Defensive Heart: The Donnolleys, Book 2 (22 page)

One night they’d discussed her at length while lying in bed. Sonja had bristled more than a few times when Jimmy gave his opinion on how he thought Sonja should try and view the situation. She wasn’t too willing to listen to him. Even tossed out to him that he wasn’t a parent, therefore he didn’t or couldn’t understand. She was both right and wrong. He had a few nieces and nephews, and he had his own experience to draw from too.

He’d been fortunate because his parents hadn’t tried to change him. They let him be whatever he wanted to be and always encouraged him to do what made him happy. Because of their unconditional love and support, he’d pursued all types of art with a vengeance in school. After college, they encouraged him to move to Manhattan and pursue his dream.

Jimmy had blown off his degree in his final year without even considering how much money his parents paid for his education, and yet they’d supported him anyway. If he were in their shoes, he might not have been so accepting or supportive, but for certain he’d try. He was damn sure Sonja would never tolerate something like that. Finishing up the last pipe, he gathered them together and ushered her to the worktable.

“Do we get to weld now?”

“Yup. We’ll do the fitting pieces first. Grab your mask. You watch for the first couple, then I’ll let you try, cool?”

“So cool!”

Casey would definitely be expected to go to college. And she’d be expected to graduate with her bachelor’s degree, probably with honors, then promptly earn a master’s degree immediately after. In his opinion, it was way too much pressure for a kid. But what did he know, right? Jimmy shook his head and put his welder’s mask on the top of his head. Flipping the on switch for the welder, he glanced at Casey. “Ready?”

She nodded, pulling her mask over her face. He lowered his mask and welded the first fitting for the pipes to the large gear. Casey squealed and he could practically feel her limbs vibrating with excitement.

Yeah, God willing, this kid was going to be fine.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Sonja pulled the garlic bread from the oven and placed it in the waiting basket. Casey was out for the night, staying at a friend’s house, and James would be there any minute. After their little phone-sex session earlier in the day, she’d been antsy and walking on edge. The orgasm had only served to heighten the almost constant need for him.

The doorbell rang, and she pulled off her apron and headed down the hall. Taking a look through the peephole, she smiled and opened the door. “Hi.”

“Hi.” James crossed the threshold, took her in his arms and kissed her. Pulling away, he brushed his nose over hers.

She let out a sigh and ran her hands up his arms. “Are you hungry?”

Bending his head, he ran his lips over her neck. “Mmhmm.”

Sonja let out a giggle. “I meant for food!”

He straightened and gazed at her. “Oh, food? Yeah, I could eat.”

“Good. Because I cooked.” Taking his hand, she led him toward the formal dining room.

“It does smell damn good in here. Not as good as you, but a close second for sure.”

The lights were dimmed in the dining room. Guiding him to the large cherrywood table set for two, with candles burning in the center, she motioned to the chair she wanted him to sit in. “Have a seat. Dinner will be right out.”

“Wow! Nice setup. Can I help?”

“You can open the Chianti. Otherwise sit right there, James-the-artist, and I shall do all the work.”

He grabbed the bottle and corkscrew sitting beside it. “Got it.”

She grinned and stepped backward through the butler’s pantry door. The rest of the meal was on the table, so she grabbed the serving bowl full of spaghetti and made her way back out to him. “La cena è servita.”
Dinner is served.
She smiled and placed the pasta on the table. “Un momento, ho bisogno di ottenere il pane.”
One moment, I need to get the bread.

James snagged her wrist before she stepped away. “I don’t know what you just said, and I don’t even think I care, but holy fuck, that was hot and if you keep talking like that I’m going to bang you on this table right now.”

Sonja bent forward, stroking her fingers through his hair. “Promesse, promesse. Si può avere me come vuoi me, James.”
Promises, promises. You can have me how you want me, James.

Pulling her on to his lap, he smoothed a hand over the curve of her hip and onto her backside. “That’s beyond sexy, mo chroí
.
No joke.”

“I said, dinner is served.” She traced his lips with her fingertip. “Tell me what mo chroí
means, and I’ll tell you what else I said.”

James smiled and then bit the tip of her finger before sucking it between his lips. Fire spread through her veins. Maybe letting him fuck her on the table wasn’t such a bad idea. She could always reheat the pasta. Tugging her finger from between his delectable lips, she pressed her mouth to his and snaked her tongue inside. When she pulled away they were both breathless, and James had one hand up her skirt tracing little circles on her inner thigh.

He cleared his throat. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

Sonja stood and moved to the door. Before passing through it, she looked over her shoulder. “Fine. Don’t expect me to tell you either.” She walked through the door, leaving him alone at the table. Grabbing the breadbasket, she returned to the dining room, set it on the table and took the seat to his left.

