Carmine

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“By whom?” Eva whispers, her breath tickling my neck while my cock is so hard it could punch through my zipper.

I push her behind me to ensure she stays out of sight just as a short, bald man walks through the entrance of the cemetery – a guy whom I believe I saw earlier today as well. Goddammit! Ordinarily, I’m much more perceptive, but just being around Eva messes with my mind in ways that no woman ever has.

And that kiss was bound to happen. Eva succeeded in tempting me with her soft yet wild lips. Her tentative touch sets my skin on fire. It’s been way too fucking long, and my resolve to not fuck her is wavering. Suddenly, I recall that I once told her that I wouldn’t fuck her until she begged me, and I smirk inwardly, because if she sleeps in my bed one more time, I might spread her wide and thrust inside her tight heat without considering the consequences. I tamp the thought down and concentrate.

“The bald guy at the entrance. He didn’t see you. Stay behind me,” I order, but she’s pressed so close against my back that I sense her anxiety.

As I assess the situation, she clutches my hand like she often does, and surprisingly, I don’t dislike it with her. The man is probably a guard who was sent by either Roman or Gwen to tail me. If I want to safeguard my position in the Syndicate, I can’t have them discover that I have Eva. I start moving backward, and she mirrors my steps.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re using a different exit.” I motion to a group just ahead of us. “When those five people pass us, we turn and run to the left, toward the end of the hedgerow, okay?”

“Okay,” she agrees as they go by, hiding us from view.

“Run. Now!” I command, and she takes off with me trailing behind her.

We come to a stop at the hedge, looking over it to the street about five feet below.

As we simultaneously glance sideways at each other, she frowns deeply and I point down. “I say we go.”

“Um, I say we don’t,” she counters, surveying the distance with wide eyes, and I can’t help but smile.

“You’re afraid of heights?”

“No...Maybe...A little.”

Over to our left, however, there’s a metal staircase, so I yank her to it. I’m about to order her to get moving, but her uncertain expression softens me and I instruct her, “Come on,” bending down a little to allow her to climb onto my back, and since she’s barely eating, she weighs nothing.

“Hold on to me.”

Her arms wind around my throat, choking me, so I add, “Not so tight.”

“Sorry,” she responds as I step on the staircase, and when it rattles, she grunts into my neck.

“Close your eyes, and don’t open them until I tell you to.” I descend as fast as I can with her arms and legs wrapped around me.

“Oh, my god,” she mutters as I slip, missing my footing.

“We’re okay,” I comment, yet she constricts her arms, her mouth muffled at my nape.

When we reach the bottom, I hop onto the ground and put my hand on her ass to guide her as she slides down my back. Once she’s steady, I cup the side of her face in reassurance, and then I scan the street before seizing her hand and tugging her with me to my BMW parked around the corner.

We jump into the car, relieved to have gotten out of there unharmed, and I drive home at the speed of light.

***

Inside my apartment, I fling my keys onto the coffee table, pacing to the windows. With a grunt, I pull my fingers through my hair and lock them at the back of my head. It was too dangerous to take Eva out.

As I’ve gotten to know her, my interest in the little thief hasn’t lessened. Instead, it prompts me to do things I shouldn’t. I’m lying to the Syndicate and pretending to be searching for Eva, risking my rank in the process. Additionally, while I should have already contacted Gwen, I’ve been working around the clock with a soldier to supervise the covert disposal of the bodies.

Unfortunately, every day I’m with her, the boundaries I set are being crossed and all the lines blur. But my endgame is the same – after I’ve concluded my business, she must leave the Loop.

Though when I endeavor to right my world on its axis, she obliterates my progress by sleeping in my bed and awakening the deepest longings in me. I’m not a good man by any means, but I seem to be unable to deny her help. Especially since she sees so much more in me than other women do. Others are attracted to my power, but my power seems to annoy her. Yet she’s opened up when I’ve treated her more fairly. She’s wise for her age and sexy in how cleverly she’s assessed me.

As she does now, stopping beside me. “Who was the man?”

“My guess is that Roman has someone following me.”

“Did he follow us home?”

Us? Home? Her words disconcert me, and I realize I’m muddling the lines for her as well. “I don’t think so.”

Silence stretches on while she studies me before suddenly asking, “Why are you doing so much to help me?”

“It’s not much,” I reply. Deep down, I’m not even sure why. It’s partly because assisting Eva relieves the guilt plaguing me.

