Beauty and the Barracuda (14 page)

It didn’t matter that someone could’ve walked in on them right then and there. It didn’t matter that she’d probably have to buy her sister something
extremely
pretty just to get rid of the guilt she’d feel for letting Sansone go down on her in the middle of her apartment. It didn’t matter that sex could quite possibly scrub already coarse emotions the wrong way. The only thing she found herself concerned with right now was the sensation of Sansone swirling his tongue over her clit in a slow figure eight while sliding three fingers into her canal and curling them upwards.

Then he simply stopped.

Nyssa’s eyes flew wide as he stood and smoothed her underwear back into place before doing the same for her skirt. He kissed her forehead then the corner of her mouth. “Your punishment starts now, sweetheart.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she had every intention of calling him the first name that arrived on the tip of her tongue but the sound of Samara’s bedroom door opening froze them both.

Sweeping her up, he put her on one side of the couch, then scrambled to arrange himself on the other.

Nyssa fixed her expression to something as natural as possible when Luciano came into view.

“You two,” he said, heading for the front door. “Up and out.”

Both their heads jerked in his direction.

“Wait...whaa?” they said in unison.

“Sammie is peacefully sleeping in what I would guess is the first time in weeks. I don’t need the bellowing to recommence,” Luciano continued, swinging open the door. “Because I’ll call your mother.” He pointed to Nyssa, who was pretty sure she looked utterly horrified, then to Sansone. “And I’ll simply stab you in the face multiple times before sending your soul on to your master Beelzebub.” Then he gestured to the hallway. “Out.”

There was a lot of angry muttering before they did as they were told. “I’ll call you later, Nyssa,” Luciano called after her.

Sansone stopped, staring at him expectantly.

“The fuck do you want?” Luciano barked.

“No phone call for your brother, you prick?” Sansone barked back.

“The fuck am I calling you for? Your name Samara? You carrying my perfect, angelic seed? I don’t think so.” He slammed the door in his sibling’s face. A few seconds later he reopened it, and said sibling was still standing there. “You gonna help me look for places on the Upper East Side?”

Sansone took out his phone. “How many rooms?”

“Four. I’m gonna need to hide from my pregnant girlfriend at some point.”

“Oh...she’s your girlfriend now,” his brother said in a drawn-out, singsong tone.

“Kiss my hairy Italian ass and find me a home for my family, man-whore.”

“I feel so much love emanating from the two of you,” Nyssa said dryly.

Sansone looked up from his phone. “Got three places listed. Emails sent. I want a pay raise, dickface.”

“Why don’t you pay raise a pair of huge ba—”

“And that’s where this conversation will be ending,” Nyssa cut in, grabbing Sansone’s arm and tugging him behind her. “You two...Jesus...”

She could hear Luciano laughing as he closed the door.

The center of all her angst pulled up short once again. “
Cara
?”

That purr of his voice made her heart momentarily stop. “Yes?”

“The second—and I mean the
very
second—we reach your hotel room, I want you undressed. Understood?”

Oh, God…
Nyssa simply gave a jerky nod.

“Wonderful,” Sansone murmured, linking their fingers and starting toward the elevator. “Absolutely wonderful.”

***

She was trembling. Wariness radiated off Nyssa in waves as they made the slow stroll from the elevator on her floor toward her suite. Sansone fought to keep from smiling. His
cara
wasn’t afraid—she was anticipatory. He knew it from the way she cast a quick glance at him over her shoulder just before slipping her keycard into the lock. That one look told him everything he needed to know. The moment the door closed behind them, she dropped the bags in her hands and moved to the center of the room, her lip tucked between her teeth.

Sansone put his shoulders to the door and simply arched a brow.

Nyssa swallowed then reached for her blouse.

“Slowly
,”
he said, and her hands stopped their quick pace, nimble fingers undoing the diagonal bronze buttons that started at one shoulder and ended at her waist. With each unfastening, more and more of her butter-soft skin came into view until the blouse hung open, revealing a black demi-cup bra that pushed her breasts up into perfect arcs of flesh. He swallowed, taking in the diamond points just behind the lace. She reached between the mounds to free them and he shook his head, gesturing for the skirt.

