For Angelo (Full-Length Standalone Italian Billionaire Romance) (29 page)

Fuck.

The music in their mind reached a crescendo.
 

He opened his eyes.

Fuck waiting.

He wanted her.
Now.
And he knew just how to make her come.

He turned to the woman closest to him and made an act as if to kiss her.

She was by his side sooner than he expected, crying out, “No!”

He laughed, stepping away from the other woman, and turned to Lane. Her eyes were swimming with tears, and he asked under his breath, “You think just seeing you about to cry will stop me from kissing another woman?”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

“Sadist!”

His hands clasping her waist, he pulled her close so he could lick the tear away. “I love your tears,” he murmured. “It tastes as good as I remembered.” He drew her even closer, whispering to her ear, “You did very well, my Lane.”

Oh.
Her entire body reacted to his words, breasts swelling, nipples jutting out, core aching, and toes curling hard. Unable to stop herself, she put her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him—

He sucked his breath, and the sound made her whimper and press herself closer to him. This time, she felt his big, hard cock throb furiously against her folds and whimpered again.

His hands tightened painfully around her waist. “What,” he bit out, “do you think you’re doing?”

She couldn’t answer, could only start rubbing herself against his cock—

He muttered an expletive over her head, and then he was whirling her around the dance floor. Oh, how swiftly the room spun around her as they glided. She surrendered herself to his hold, her eyes drifting close as she blindly followed his move—

She heard the door shut, and when she opened her eyes, she realized he had taken her to one of the restrooms. Releasing her, he kicked the door shut and locked it then slowly turned around to look at her.

For one moment, they simply stared at each other, the enormity of what this night meant weighing down on them, of how much would and should change—

And then they moved simultaneously, and there was no time or need for them to think.

She threw herself at him just as he came to haul her close, and their mouths fused in a wild, deep kiss, their tongues mating as her arms went around his neck and he wrapped her legs around his waist.
 

Without breaking the kiss, he lowered her on the countertop and once he had her secured, he kissed his way down her body, tearing every scrap of silk in his way.
 

He ripped her bra off and his mouth latched to one nipple.
 

He sucked her so hard she screamed and clutched his shoulders while her legs tightened around his waist. He moved to her other breast and her fingers moved to his head so she could push her nipple deeper into his mouth. “D-don’t stop,” she gasped, and he sucked on her nipple so hard she saw stars.

He moved further down and her panties went the same way as the rest of her underwear. She caught her breath as he pushed her legs wide open—

And then he was eating her pussy, licking, sucking, nibbling, and she screamed and screamed until pleasure began to stir inside her, making her inner muscles quiver.
 

“Oh God, Angelo—”

His teeth closed over her clit, and she came hard, Lane’s eyes rolling back as she cried his name out.

But it was just the start.
 

Even as her orgasm jolted through Lane’s body, she felt him turning her over on her stomach, and then he was slipping inside of her—

Oh my gosh, it felt like he was ripping her into two with his massive cock—

He began ramming his cock into her, so hard and fast that it brought tears to her eyes.
 

And she wanted more.

“A-Angelo!”

He shuddered at the way she cried his name out, loving and hating it because of the way it brought him down. His perfect match, the rockstar had called her, and now he knew, whether he wanted or not—

It was true.

The knowledge made him withdraw his cock all the way out, but when he thrust back, it was in her other hole, and she screamed at the shocking, beautiful pain of it.

“Oh God, Angelo!”

Wrapping his arm around her, he found the entrance of her pussy and thrust his fingers in. He fucked her both ways, and pulling her hair so she would look at him, he took her mouth with his.

Now, her every hole was his.

He pounded her anus with his cock, fucked her vagina with his fingers, and devoured her mouth with his.

He owned her, he fucking owned her, and he branded his claim on her with every thrust.

He waited for her to protest but she didn’t, only crying and shuddering in his arms, and every inner muscle in her body tightening around his.

More,
her body begged him.

More!

More!
 

More!

The knowledge that she wanted him like this tore through Angelo, and he came with a hoarse growl. He shot his cum to her, and releasing her mouth so he could straighten, he held her by the hair and thrust harder and faster to her as he poured all his cum into her—

She screamed as her own body reached an orgasm, but he didn’t stop, his hips pumping nonstop behind her.

“Angelo, Angelo, Angelo.” