Page 118 of The Devil Can Be Kind
“If there is something you want to ask, just ask it.”
I hesitated a moment, not sure I wanted the answer to the question on my lips. “She was your booty call the other night, wasn’t she?”
He let out a heavy breath, “Yes.”
Pain twisted in my chest.
He had slept withherafter we had kissed, the day after I told him I wasn’t ready. Had he had gone toherbecause I wasn’t giving him what he wanted? I shook my head in disbelief, my expression darkening with anger.
“I did go to hers that night,” he admitted. “But nothing happened. I realized I didn’t want to be there, and I left.”
“Do you really expect me to believe that?” I demanded, then shook my head dejectedly and shrugged. “You know what, it doesn’t even matter. You’re a Don and can do whatever the fuck you want,” I said, resigning myself to that knowledge and pretending it didn’t hurt.
He scoffed. “Maybe once.” He shook his head, stepping toward me. “Lately there’s this annoying dark-haired, blue-eyed succubus that keeps popping up to ruin everything,” he said with a small chuckle, winding his arms around me.
“Gee, thanks,” I muttered sarcastically, but my heart stuttered at the meaning in his words.
He lowered his eyes to look at me, “I’m not lying to you, Ada. Nothing happened.”
I could see the truth in his eyes and the furrow of his brow.
A half-smile pulled at my lips, telling him I believed him.
Marco’s head dropped to my neck, and he began caressing my skin with his lips, sucking gently. I sighed, my hands knotting in his hair as my body pressed tightly against him. His lips moved to seal against mine and he gripped the back of my thighs, lifting me onto the nearby table. I captured one of his plush lips, giving it a small suck before allowing my tongue to explore his mouth. He stepped between my legs, pulling the material of the dress higher against my thighs.
“What is it with you and black fucking lace?” He breathed against my lips, yanking the material down.
“You don’t like my panties?” I questioned, moving to suck on his throat.
“Yes, I fucking like your panties. I just like them more when they’re on the floor.”
He tossed the material over his shoulder before sinking to his knees in front of me.
Less than a second after his head dipped between my thighs, I felt his tongue against my sensitive skin. I groaned as warmth flooded through me, sending tingles dancing into my belly. I leaned back onto a forearm as I tangled my other hand into his hair, scraping my nails against his scalp as his tongue teased my entrance. He ran one of his large hands over the material of mydress and up over my chest, my neck, not stopping until two of his fingers pushed their way into my mouth.
I sucked on them and swirled my tongue.
“Good girl.” He praised.
Then he thrust the newly wet fingers inside me in a swift, blissful motion.
I moaned and my back arched against the table, hips rolling into him. His tongue flicked once more, and my body flushed with heat as a welcomed tension started to swell and grow.
Then a knock sounded at the door.
Marco ignored whoever was on the other side, his mouth continuing its beautifully torturous path.
The knock sounded again, followed by Layton’s voice. “Sorry Boss, it’s urgent. Mr. Fanelli’s here.”
Marco froze. “Fuck,” He cursed quietly.
To my instant disappointment, Marco rose to his feet and pulled my dress back into place.
He picked up my panties from the floor and tossed them in my direction, “I’m sorry, baby. I gotta take care of this.”
He abruptly turned and left the room before I could respond.
Not knowing what the hell was going on or what Mr. Fanelli being at the restaurant even meant, I quickly slid the material back into place and followed behind him.