Nyssa unzipped the material and allowed it to pool around her feet. Slivers of sunlight peeked through the heavy drapes, highlighting the outline of her curved form and leaving him momentarily breathless. How could she not see it? Waking up without her had been the worst form of torment after having her; after finally being able to curl around her, place his chest against her back and inhale the scent that caused chills to race down his spine. Just to have her near him…

“Come here,” Sansone rasped, watching the way her chest rose and fell quickly as she stared back.

In just a few steps, he had her before him. Reaching out, he jerked her to him, placing a hard kiss to her mouth, only stopping when she pulled back to nip just underneath his chin. “Nyssa…”

She shook her head slowly. “I missed you.” Her warm palms snuck just beneath the hem of his tee and worked their way up his sides, sliding around to his chest. She then bunched the material and pulled it over his head, tossing it behind her. Eyes still on his own, she placed a trail of kisses from his Adam’s apple to his navel. When she hit her knees before him, he thought his cock would explode.

Sansone went to pull her up, fully intending to regain control but she slapped his hands out of the way. “No.”

Fuck…

Nyssa undid his belt, all the while holding his gaze. “I missed you,” she repeated. “And I should show you how much.”

Tugging at the legs of his jeans, she pulled them down. His boxer briefs followed and his cock bounced free, hard and achy, the helmet beaded with pre-come at the tip. Her lips brushed ever so gently against it, her tongue swiping out, and his head fell backwards into the door. His swollen skin felt as though it would split as her mouth enveloped him. Reaching down, Sansone stroked her hair away from her face, bunching it in his fist just at the nape when he hit the back of her throat. She swallowed him in one smooth movement and his thighs jumped. Her hands came up to rest on his hips, her nails digging into his skin.

He groaned, bucking against her involuntarily, while watching her deftly slide him from between her pursed lips just to draw him in again. The sight of her mouth on his length, the feel of her tongue swirling over every vein and ridge made his stomach clench, the muscles bunching. Her lashes flicked downwards and she hummed a little moan that made his lips part.

“Nyssa…”

Sansone’s breath quickened and they locked eyes again. The complete willingness to please him that he found there made him withdraw. She looked disappointed, and that made his dick jump in protest, screaming,
“Why? Why don’t you love me? Why can’t you just treat me right?”

Before she could say a word, he put her back to the door, hooked a finger into the crotch of her panties, and slid them to the side, powering into her. Her spine arched, tits bouncing as he pumped his hips and sent their bodies thumping into the wood. Sansone squatted just a bit and slapped one hand against the frame, the other on her hip as he wrapped an arm about her waist and held her to him. He nibbled at the mouth that had so selflessly pleasured him, then gently bit down right behind her ear, listening to the way she keened his name, her pussy clamping down on his cock.

His jeans fell the rest of the way, his belt buckle hitting the floor with a barely perceptible clank, mixing in with the orchestra that was Nyssa’s cries as she held onto him, her thighs tightening around his torso, the heels of her feet resting just over the rise of his ass.

They weren’t able to speak a word, just incoherent babblings blended with, “I love you”, and “You feel so fucking good.”
He’d been kidding himself thinking he could draw out her torment after having been without this for days.

Nyssa buried her face in his shoulder, and her teeth fastened down there before she leaned backwards and chanted what sounded like, “God help me…” right as the muscles of her core clasped his cock in an almost intolerable hold, wringing his orgasm from him. Sansone stiffened as his
palle
drew up and heaved, sending his head spinning.

When the spasms stopped and he could breathe again, he wobbled toward the bed. “Immoral female. You’re trying to kill me.”

She swallowed. “Why eliminate what gives me so much joy?” Then she clapped her hands as if calling a servant. “I want more!”

He smirked down at her. “Oh,
cara
,
you can have as much as your heart desires...”

She took in the look on his face and tried to make a run for it. Sadly for her, she never even got off the bed.

“We have to get dressed and leave this room eventually,
cara
.”

Nyssa groaned, burying her face in the downy pillow in her hold. “Don’t use that kind of language with me. I won’t tolerate blasphemy.”

The low chuckle just over her shoulder sent a series of chills rolling down her tender skin.

After a weekend of solidarity, too much food, too much wine, and entirely too many orgasms—was there such a thing?—Nyssa really couldn’t give a shit who saw teeth marks on her areolas. Putting on clothes held little appeal, as did interacting with the outside world. Sansone—the pretty bastard—had manipulated every inch of her until they inspired noise complaints and a few “Well done” comments from others in the hotel. Days without him had felt like months, and he’d caught her in the throes of gasping for air, managing to make her swear on her collection of Michael Kors that she wouldn’t dare attempt to do it again.