“Yes, it is.”

“Because if I hadn’t taken you that night and had just let you go with Liam, you wouldn’t have gotten tortured. You would have received your money and gotten out unscathed as you had planned.”

“You feel guilty?” she asks, astounded. “It’s not your fault. It’s Roman and Gwen’s.”

“I know that, but do you even realize how beaten up you were? I can’t abide by that!”

“Why not?”

“Because I believed you when you told me you got caught up in this mess due to me. Because it was so evident how much fear Roman had crushed into you. Your fierceness was gone; it is gone.”

“It’s not gone,” she protests. “It’s just buried under a layer of grief.”

I catch her frown as if she grasps I’m still not revealing everything, but a knock on the door has us spinning around, and I bring my finger to my lips before I signal downstairs, whispering, “Don’t make a—”

“...sound. Yeah, yeah, I know the drill,” she interrupts, tiptoeing backward while holding my gaze. “At least you asked me nicely instead of your usual shut up.”

I feel my lips twitching as a hint of her cheekiness returns. “Move, little thief.” I edge forward, matching her steps, and she dramatically bows.

“Yes, King.” Showing me a tentative grin through her sorrow, she rotates and sneaks down the stairs as I close the distance to the door and open it.

“Carmine, your brother told me you’d probably be home,” my mother says, treading inside with two containers of food and freshly baked rustic Italian bread. “I cooked for you.”

“Momma, you’re the best. I’m famished.” My mother’s a godsend who stocks my fridge frequently, so with all the odd hours I work, I always have home cooked meals. Since I have a huge appetite, that’s quite handy.

“I’ll just drop the chicken parm in the kitchen and then I’m gone. I have to go meet Mary. She wants us to do something together because the lupus kicked my ass last week.”

I shift to the sofa, shoving Eva’s Nordstrom bags under it with my foot to hide them.

She returns quickly, informing me, “Adriano seems to be worried about you.”

Alarm crawls up my spine. “Why do you think that?”

“He didn’t say anything specifically, but he asked me if I know why you’ve been so distracted the last few weeks. Is everything okay, my son?”

Fuck. Adriano’s beginning to suspect that something’s going on. I’m so consumed with other priorities that my work is slacking. “I’m fine. Just tired and possibly a little reflective.”

“Maybe you should settle down,” she advises and kisses my cheek before hurrying to the door. “Be at family dinner Friday. Don’t miss it again; your father and I miss you.”

“I’ll be there,” I promise right before she shuts the door, and I wait for someone to come back upstairs, knowing it won’t be long.

When I turn my head, I see her already peeking up the stairs. “You can come up.”

Eva ascends the steps, having shed her coat and boots, and trails me as I relocate to the kitchen, needing some sustenance since I missed lunch. So I walk into my massive, black and white U-shaped kitchen, and my mother has left the bread and two containers of food on the island.

As I remove my suit jacket and hang it on the back of one of the stools, Eva watches me intently, and I sense she’s dying to speak. But I begin opening containers and moving around the island to get plates from the cabinet.

Of course, before I’ve turned back to her, she asks, “Does your mother have lupus?”

I tilt my head to the side knowingly – Eva literally heard her say it.

As she pulls a chair back, she mutters, “That’s why you’re helping me? Do you take care of your mother?”

There’s no need for denial since she was eavesdropping. “Yes, my brother and I pay for everything for my parents, so I know what it’s like to take care of a relative.” After setting the plates on the island, I slide open the top drawer and toss utensils onto the black granite counter, realizing that the only woman who knows this much about my personal life besides my mother is Eva Conley.

“I’ll be forever grateful. Thank you,” she whispers, sitting down on the stool opposite me.

No one ever thanks me, because I rarely do anything without creating debts; however, she doesn’t owe me.

“Don’t thank me. I have selfish motives. You need to think about what you’re going to do once you leave,” I instruct, and she impresses me with her response.

“I have thought about that, and I’ll have to access the money you deposited into my bank account, so I need to order a new debit card. I also need to order a replacement driver’s license. And I have to find work. I hope I can get a job as a waitress again fast.”

I’ve already arranged for my assistant to get her a new driver’s license and debit card, but I don’t mention it yet.

“You’re much more clever than you give yourself credit for. You should go back to college.”

