Page 38 of The Mastermind
Fuck me.
Fuckmefuckmefuckme.
My blood rushed so fast south it left me lightheaded and ridiculously grateful I was propped up against the side of her bed. Otherwise I would’ve folded like a soft pretzel at the sight of Maddelena Mancinelli splayed on the rumpled sheets like my every Christmas and birthday wish rolled into one.
Her shapely legs hadn’t fallen open and she’d kept them tucked together – much to my regret – when I’d tumbled her backwards. But she wasn’t rushing to cover up her tits in some overblown display of coyness.
So I could feast on those glorious blush-rose peaks, caught in the vicious teeth of arousal heightened even more by the mix of innocence and siren.
She gnawed on her bottom lip as she watched me with those wide, sexy, alluring dark blue eyes.
‘Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are? How insane it drives me to want you like this?’
She made another of those infuriatingly sexy sounds, a cross between a whimper and a moan. Her supple thighs rubbedtogether and her nipples tightened, straining harder, and so damn gorgeous my mouth watered. Lowering a hand to my fly, I gripped my cock, grimacing, when I felt a spurt of pre-cum dampen my sensitive crown.
My irritation with the hacker’s silence had driven me from bed an hour ago. Coupled with Narciso snatching another pole position, frustration had bubbled over and I’d been driven from my suite when my prowling had got on my own nerves. I’d left my hotel room with no particular destination in mind until I’d found myself in her hotel lobby.
I’d thought, fuck it, if I was suffering, she needed to suffer too. And possibly give me some answers, including why her sister, the one with the shadowy history, was in Baku City. There were whispered rumours about Sofiya Mancinelli that warranted we keep a sharper-than-normal eye on her.
And I’d handed that task over to Rafaelle.
I couldn’t deny that my head had driven me here as much as my cock even though I hadn’t thought our conversation would end this way. Although if I was being honest, the second I saw she was naked under the covers, a substantial part of my brain had leaked out of my ears.
I gripped my dick again and reached for my fraying control. ‘Open your legs,beddamia. Show me that pussy I’ve waited a fucking decade and a half to see,’ I grunted like a heathen.
Her eyelashes fluttered, her eyes drifting down to half-mast. I realised she was staring at the hand I was stroking over my cock, those puffy lips still caught between her teeth.
She wanted me, but she was fighting her instinct, her reality.
I almost felt sorry for her because I was in the same position. For whatever reason, the cosmos had decided that Maddelena Mancinelli and I would be furnace-hot for each other without considering the potential consequences.
And fuck me, right in this moment, neither was I.
My breath strangled in my lungs as she slowly, excruciatingly, parted her beautiful legs.
My first sighting of her pussy made me want to recite every gratitude Sunday school prayer I had learnt. She was beautiful. Her slit was wet and pink, the thin triangle of hair above it neatly trimmed. Saliva surged in my mouth with the need to taste. To devour.
She stopped when her knees were a half foot apart. I fought the feral urge to grip them and nudge them wider. To keep going until she was fully exposed to my hungry gaze. But I took it slow, dragging my fingertips from her ankles to her calves to circle the top of her knees and back again.
She squirmed in the bed, her eyes darting between my fingers, my face, and my cock.
On my next circuit, I trailed my fingers down the middle of her upper thighs to the curve of her hip. A soft moan popped out, and I had to clench my teeth to stop from falling on her andtaking, taking, taking.
She was so fucking soft, her creamy skin like a warm lure of silk. I had the insane notion that I could stroke her skin forever.
Her belly dipped beneath my exploration and then quivered as I circled her belly button on my way up to the bottom curve of tits I’d touched once and spent fucking years dreaming about.
Her heart thrummed beneath my fingertips as I splayed them over her flesh.
‘Your heart is racing,bedda,’ I muttered. ‘Out of fear or excitement, I wonder?’
Tiny sparks lit the eyes that flicked up at me. ‘I’m not afraid of you,’ she whispered huskily.
I smiled. ‘No? Perhaps that’s where we’ve all gone wrong?’
I closed my hand over the firm mound of her right breast, unable to stop the thick groan that left my throat at the sublime feel of her.
It was the perfect, glorious handful, but I knew if I gave in to the urge to taste them, there would be no walking away. So I toyed with her nipple, gloried in the arch of her back as she continued to squirm beneath me.
