needed to keep that in mind tonight, because he wouldn’t let hard feelings come between him and his partner over a woman. Even though Angelina wasn’t just any woman.
Luke stood up, lifted Angelina’s legs, and pulled them together as he sat down again, laying her knees over his thighs. He pulled her skirt down over her knees and stroked her legs. Definitely a leg man. Marc watched as he slid his hand under her skirt to her thighs. She smiled and opened her eyes to look at Luke.
Marc experienced another pang of jealousy. He wanted her to look at him post-orgasm like that. Again. He wanted her all to himself.
“I think you two are the very guys my brothers warned me about all these years.” Her eyes opened wide and she sat upright with sudden realization, turning sideways to face them both in turn. “Wait one minute! Have my brothers been off having all this fun while I’ve been threatened with life in a convent if I so much as let a man touch me?”
They both laughed. The double standard as old as time—what was good for the gander wasn’t good for the gander’s sister.
She soon lost her sense of outrage and slumped back against Marc, laughing.
“You’re past the age of needing their approval, bella. It’s time for you to have some fun, too.”
“No, now it’s your turn.” She tried to sit up again, but Marc pulled her back against him.
“You have pleased us more than you know.”
She sighed. “I don’t know what kind of magic spell you two have cast over me. I’ve never been able to do that without…” He watched her face flush. Ah, so orgasms didn’t come so easily to her. Maybe that explained the shock and awe. And yet, she’d come for both him and Luke. Well, his making her come was dubious under the circumstances. He wished he could experience the power of giving her an orgasm totally under his control.
Marc knew she probably didn’t realize she’d been able to come because he and Luke had restrained her arms and legs. If he could, he’d have shown her how this makes a difference, but it wasn’t his place. If Luke wanted her, Marc wouldn’t stand in his way. He reached down to pull her blouse back over her breasts. The sight of them had become too painful for him.
Her body became heavier against him as she seemed to fall asleep. Luke eased himself out from under her legs and placed a crocheted blanket over her. He went into the head, then the kitchen. Now, wasn’t this the utter definition of torture. To hold a beautiful woman in his arms and know he couldn’t have her?
He watched her sleep and when her eyelids began to flicker and she moaned in pain, Marc’s fingers brushed against the furrows on her forehead, smoothing them out until she relaxed again. She’d been through a lot. He wished he could have protected her from all the pain she’d suffered at the hands of that bastard.
Guilt plagued him for not showing up earlier tonight, but most especially being late for his dungeon monitor duty the night she was beaten so badly. He’d failed her. Twice. Thank God she hadn’t recognized him. There really was no need to tell her who he was or what role he had played that night. Even if she and Luke pursued something beyond tonight, they’d never show up at his club. Luke just wasn’t into that scene.
* * *
Luke set out to wash the last of the dishes from supper, placing them in the dishwasher to drain. He hadn’t wanted to wake Angel to explain how the machine worked and, well, having something to do to keep his hands and mind busy had helped.
Remembering Angel on the couch exploding beneath his lips such a short time ago, he regretted he hadn’t been more insistent in convincing Maggie to let him please her in that way. They’d been married two years, but he’d never gotten past her inhibitions on that front—and many others. He had no doubt he’d have figured out a way to introduce more spice into their love life sooner or later, especially after he started tying her up. But there hadn’t been enough time for them.
Angel seemed to have no such inhibitions; well, once she overcame her initial shyness. Knowing she wasn’t promiscuous made her even sexier. He poured a glass of wine and took a swig, letting it mingle with the essence of Angel still on his tongue.
He reached for a towel and dried his hands and walked over to the refrigerator to put away the leftover meat. His hand froze as he stared into the face of Tony Giardano. The man was dressed in a suit, but no doubt about it, that was Tony. So, what was his picture doing on Angel’s fridge?
He looked at some of the other photos there, until he found a snapshot of six people—an older woman and five adults of a younger generation. Looked like they were dressed for Easter or Mother’s Day or something. There was Angelina—standing next to Tony.
Luke closed his eyes. God damn it all to hell. He felt the wine reflux into the back of his throat. She was a Giardano? What kind of twisted fate would bring Angel into his life only to take her away so fast? What the hell was Maggie trying to do to him?
He didn’t know how long he stood there in the kitchen…numb, heart aching as he thought about what he was going to do. He ran his hand through his hair.
Antonio Giardano’s daughter.
…and by one daughter, his youngest child, Angelina.
Fuck. What were the chances she was anyone other than Angelina Giardano? Now he could put a face to the other names in the obituary—Angela, the mother, Raphael, Franco, Matteo, Antonio Jr.—and Angelina.
Oh, this was rich. He’d come to town worried about running into Tony or Rafe Giardano, who also worked in SAR units. Just his dumb luck, he’d met and fallen—hard—for their baby sister.