Her astonished gaze is pinned on me while I spoon out a serving from the casserole dish and put it on her plate.

“College costs a lot of money,” she utters.

“You could look into community college.”

She waves my comment away. “That’s all so far in the future. I need to focus on the present and getting out of this first so that I can have a normal life again.”

“You’ll never have a normal life again, Eva. You’re not an ignorant civilian anymore; you’ve seen things. Make sure you always look over your shoulder.”

She makes a face. “This is not making me eager to continue my life.”

“It’s just some friendly advice.” I give myself a huge portion of chicken too.

“Are you my friend, Carmine?” she asks, and I pretend not to hear her as I claim my seat, placing a foot on the metal footrest.

“What is this?”

“Chicken parmesan.” I load up my fork, shoveling it into my mouth.

“Oh, it looks delicious. Can I heat it up a little?” Eva picks up her plate and moves to the left of the row of four built-in ovens.

“Sure.”

She stands before them uneasily and then glances back at me. “Um, which one do I use?”

Grinning, I say, “The first one.”

And I observe her as she pulls open the door, places her plate inside, closes it, and then stares at the numerous chrome buttons, bringing her fingers up and lingering over several of them before sighing and, without turning, asking, “There are a million buttons. How does it work?”

My smile grows wider, and she pipes in, “I can see you,” pointing at the reflection of the glass oven door.

I shift behind her, pressing the start button so that it heats for thirty seconds, and whisper against the shell of her ear, “There you go.”

As she looks up, her soft hair tickles my chin, and I step back when she taunts, “Why do you have sixteen ovens?”

I shrug and return to my seat to continue eating. “I have no idea.”

“All for show,” she mumbles, retrieving her plate from the microwave while I’m already getting seconds.

The spicy scent wafts around, and she digs in, obviously hungry. “Oh, my god. This is so good.”

“My mother’s a great cook.”

“Apparently.” She chows down on the chicken.

After a few moments of silence, I sit back while she devours everything on her plate. Generally, I eat most of the food, but this time, she’s got me beat by a long shot, and I wonder how often she’s been hungry.

Although it’s not my concern, I still put in, “Maybe you can get an administrative job. That pays better than being a waitress.”

“I have no experience. Who’s going to hire me? You?” A dimple forms in her cheek as we lock eyes, both of us realizing there’s a time limit on whatever this is.

Under any other circumstances, I might have hired her. But that scenario is impossible.

“Like I told you before, I’m a waitress and a...you know.”

“Like I told you, you’re also a sister and will always be one. You’re also a daughter, even though you have no parents. And I’m sure you’ve been a lover...”

“So we’re back to whore?” Eva takes another huge bite.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” I contemplate why she’s defensive about sex. “Was it never good, Eva?”

She chews, annoyed, looking out the huge windows at the Chicago skyline. “Of course not. I don’t know what it’s like to be with someone who simply wants to be with me. I’d just like a guy to hold me afterward. It’s always...distant. Even before, when it wasn’t work yet, it was weird.” She avoids my gaze which is glued to her smooth, heart-shaped face.

There’s always a distance for me too. I’ve had it with every woman I’ve been with. Although my hook-ups usually want to snuggle, I always bolt, making them feel like Eva does. For the very first time, I’m confronted with the consequences of casual sex. In addition, the thought of her with other men leaves a foul taste in my mouth, and I realize full well that it shouldn’t faze me.

But morbid curiosity prevails, and I demand, “How many men have you been with?”

Her grey eyes round and her hand stops midair. Then she lowers her arm as she leans back. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“In total?”

I let out an impatient sigh. “Yes.”

Eva tilts her head to the side. “Eight.”

I frown in shock, expecting a different number. I’ve been with many, many more women. “What? And how many were clients from Club 7?”

“Seven.”

My shock deepens, shadowed by sadness. “Are you saying that you’ve only been with one guy by choice?”

“Yes, and he wasn’t memorable.” She picks up her fork again, finishing another serving of chicken and emptying the dish.

Not knowing how to respond, which is my own damn fault because I shouldn’t have asked, I stay quiet. Then, out of nowhere, I realize that I’ve never had lunch at home.

“How many women have you been with?” her husky voice breaks through the stillness, and my eyes cut to her.

“We’re not having that conversation.” I raise a brow, to which she narrows her gaze, grinning slightly.

“That’s not fair.”

“Little thief, I never play fair.”