Being that she spent most of their days in their suite on her tummy because the idea of even grazing her swatted ass on baby-soft sheets made her cringe, Nyssa doubted she’d take off unannounced again anytime soon. When he said he would punish her, he hadn’t been making idle threats. Nyssa had been tied down then fucked until she thought she’d go hoarse just to have him pull out of her, flip her over, and start all over again, but he hadn’t let her come even once. Not until she begged, and God, did she beg.

Sansone had left her to soak after that, just to return with massage oil and candles. Wax play hadn’t been on her list of sexual adventures but the moment his heated palms brushed across her skin, the scent of lavender wafting from that one touch, she’d melted. And once they were done he’d molded every inch of himself as close to her as he could possibly get and rocked her into one of the most intense orgasms she’d ever experienced.

Her erogenous zones were on fire each time she moved, but she still hadn’t been able to deny him this morning, even knowing her muscles would screech their outrage later. Making up for lost time wasn’t just an expression where she and Sansone were concerned.

“You need sunlight and air, baby.” Sansone placed a kiss on her shoulder. “I’ve held you hostage long enough.”

She sucked in a deep breath and rolled toward him. “Another hour of doing nothing earns you twenty full minutes of me doing that thing with my tongue.”

He burst out laughing, his eyes crinkling just at the corners in the most adorable of ways. “I shouldn’t have let you do it the first three times. Now you’ll just use it for your evil sex sorcery.”

Nyssa put her head on his chest and closed her eyes. “Evil sex sorcery that makes you weep.”

“I did not weep…a tear or two fell but there was no weeping.”

“If you say so.”

Sansone trailed his fingers down her spine. “You have the prettiest afterglow in the morning.”

“Your hands go any lower and you’ll see the glow of Jesus himself. My womb has been ambushed and needs recovery time. Kindly take your hand off my bread box and leave it be.”

His frame shook with the force of his laughter. “The words ‘bread box’ have officially obliterated any chance I had of an erection. Thank you.”

“Your hours of pitching flesh tents should’ve taken care of that, my friend.”

“God, does everyone know you’re this strange?”

She shrugged. “Aside from Sammie? No.”

“Ah, Sammie.” Sansone sighed. “We’re going to have a niece and/or nephew soon.”

“And if Luciano’s brooding, steely stare is any indication, we’ll also be in-laws.”

“Those two…having a baby…”

Nyssa lifted her head. “Should we fear for humanity?”

His mouth twisted. “I say we start a prayer circle immediately.”

She nodded. “We shall need one for when the unholy master arrives.”

Lips curling, he pushed her hair away from her face. “Of course they’ll insist the spawn is nothing but good.”

“Which we’ll deny at every turn.”

“Meanwhile picking out God knows how many gifts to appease the child of doom.”

“And yet…I find myself incredibly excited. I love Samara, but she’s never given off the ‘I want to have a family with an unnaturally sized man’ vibe, yah know?”

“Guess she just had to find the right unnaturally sized man.”

“And by God is his unnatural.”

“That same God will be called upon eight months from now when their offspring emerges.”

Nyssa winced. “Don’t give me that image.”

“Makes you panic when you think about our kids?”

She suddenly couldn’t breathe.

“Cara?” Sansone sat up, dragging her with him. “Hey, hey, inhale, there you go…deep breaths…okay…”

Swallowing, Nyssa squeaked, “Our kids?”

His brows drew downwards. “Yes,” he answered slowly. “Our kids.”

“I think we need to talk about the planting of seeds in fertile ground before you get too excited, Mr. Lawn and Garden.”

He tucked in his lips. “Do you not want kids?”

She blinked. And then she hit him.

“Ow! Why the violence?”

“Because that was a really stupid fucking question!”

“We’ve never talked about it, and you just had a panic attack!”

“You caught me off guard!”

“Which means you hit me?”

“Yes!”

Sansone threw up his hands. “I’m in love with a crazy woman. This is what I’m destined to do for the rest of my life. Listen to the screeching of someone who is unhinged.”

“Unhinged?” Nyssa jerked the bed sheet around herself and moved away from him. “I am not unhinged. I’m practical.”

He blinked. “Practical? As in someone who uses linear, concise thought?”

“Are you implying that I don’t?”