“Oookay.” He linked his hands together over his stomach.

Ignoring him, she reached for the bowl of pasta and scooped a large helping onto his plate. Then added extra sauce and two meatballs. He poured them each a glass of wine. She offered him a piece of garlic bread from the basket and he took a slice. Then, she served herself. All was done in silence.

Tension filled the room, almost as though they were having a silent argument. Maybe they were.
Hmm.
She intended only to tease him a little by refusing to translate the statements she’d made in Italian unless he told her what mo chroí meant. In truth, the mystery surrounding the endearment he used consistently with her made it feel all the more special. Sort of… Sonja went to run her hand up the back of her hair, forgetting it wasn’t pulled up.
Dammit.

“What shall we drink to?”

Sonja’s head snapped up to find James had raised his glass. She picked hers up and smiled. “How about a toast to mystery?”

“Mystery, huh?” He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Yes, the mystery behind our words.”

“I see.” He tapped her glass before raising his to his lips.

Sonja blew out a breath and watched his mouth close around the edge, then his throat bob as he swallowed. Taking a sip of her wine, she swallowed past the lump in her throat. James Donnelly had dug himself so deep beneath her skin she had no hope of extricating him. Why oh why did this man want her, and why in God’s name did she want him back?

The answer to those two questions had continued to elude her; no matter how much time she spent with him or how many times they had sex. She was beginning to think she’d never figure it out.

“Stop it.” He took a mouthful of pasta.

“Stop what?”

He chewed and then wiped his mouth with the napkin. “Just…stop it.” He covered her hand with his.

“How’s your pasta?”

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “It’s the best spaghetti I’ve ever had.”

“Your mother’s a chef, so I doubt that. But thank you.”

“Yes, this is true, she is a chef, but this is still awesome. And you should accept a compliment.” He took another bite.

“I said thank you.” She followed his lead and ate some from her plate. Even she had to admit it was good. The sauce had come out almost perfect.

“Where’s Casey?”

“She’s spending the night with a friend. How’d she do today at the studio?”

He wiped his mouth and took another sip of wine. “She did awesome. I let her bend some pipes and weld.”

“Weld? As in welding, with a torch?”

“No, not really a torch, but yes, welding. Is that a problem?”

“Well, I guess not. I just…” Sonja picked up her wine. “I assume you’re using all the necessary safety equipment.”

“Of course. Do you really think I’d let her get hurt?”

“No. But accidents happen.”

He tossed his napkin on the table. “Why do I feel like we’re about to have a fight?”

“Because maybe we are.” She took a long gulp of wine.

“Ah, I see. Fucking foreplay, huh?”

Sonja almost choked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Where’s the maid?”

“What?”

James stood. “I said, where’s the maid?”

“I gave her the night off…” Sonja looked up at him. “James, what are you doing?”

“Giving you what you need.”

“What I need?”

“Yup.” Bending forward, he turned her chair to face him and knelt before her.

“Oh, dear.”

James rested his hands on the top of her legs. “Are you wearing panties?”

Her breath hitched in her throat, and she pushed her hair off her shoulder. “No.”

“Good.” He tugged her toward the edge of the seat, then scooted her skirt up. “Part your pretty thighs for me.”

Sonja slid her skirt a little higher and spread her thighs wide. She knew she was already wet, and had been since earlier in the day—even more so since he’d arrived.

“Look at your wet pussy. My God, Sonja. Sweet heaven is right there waiting for me.” He gripped her thighs, pressing his thumbs into the tender inner flesh of her legs. “Tell me what you want.”

Bolts of lightning rocketed through Sonja, bounced off her insides and made her skin tingle. “Did you want dessert?”

“Only if it’s the sweet honey dripping from your cunt.”

“Take a taste.”

His eyes widened, satisfaction flashing in them before he bent his head and licked through her slit. Sonja’s entire body jerked at the feel of his tongue. Her head fell back against the chair and she raised one leg, resting it on his shoulder. When he latched on to her clit, she gripped his hair with both hands and pulled him closer.

James growled and sucked harder. Sonja’s body tightened and lust pooled in her stomach. He brought her to the edge of climax—and the point of madness—only to change his pace, tormenting her with slow, lazy licks through her slit. She wiggled and rolled her hips, gripping the strands of his hair, wanting more…

Taking hold of her behind her knees, James shifted her farther down the seat and raised her legs in the air, baring her completely to him. “Oh my God, James!”

With an iron grip on the back of her thighs, he kept them pinned against her chest and his gaze locked on hers. Snaking his tongue out, he flicked it over her clit. She was mesmerized by him. By the look in his eyes. By the feel of his teasing tongue. By everything he
had
done, and
was
doing to her.