She pushes her plate away and murmurs, “I couldn’t care less anyway.” Then her brows knit together as she looks heavenward, contemplating. “Or wait, I mean, I could care less. Shit, I forgot what the correct expression is.”

Laughing at her cute confusion, I throw my head back and then I hear her giggling – a noise she hasn’t made in a long time.

As I lean forward, closer to Eva, I hold her stare. “You mean I couldn’t care less, but I think you care.”

Her lashes lift as she chuckles. “Ah, mister arrogant is back.” Eva’s smile grows wider before it promptly fades, and sorrow coats her face. “It’s weird to laugh.”

“Because you haven’t in two days,” I tell her. “You’re allowed to laugh. Life goes on.”

“I know. There just wasn’t anything to laugh about the past few days.”

My hand shifts forward on its own accord to cup her face, but my phone interrupts as it chimes in. I snatch it out of the pocket of my suit jacket, reading a message from my soldier, Tarek, that he burned Roman’s guard’s body at the warehouse without anyone else present. While I type a message back to commend him and remind him to keep this under wraps from the captains, I saunter into the living room, also instructing him to deliver Brandon’s belongings to me.

Going back toward the kitchen, I see that Eva’s loading the dishwasher. The island is spotless, so she clearly wiped the counter. She appears more relaxed when she’s busy, yet as I grab my jacket, she finishes up and shuts the dishwasher.

“Are you leaving?” she probes.

“Yeah.” I slide one arm into my jacket.

She opens her mouth twice before closing it and saying cautiously, “I don’t want to be alone.”

My arm is halfway inside my sleeve when my movement stops, and I merely regard her, astonished at her blatant honesty.

I should go.

I should start thinking about a strategy of how to convince Adriano that the escort he’s searching for is of no importance.

I should not get more deeply involved with this woman who fascinates me on an irresistibly agonizing level.

But I don’t put on my jacket. I don’t leave. Instead, I hang it back in its original place. “I have to work, so you can’t talk my ears off,” I warn as a smirk pulls at her lips.

“Fine. I’ll shut up.”

“You can watch a movie,” I inform, but she’s already strutting into the living room, turning toward the sofa.

However, I continue forward and descend the staircase. “You can watch downstairs.”

She tracks behind me while I get the remote from the seating area against the floor to ceiling windows that face the flat screen. Turning on the TV, I hand her the remote and she accepts it before lounging on the couch and going through the apps until she finds Netflix.

I go into the walk-in closet, trading my suit for black sweat pants. I’m not often home during the day, but when I am, I don’t walk around in a suit.

When I return to my bedroom, she’s searching for a movie, yet as she glances at my exposed chest twice, she states, “I want to put on something comfortable too.”

“Wear one of my dress shirts.” I get my laptop from the bed and sit on the couch, powering on my notebook.

I check my emails, answering several of them, and I also have to review a financial document for an upcoming audit at Club 7 because, as Consigliere, I ensure our money is laundered properly. Meanwhile, I text my assistant to purchase some nightgowns and a robe in size small from Nordstrom, and Eva returns in a white dress shirt before perching on my bed.

“You can lie down if you want to,” I remark, and she moves back while I type on my laptop, concentrating on my work.

After I don’t know how long, I realize that I haven’t even noticed Eva’s presence while she’s been engrossed in an action movie. She’s being so quiet and still that I would have forgotten she’s there, except for her scent filtering through the air.

“You like action movies?”

“Yeah.” The little minx cocks one knee up and rests her ankle on it, continually drawing my gaze to her toned legs like a magnet.

I manage to answer most of my emails; I’ve never worked from home, and I’m enjoying this sense of not feeling rushed and only having to worry about myself. Usually, as soon as I step outside the door, I’m playing mind games with everyone around me. It’s how the life of the Syndicate’s Consigliere works. But I can’t complain, because the fortune and supremacy with which we rule compensate for everything.

Time flies and around dinnertime, I mention I’m hungry. Before I realize it, Eva’s roaming around my kitchen and comes back to the bedroom with big portions of heated up Italian food.

While she watches a second movie, we eat our food in comfortable silence. It appears she doesn’t suppress her grief, knowing that’ll just make it worse. Once in a while, she gets lost in thought and swipes away a tear, yet she’s fighting not to drown in anguish, which is quite impressive considering her uncertain future. It’s a position I can’t imagine being in as the counselor of the Syndicate. For me, everything gets taken care of at the drop of a hat, and my future is set in stone.

