Home > The Don : The Oath Duet (The Valentini Family #1)(9)

The Don : The Oath Duet (The Valentini Family #1)(9)
Author: Serena Akeroyd

I let him guide me to the car, then daintily accepted his hold as, once the driver opened the door, I climbed into the backseat.

When he moved away to join me, the driver shut me in, and I was alone for a second in the expensive vehicle.

It was the first time I’d been alone all evening, and it was oddly intense. Each breath felt supercharged, and I swore it was because his coat drowned me in his scent. I’d once read about pheromones and how they were nonsense, but Luciu made a believer out of me.

The heated leather seats were warm against the backs of my cold thighs, and I relaxed, letting the heat sink into me as Luciu eventually climbed in beside me. The second he did, he pushed a button and a privacy screen popped up between us and the driver.

Expectation and, even stranger, nerves overwhelmed me.

I gulped when the engine roared, breaking into the silence that fell between us. As we began to drive out of the garage, I half expected him to haul me onto his lap or something, to let the embers that burned between us flicker into being.

But he didn’t.

It grew quieter.

And quieter.

And quieter.

Jesus, it grew so quiet that I could hear my breathing. Every exhalation and inhalation sounded shaky and oh, so loud. Enough that it embarrassed me. The tension in the air, the vibrancy and energy were awe-inspiring. It made me feel as if we were in a vacuum. One that swallowed everything else up, everything that wasn’t us, and made this the center of the universe.

Our universe.

I wondered if he was as aware of me as I was of him. I wondered if this was all me, if I was being stupid and crazy… then, his hand settled on mine.

A low moan escaped me as our fingers collided, skin brushing against skin, heat rebounding into heat, and as they tangled, he reached for me with his other hand, drawing me closer, nearer to him, so that his arm was around my shoulders.

It was second nature to twist a little, to rest my head against his throat, to have him encompass me in his strength, to let down my walls so he could hop inside at a moment where I felt sure I was the most vulnerable I’d ever been in my life.

I stared out onto the city, well aware that even if it were daylight, no one would be able to see in here. It made me feel our isolation more, and I loved it.

Wanted it.

Craved more.

Needed like I’d never needed before.

Then, everything changed.

It was quite accidental.

A sharp turn around a bend had us jostling into each other. Nothing crazy. But our hands slipped, and the edge of mine brushed against his crotch.

He had a hard-on.

He had a hard-on, yet he wasn’t pawing at me. Wasn’t treating me like I was a whore. Was holding me as if I were the opposite, in fact.

His control was lust-inducing.

His arousal was inspiring.

And I wanted both.

I wanted his control ruptured.

His arousal burned off.

On me.

I turned my face to the side, letting my lips press against his throat. His pulse bobbed as a result and as I let my tongue dart out to play, he groaned, and I felt the soft vibrations. Encouraged, I sucked down, nipping and teasing as I made my way up, soft kisses dancing against the line of his jaw where I could feel the slight bumps of stubble that would begin to grow soon.

Finally, I found his mouth. Reaching up with my free hand, I encouraged him to tilt his head downward so our lips could meet.

A whimper escaped me when they did.

It felt as if I’d been waiting a lifetime for this moment, for the meeting of our mouths, for this kiss. Time stopped still, everything in me freezing as my body processed the rightness of the connection between us.

He growled.

I felt that in my pussy.

He shifted.

His hard-on rubbed against my hip.

He tugged me onto his lap.

I spread my legs, my knees cupping him as I let our sexes collide.

I groaned as I rocked my hips, letting his cock rub against my softness, each pass nudging my clit and making me see fireworks.

At fourteen, I’d done dirtier deeds than this when I was sneaking around with Jonny MacLeod, but this was a thousand times more sinful.

When his hands relinquished their hold on me, I groaned when he slid one along my cheekbone before he slipped it down and around to cover the side of my throat.

As he did so, I didn’t even care that he might have smudged my makeup. I was more interested in the way he squeezed slightly, using his hold on me to haul me into him further.

I wasn’t going to complain.

With a groan, I parted my lips, and I pressed my tongue to the seam of his mouth. He immediately let me inside, and I growled, loving the wet slip and slide as we started a kiss that felt like a precursor to a dance.

His free hand went to my hips, and he encouraged me to grind into him, a little harder, a lot deeper. I cupped his face, tipping him how I wanted him, craving more, craving everything he had to give, craving everything I could take.

The price of his shoes, suit, and watch didn’t matter worth a damn at that moment.

All I knew was this kiss.

Fuck.

It was like I’d been breathing tainted air all my life and this was my first inhalation of oxygen.

The taste of him was exquisite, like a drug, and I knew I was hooked, knew I’d die to get another hit.

He pulled back to nip at my bottom lip, but I didn’t let him stop. I thrust my tongue back into his mouth, loving how he let me fuck him there, then I groaned when his hand shifted, ceasing to encourage me to grind into him and encouraging me to kneel instead.

His coat drifted from my shoulders with the move as he lifted up the short hem of my dress, and his fingers proceeded to rub along the crease of my G-string, slipping the fabric between my folds, before he dragged the tips over my clit.

A gasp escaped me, and I froze, pulling back so that I could breathe, but his hand on my nape held me close, so that every exhalation brushed his mouth, so that he could feel me as I could feel him.

I closed my eyes as I rested my forehead against his, then moaned long and low as he drew glowing embers into sparks of pleasure that I knew would turn into a conflagration if he took this further.

For the first time in my life, I wanted that.

I could almost feel his cock thrusting into me.

His dick would be the first non-silicone toy to take my pussy, and I wanted that so goddamn badly that I climaxed.

Then and there.

It was really difficult for me to get off, mostly because sex was a weapon, a tool I used to get what I wanted, but here, now, I exploded.

Detonated.

It was short and sharp and, worst of all, addictive. It surged through my body thanks to my racing heart and sank into my fucking bones.

It was delirium.

It was exquisite.

It was heaven.

My head tipped back, spine arching with the force of what he made me feel, then his mouth was on my throat, and he sucked down, hard. Hard enough to leave a mark tomorrow. Hard enough for my pulse to ricochet against his lips.

His teeth came next, and the sharp sting sent even more ecstasy slaloming through my veins. His fingers moved faster; his hand must have been a blur as he did the impossible.

A second orgasm hit me.

Like a one-two punch, it flayed me, turned my insides out and my outsides in. I felt reborn in my desire, alive with his passion.

And through it all, those teeth of his stayed buried in my throat—I adored him for it.

The car came to a halt long before either of us realized it. Whether the driver didn’t disturb us because this was a regular act in Luciu Valentini’s sideshow, or because he didn’t have a death wish, I only registered that we’d stopped when my heart ceased pounding away like I’d done three spinning classes back-to-back.

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