“I’m not implying anything,” he answered as he grabbed the duvet and wrapped it around his hips. “I’m outright telling you!”

“Oh, excuse me for trying to make sense of out something that literally does not make sense!”

“Us having children doesn’t make sense to you?”

“No, me not smashing in your big fat head doesn’t make sense to me!”

“I take it back! That glow I said you had? It’s really your aura of insanity becoming so palpable I can actually see it!”

Her eyes narrowed. “Yeah?”

Sansone folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah.”

Nyssa angled toward him and went for the jugular. “You look awful in red.”

He gasped. “Lies! I look fucking amazing in red. It just has to be the right shade or it washes out my olive undertones.”

She shook her head. “No. Awful. Fucking. Awful. Every shade gives you this splotchy appearance. You look sickly.”

“You take that back! Right now!”

“No, it’s true and you know what else?”

“What?”

Stopping, she absorbed the telltale twinkle in his eyes, took in the fact that he looked as though he were fighting laughter and simply replied, “Sometimes I wonder exactly what I’m going to do with you.” His face softened and she added, “Then I wonder what I’d do without you.”

Sansone swallowed. “You’d be broken and bitter, constantly longing for the warm rays of my love day in and day out until you couldn’t take it anymore. That’s when you’d start stalking me and possibly collecting strands of hair to create a clone.”

“You are so mental.”

He closed the distance between the two of them and swept her up into his arms. “This is the thanks I receive for trying to please you? This is the appreciation? Why can’t you just love me? Why am I constantly suffering your abuse? Why do you make me want to do all those filthy, dirty things?”

Nyssa rubbed the bridge of her nose as he carried her back toward the bed. “Sunny…sweetheart…why are you trying to make me crazy?”

“Because I hear screwball sex is the best kind so I figure if I drive you insane…you’ll try that thing that got me pushed out of bed for even suggesting it.”

“We are to never speak of that again. Ever.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” He gave her a soft smile, and she smiled back then the son of a bitch tossed her onto the mattress, laughing as she bounced several times.

Stripping her of the sheet and tugging off the duvet, he threw them both to the floor and ambled off to the bathroom, whistling.

Nyssa pushed up onto her elbows. “What’re you doing?”

“Something romantic. I’m running a bath.”

“Is this your subtle way of calling me dirty?”

Sansone poked his head just out of the doorway and leered. “Do you really want the answer to that?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Is it going to make me want to hit you?”

He seemed suddenly worried about the water level of the tub.

She snickered until the vibration of her phone got her attention. With a groan, she rolled out of bed and walked over to the small desk in the corner of the suite. She grabbed the phone and found her amusement fading.

Alana: Your favorite person in the whole world dropped by the office today, and would you like to know what I did?

Er…no, she didn’t. Instead of saying that, she shot a text message off.

Nyssa: …what?

Alana: One word. Two syllables, Nyssa. Coffee.

She laughed so hard she thought she would choke.

Nyssa: Where would you like to vacation for Christmas? I swear to God I’m sending you on an all-expense-paid trip.

Alana: Beach. Naked men. Make it happen. Oh, and as he was unassumingly drinking from his “special” mug I told him he could come back Monday because I really want to see if Sansone turns him into a new species of human, one with the ability to live without breathing through the mouth. Will you and Sansone be done swallowing one another’s body parts by then?

Nyssa: Annnnnnd this conversation is officially over. Good day, madam.

Alana: If you’re hoarse when you come back, can we pull a Key & Peele with me as your anger interpreter?

Nyssa: I said good day…

“Hey!” Sansone shouted from inside the bathroom. “My naked glory waits for no one, female! Move it!”

With a snort, she replaced her phone and padded through the room until she stopped in the doorway, blinking. “Why do you have a bubble beard?”

Giving her a haughty look, he spread his arms and leaned back into the tub that was large enough to double as a Jacuzzi, complete with jets. “For someone who was thought to be a beard the first four years of our friendship, you sound awfully judgey.”

Would the insanity ever end? Would she ever stop laughing in his face? Probably not. But Nyssa wouldn’t have it any other way. The look in his eyes when she walked toward him, the feeling of his arms enveloping her when she sank down into the steaming water, and the sensation of his lips sliding just over her temple completely overrode the nervous tension in her belly. The moment she told Sansone about Monday, he’d probably flip his shit, but as she’d discovered over the last few days, Nyssa had ways of making him see reason. Even if he denied that they made him weep…