But you’re risking it all at the moment, a pesky voice whispers. Though I disregard it, which I should never have done.

Eva clears the plates again and is such an ideal houseguest. And it bothers me that nothing about this woman annoys me anymore.

Around nine p.m., I switch off my laptop just as she’s searching for another movie, and as I walk to the bed, she sits up.

“You can sleep here, but stay on your side,” I order and resist her pull with great effort.

“Okay,” she mumbles, getting under the covers. “Last movie of the day, I promise. It distracts me.”

“Watch however long you want to,” I comment when she presses play.

Content and relaxed, I stare at the TV screen, refusing to let my eyes wander to her.

***

As dawn is breaking, I wake up instantly.

Christ!

Eva’s still lying on her side of the bed, and I’m pressed up against her luscious ass, yet again, motionless and lost in a savage moment of turbulent attraction that seems to perpetually brew between us.

Her heavy breathing betrays she’s still in a deep sleep, so I slowly lift my arm from around her middle. Rolling onto my back, I scrub my palm down my face, unsettled by my lust for this woman beside me, which is growing instead of decreasing, and I haven’t even fucked her. I’ve never been with a woman this much, without any boundaries, and it’s getting more and more confusing for both of us as the days go by.

Aggravated by my own lack of control, I climb out of bed and rush into the bathroom. Closing the door, I quickly shower and dress, wanting to leave before she wakes up.

Fortunately, when I hike up the staircase dressed in my charcoal suit an hour later, Eva’s still sound asleep as I sneak out of my own apartment.

***

It’s eight-thirty a.m. when I arrive at Club 7, and regrettably, my emotions are thrown even further off balance when I open the door to Adriano’s office and he has company.

Capo John turns his head, seated in the chair opposite Adriano’s desk.

“Carmine,” Adriano greets and waves me to hurry inside as John stands up, dipping his chin, stating, “We have a lead on the escort.”

No! I want more time! My palms are perspiring, and when I attempt to shut the door, it’s being blocked by someone, so I spin around and am met with my underboss, Luca, who enters as well.

“Bon giorno,” he says, and we stand next to John while I’m desperate to know what lead John has.

“Eva Conley has a brother at a children’s institute in the Loop,” Adriano informs me.

How did John discover that? Furthermore, I’m supposed to be looking for Eva. Why did Adriano also tell John to look for her?

“I just stumbled upon it by accident when I talked to the manager, Tez, and he told me that one of the other escorts had mentioned it,” John adds.

Fucking bad timing, Tez. Where was this information when I needed it!

Although, as of now, the Syndicate isn’t in jeopardy as long as Roman doesn’t start a renegotiation. I just need to cover up the chain of events concerning Eva that I’ve set in motion; I’m in too deep. But I can fix this without Eva getting caught in the crossfire again, although I need her to stay quiet too.

“Keep an eye on Roman and I’ll handle the lead,” I instruct John and dismiss him with a flick of my wrist as Luca moves to Adriano and whispers something into his ear.

Meanwhile, the remorse building inside me for omitting things from my Syndicate and my brother gnaws at me. Yet I continue to deceive.

After John exits, Adriano leans back in his chair and settles his dark gaze on me. “Why didn’t you already have this lead?”

“I did talk to Tez, but he didn’t have that piece of information at the time,” I explain, which is true.

Luckily, Luca then says to Adriano, “We have to go.”

Yet Adriano casts me a cynical look. “We’ll talk later. Call me when you’ve gone to the institute, and, Carmine, call me immediately.”

Fuck! My boss is definitely suspecting that I’m slacking. “I will.”

Adriano rises, and they clear out just when my phone beeps, so I fish it out of my pocket to bring it up to my ear. “Janey?”

“Good morning, Carmine. I have everything ready for a Miss Conley – all her papers and a Nordstrom bag.”

“I’m at the club. I’ll come by your office now.”

“Okay,” she comments before hanging up.

Much to my chagrin, the clock is ticking, and my time with the little thief will soon be coming to an end. Regardless, the woman has, without a doubt, gotten under my skin, because I leave work in the afternoon on a Tuesday, feeling like a magnet is pulling me to the Astoria Tower.