“I was going to give you control tonight.” He licked through her slit. “But I think, no, not tonight. Tonight, it’s my turn.”

Her response, poised on the tip of her tongue, was stopped short when he nipped her clit and then smoothed his tongue over it. Sonja arched on the seat, barely able to move due to his unyielding hold, but shifted enough to press against his mouth.

“Ask me to let you come.”

She drew in a deep breath when he returned to licking through her slit, then penetrated her core with his tongue. “James…”

“Whose cunt is this, Sonja? Hmm?” He licked again. “Tell me.”

His words pierced the lust-induced haze in her mind. Even caught in the maelstrom of an anticipated climax, one she might very well not recover from, she knew the answer. “Yours. It’s—oh fuck…it’s yours.”

“You want to come, mo chroí?”

Sonja rolled her hips. “Yes! Please, yes!”

With an abrupt shift, James moved from between her legs and stood. Shoving the dinner plates aside, he picked her up and placed her on the table. He moved between her thighs. “I think I need to feel your tight cunt ripple over my cock when I let you come. Unbutton your blouse. I want to see your fine tits when I fuck you.”

Her hands shook and Sonja fumbled with the buttons. James opened his pants, freeing his engorged cock. Finally getting the last buttons opened, she removed her shirt and bra. “I want to suck you.”

“Oh yeah?” He palmed himself and stroked from base to tip. A bead of arousal oozed from the tip and dripped down the head. He swiped it up with his thumb and brought it to her lips. “Lick it clean.”

She moaned and sucked, swallowing his arousal. Pulling his thumb from her mouth, he ran his palm down her jaw to her throat. He gave her neck a light squeeze before continuing to her chest. With the flat of his palm, he pressed her to lie back on the tabletop.

Fire blazed over Sonja’s skin when he bent over her and took one tight nipple between his teeth. With his length pressed against her core, she tilted her pelvis back and his shaft slid across her clit. She moaned, aching for him to be inside her.

James growled against her breast and twisted her other nipple between his fingers. It stung, and Sonja cried out and grabbed hold of his hair, pulling the strands hard. But he didn’t move away, instead he bit her nipple harder, then sucked it into his mouth while he pinched the other, and continued stroking his length back and forth through her folds.

Sonja arched against him, giving over to the insane pleasure the sting of pain brought her. “James, please don’t stop. It stings, my God, but don’t stop!” She raised her legs and spread them wider. Reaching between them, she took his cock in hand. She positioned him at her entrance and waited.

Releasing her nipple, he dragged his tongue over the tip. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

He grinned, then tugged and twisted the other nipple. “Tell me what you want.”

His piercing hazel eyes held her captive and she was terrified she’d drown in them. Sonja swallowed. “I want you to fuck me.”

James gave her nipple one last lick before he straightened. Running his palms over her inner thighs, he looked down between them. “Baby, your pink pussy’s sucking the tip of my cock.” He shifted forward, penetrating a little deeper. “Fuck, yes. So hot how you draw me right in.”

Sonja’s skin prickled with goose bumps. “James.” His name came out on a harsh breath, sounding more like a plea than a command. She didn’t care; she needed him inside her. Now. Moving both hands between them she spread her labia. “I ache for you.”

James gripped her chin in his hand. “I ache for you too, mo chroí.” He kissed her and slid his length deep with one thrust.

Sonja gasped against his lips and then sucked his tongue into her mouth. James glided out, and back in again. Yes! This was what she needed. This was what she had to have.

Her fix.

Her addiction.

The drug she couldn’t live without.

He continued to kiss her while he fucked her. Keeping his pelvis tight against her core, James thrust his hips and ground against her clit. Sonja drowned in him—her fear and her salvation—and a million sensations assaulted her body from the inside out. His tongue in her mouth quenched her thirst. His cock buried deep in her core fed her craving.

Her orgasm rose, fast and hard like a rocket. She exploded, soaring higher than he’d ever taken her. All Sonja could do was wrap her arms and legs around him and hold on for fear she might shatter into a million pieces.

James broke the kiss, and she dragged in a breath. Sliding his hands down her body and then under her bottom, he raised her hips off the table and slid his length out before slamming deep again.

“Oh God!”

“Mine!” He thrust again, bouncing her beneath him on the table. “Say it.”

The room spun and her channel spasmed. “Yours!”

He pressed his forehead against hers, and bored his gaze into her eyes with an intensity she’d never seen from him before. Her breath caught in her throat and with one final thrust, James climaxed.

His shaft pulsed and spurted within her. She closed her eyes, unable to hold his gaze, squeezing him tighter against her. With her eyes shut tight, realization, and a little bit of fear, obliterated the haze in her mind and struck deep in her gut.