He’d been so wrapped up in the message in Maggie’s dream that, when she introduced herself, all he heard was Angel. He didn’t even consider the notion she could be that Angelina. She hadn’t given a last name, which was understandable for a safety reasons in a bar with strangers. She didn’t need a stalker…well, another one.
Marc had to have known her full name, though, in order to call in the report on Allen Martin. Luke had never told his friend the whole story about Maggie’s death, so Marc wouldn’t have made a connection between the names. Luke ran his hand over his face and reached for the bottle of wine.
He just wished he’d been clued in before he’d taken things too far with her on that damned couch. Why hadn’t he been the one to take the food out of the fridge? Maybe he would have seen the photo and put a halt to the attraction then. Regret for what he’d done twisted his guts. At least there was some relief in knowing he hadn’t gone all the way with her.
Still, how could Maggie have sent her to him? Was this her idea of some kind of cosmic reconciliation? She’d never liked conflict or to leave things unresolved. Well, no thanks. He’d owned up to his responsibility by becoming a SAR worker and trying to make amends. He sure as hell didn’t need to confess to the woman he’d deprived of a father.
He filled his wineglass, then picked up the glass and the bottle and headed back to the living room. Not able to even look at the two of them stretched out on the couch, he sat on the overstuffed flowery chair in a darkened corner of the room.
“What’s wrong?” Marc whispered.
“Nothing. I plan to sit here and get rip-roaring drunk.” Then he’d figure out how to walk away from the best thing that had happened to him in seven years.
* * *
Marc’s gaze narrowed on Luke. Something had happened. Had he talked with the sheriff? Was there news about Allen Martin?
He looked down at Angelina sleeping soundly and didn’t want to disturb her, but definitely needed to know what was going on.
“Before you get too far into that bottle, help me get her to bed.”
Luke looked at him as if he’d asked him to pick up a coiled rattler. What was going on? Marc managed to swing his legs off the sofa and then lifted Angelina into his arms before heading down the hallway. He heard Luke following and waited for him to pull down the comforter and sheet so Marc could lay her in bed and cover her up. He stayed to make sure she didn’t awaken, but the flickering of her eyelids told him she was still in a deep sleep.
“Pleasant dreams only, cara.” He stroked a finger along the side of her face.
Marc turned around only to see that Luke had already left. He was going to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. Leaving her door open, in case she needed him, he walked down the hall, hitting the head in the hallway for a much-needed stop after all the wine, before returning to the living room. Luke had returned to the chair and poured a second glass of wine, which he downed swiftly. Had he even tasted the expensive Lombardy wine from Marc’s wine cellar? Then he poured another glass.
Shit. He’d never known his partner to drink to excess. Was Luke upset with Marc for holding Angelina? What was he supposed to do? She’d fallen asleep on him. Or was it… He felt his lungs constrict painfully for the first time since he’d recovered from the hemo-pneumothorax he’d suffered in Fallujah.
“Have you heard something?”
Confused, Luke cocked his head and leaned against the back of the chintz chair.
Marc was losing patience. “What the hell did the sheriff say?”
Luke nodded in understanding. “I just checked, hoping they’d arrested the bastard and we could leave. They found him in the ER—and she did break his nose, by the way.” Marc smiled, but Luke remained serious. “Served him with the protection order. Warned him to stay away from her.” Luke shrugged.
For now, they both knew their hands were tied unless and until Asshole violated the order. By then, it could be too late to protect her.
“She’s not staying here alone,” Marc said.
Luke sobered, well, his expression did. “We’re leaving in the morning.”
“She’s coming with us.” Even if she doesn’t know it yet.
Now just how did he plan to pull that off?
“No!” The wine in Luke’s glass sloshed over the edge and onto his fingers and his jeans. He placed the glass to his lips and drained it, then looked at Marc. “We’ll call her brothers. They’ll keep an eye on her.”
Like hell they will.
Marc needed to find out why his friend was trying to get drunk, which was totally out of character for him. Apparently, he’d started before talking with the sheriff’s department, so something else had happened.
Marc crossed the room and sat on the armrest of the sofa, near Luke’s chair. He hated to see his friend suffering like this. “What’s wrong, Luke? You’re hitting that stuff pretty hard.” Was this about Angelina? “Look, we agreed to leave it up to her to decide, but I told you I wouldn’t pursue her if you wanted her.”
Luke dangled the now-empty glass between his knees and waved his other hand dismissively. He shook his head. “No need. She’s all yours.”
What the fuck was he thinking? Luke never walked away from something he wanted—and Marc had no doubt he wanted Angelina. Marc had admired his persistence and determination. When he set his mind to something, he damned well achieved it. Of course, Luke hadn’t gone after a woman since his wife had died—until now. Maybe he was just scared.
Dio, she scares the hell out of me, too.