***

During the drive home, I’m conflicted with guilt toward my brother and an incontrollable need to help Eva. It aggravates me while I continue to lie and scheme against my own. In the meantime, my desire for her is growing since I haven’t had a good taste because she’s supposed to be off-limits. But my cock has taken over my brain entirely, and the need to quench the fire she induces is getting ready to explode.

When I step inside my apartment, Eva’s lounging on the sofa, playing a game on her phone, but she sits up and tosses it aside when I close the door behind me. She’s wearing the cotton dress that accentuates her curves and stops mid-thigh, baring her toned legs.

As I approach her, she greets me hesitantly, “Hey.”

I don’t reveal that the Syndicate is getting closer to her. I tell her too much already. I simply hand over the bag and she peeks inside, taking out the envelope and flipping it open.

Then her astonished gaze whips to me as she holds up her driver’s license and debit card. “How did you arrange this?”

I sink down onto the couch with the bag between us acting as some sort of barrier. “I have connections.”

She reaches inside the bag once more, bringing out the white nightgown. “Carmine...” she whispers in an appreciative voice. “You’re giving me back my life.”

Raking a hand through my hair, I observe the items while her stare burns into me. “It’s nothing.”

“No, it might just be papers and clothes to you. But, in reality, you’re giving me a start to rebuild my life.” Eva catches my eyes, so I look up at her. “Do you do this for other people? I don’t think so. No one comes here except your family. And”—she shows me the debit card and gown in her hands—“it’s like you take care of me.”

I open my mouth to protest, but she rambles on, “And don’t say it’s because of your guilt. It might’ve been about that at first, but this...it’s sweet.” She sets the items aside and gets on her knees, scooting closer to me, forcing me to participate in the conversation.

Yet I remain quiet, torn on the inside, and it must be evident because she frowns and shifts the focus back to herself. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Isn’t that what they say?” And she raises both brows, anticipating that she’s used an expression in the way it was intended.

I feel my lips twitching, along with a region down south, as her fingertips rest on my cheeks.

“I Googled it,” she confesses in the cutest manner.

I like the way she bites her lip in concentration. Oh, this is bad.

“And you’re making me stronger. Thank you, again,” she continues with her torrent of gratitude.

I marvel at the kaleidoscope of emotions she stirs in me. Vehemence, admiration, skin-scorching lust. No woman has ever made me feel these things. Not all of them at once.

Although I know nothing good can come from any of this, I don’t think she grasps it. She clings to me, probably in a way she wouldn’t if she wasn’t mourning.

Then she admits, whisper-soft, “I just want to feel good again. I want to forget everything for a little while.” In silence, she awaits a response for a few vulnerable moments, and my attention dips to her cleavage where the tips of her hair rest. “Will you touch me? Please...” she asks the question I told her to ask if she wanted me to fuck her.

As the air grows thicker, I remain motionless and her expression saddens before she tries to stand up.

The last thread of my self-control snaps, and I hook one arm around her waist as I slide the bag onto the floor, hauling her to sit astride me. “You’re impossible to shut up.”

Then I grab her face with both hands in desperation, conquering her lips as I pull her harshly against me. I claim what I’ve ached for, taking her mouth in angry passion while our teeth clash. Digging my hands into her arms as she presses into my swelling cock, I move my mouth down her neck, kissing and biting her.

“I’ll take what I want,” I growl. Consequences be damned.

As I sit back, she frantically undoes my tie and unbuttons my shirt, and I catch her ankles, planting her feet on either side of me, and order, “Lift your dress. Show me everything.”

I push my hips up, letting Eva feel my growing bulge as she bunches her dress up right above her waist. I groan when I see she chose to wear red panties, and she smiles coyly as I toy with the edges of them before I nudge my hand inside and explore the soft flesh, making her moan.

“You’re already so slick and ready for me,” I whisper and slide one finger and then another inside as her eyes fall closed, her head going back.

“Carmine...”

“Fuck my fingers,” I order as she bites her lip and begins to move her hips while I pump inside her hot core, feeling her juices coating me.

I want her. I want to make her come all over my tongue.

Without warning, I rip her panties off. Then I spread her knees wide, and when she curves her back, I have a perfect view of her pink pussy with my fingers inside her. Slowly, I slip them out while we both watch the movement.

I unfasten my buckle and pants, taking out my hardening cock. Rubbing the length of it between her legs, I smile when she lets out a hoarse moan, and I smack it against her. Her hips move faster as her mind so clearly churns with arousal.

“Oh!” Her back bows and she wriggles against my rock-hard length, glazing my cock with her wetness.

Wrenching her dress down to expose her breasts, I suck her nipple, eagerly gripping the other breast and pushing them together, biting one nipple, then the other.

As I slant my mouth over hers, she fists my hair and parts her lips, licking at my tongue voraciously. When I pull back for air, I lift Eva up and shove her onto her back on the sofa, her black hair fanning out on the white cushions.

“I want you, Carmine,” she whispers, and I smile at her.

A lazy grin curves her lips as I release her and sit back on my haunches. The flaps of my pants fall open with my erection jutting out, and I prop her legs up to kneel between them.

“Touch my cock,” I tell her and promise in a low tone, “I’m going to give you what you want.” Shaking out of my suit jacket, I fling it aside while I let my dress shirt hang open and don’t bother to remove anything else.

She obeys, her fingers curling around my dick as she begins to pump me. Her breasts spill over her dress which is bunched up to her waist, and my palms meander up her inner thighs, stopping at her wet pussy. Then I plunge two fingers inside her again, crudely shoving her up and down the couch. Eva shudders as my body throbs under the sensual onslaught her fingers evoke while jerking me. But I have other plans, so I remove my fingers and suck them clean, causing her eyes to twinkle as she groans.

“God, I love the taste of you.” Bracing myself on top of her, I spread kisses up her stomach, cleavage, and to her neck, which I bite, marking her.

My swollen cock pushes against her thigh. “And I love the smell of you.” With another wild kiss, I roll us sideways and command, “Suck me while I eat out your pussy, Eva.”

And I guide her to switch positions so that we’re both on our sides, facing each other, my mouth at her core and her lips right at my cock. I raise her leg, gripping her ass with one hand while my fingers are wild and rough as I part her glistening folds. I let out a groan before I slice my tongue over her, surging inside and swallowing the taste of her.

“Ah, Carmine...” she whimpers, her mouth at my dick.

Resting her arm on my hip, she digs her fingers into my ass when I shift forward, and she fervently wraps her lips around my thick length, not even half of it fitting in her mouth.

“Oh, Eva, yeah. God, your mouth...” I roll my hips, brutally pumping into her while I hold her leg up by her thigh as she mashes her pussy against my lashing tongue. It’s dirty and unrestrained, and I suck and lick harder with every swirl and glide of her tongue.

“I’m going to come...Carmine!” she pants with shameless conviction, hips bucking as she writhes and whimpers, her pussy spasming around my tongue while she hangs on to her climax. And then she screams my name, my growls hot against her core, until she goes slack.

I nip the inside of her thigh and reach down, palming the back of her head and sliding my erection past her lips. Faster and faster until I hit the back of her throat, my fingers tangled in the hair at her nape as I guide her. She’s completely at my mercy as I relentlessly plunge into her hot mouth until I feel my cock swell, and then I release a low throaty sound. My orgasm hits me quicker than expected, watching this woman I want, who’s forbidden. Desire roars inside, burning in my veins like a fever. And then I pour into her mouth with a great, heaving groan while tremors of intense, focused pleasure overtake me. I slow my movement while riding out my peak before I slip out.

With my own breath short, I roll to my back, one foot on the floor, and pull my boxers up.

Eva rotates her body and tangles herself around my exposed upper chest, her cheek resting on my heart as I gaze at the top of her head. Unfortunately, my cock still twitches, yet the taste I had was thoroughly satisfying, and now I’m treading into precarious territory.

Before either of us gets a chance to speak, my phone chimes in, so I reach down and take it out of my pocket, sweeping open a message.

Adriano: Gwen’s here. Come to the club to toy with her.

Immediately, I lower my arm, but Eva has seen the message and evaluates me as we sit up and right our clothes. She pulls the top of her dress over her breasts as I button my shirt and tuck it back into my slacks before buckling my belt. She doesn’t say anything; her piercing eyes merely stare at me as I dip down to grab my jacket from the floor.

The Consigliere in me tells me to go to Club 7, inform my boss that Eva’s brother doesn’t reside at the children’s institute anymore, and seduce Gwen to keep her in control. However, the man who’s drawn to Eva Conley aches to continue and thrust inside her wet heat.

Inwardly, a war is raging while I contemplate what to do.