But Luke would have to be blind not to notice that Angelina had feelings for him, too. “Don’t you think she should have something to say about who she wants?”
“No. We…aren’t compatible.”
Marc would have laughed, if his friend didn’t look so fucking miserable. “If you were any more compatible, she’d have been jumping your bones, as you’d say.”
Luke raised his head to meet his gaze. The ache in his friend’s eyes squeezed the breath from his lungs. “That was before.” Marc came close to shaking some sense into him when he heard him say, “She can’t find out what I did.”
“What are you talking about?”
Luke shook his head in defeat and closed his eyes, laying his head in the crook of the wingback chair. He looked like he’d aged a decade since he’d pleasured Angelina an hour or so ago.
Marc stood and reached over to take the glass out of Luke’s hand and set it on the coffee table, then grabbed the blanket that had been covering Angelina and used it to cover his friend. Given how much he’d had to drink in such a short time, it was probably safer if he remained upright, so he’d let him sleep it off in the chair.
Maybe Luke would see straighter in the morning—if he wasn’t too hung over to see.
* * *
“Red!”
Marc opened his eyes and waited for them to adjust to his surroundings. Where was he? He straightened out his cramped legs and hit the footboard. What the…looking down, he saw it wasn’t a footboard but an armrest. He was sleeping on a sofa.
He remembered where he was at last. Angelina’s living room. Shit. Some watch guard he was. Sleeping on duty. He looked over at Luke, who was passed out in a chair. What had awoken him?
“Mio Dio! Stop!”
Angelina! Marc sprang off the sofa and bounded down the hallway before his mind registered anything other than that Allen Martin had returned.
Please don’t let me be too late this time.
He entered the open door of the bedroom, expecting to find Asshole attacking her. She was alone in the bed.
“Hurts.”
Her whimper reminded him of when she’d come out of deep subspace. Oh, Dio. A nightmare. He crossed the room to the bed and touched her shoulder to awaken her.
“Wake up, Angelina. You’re safe now.”
When she didn’t respond, he scooped her into his arms and sat on the edge of the bed, cradling her.
“Shhh. It’s over.”
She shook her head. “Not real.”
“That’s right, cara. Only a dream.”
“But I wish you were real; my first Dom.”
He smiled, because he’d been wishing the same thing ever since he’d met her. So, apparently, she wasn’t thinking about Sir Asshole anymore. Did she remember Marc holding her that night at the club?
Ha! Dream on, man.
But wasn’t it interesting she’d been dreaming of a Dom. He hoped Luke could give her what she longed for sexually. The thought of her needs not being met made his chest ache. She’d be an awesome submissive to train. Perhaps he could help her to express her interests in the kink and even offer to talk with Luke on her behalf, if she was too shy at first. Marc just didn’t know if Luke was interested in pursuing the lifestyle. He had some Dom tendencies, but had been uninterested in the club visit. Maybe it was just too soon after his wife’s death.
She stirred restlessly in his arms and he held her tighter. He brushed his hand over her hair, feeling his groin tighten. “I have you, cara.”
But only for tonight.
Luke would come to his senses soon and see she was the most perfect woman in the world. Every man’s dream. Marc closed his eyes. She certainly fulfilled his dreams. He regretted he would never be her Dom.
Shit. He had it bad. What the hell was he going to do about her?
Nothing.
“Open your eyes, pet.”
She blinked and looked up at him.
“Marc?”
“Yes, Amore. You had a nightmare.”
“Allen and my d…never mind.”
Had she been about to say “my Dom”? Or someone she wished were her first Dom?
“You can tell me, cara. I have been the keeper of many secrets.” As the Navy corpsman for the Marine unit, he’d been trained to be someone the troops came to for advice or just to unload their anxieties.
“Sometimes I’m angry at him for spoiling my fantasy.”
“What fantasy is that?” He wondered if she’d mention the club.
“It’s too embarrassing.”
“Fantasies are supposed to be a bit illicit. Forbidden. That’s what makes them so exciting.” Her breathing grew more rapid and shallow. Thoughts of her fantasy clearly turned her on. He wished she would share it with him.
“I read…well, erotic books a lot. Romances, but with a kinky side to them.”
“What type of kink?”
Her body grew tense and he stroked her arm to relax her. This could be an interest conversation.
“Promise you won’t laugh or get all weird? It’s not my fantasy anymore.”
More’s the pity. Asshole bastard ought to be horsewhipped for destroying her desire to explore her fantasies.
“I assure you your fantasies would be tame compared to mine.”
She laughed. “Probably so.” Her hand played with a button on his shirt front. “I used to be excited about being…tied down. Restrained. By someone…a man who is dominant.”
He felt his groin tighten and his own breathing grow more shallow. Control yourself, man. “Why do you say used to? Fantasies usually are pretty deep-seated and don’t vanish very easily.”
“Well, this one got beaten out of me.”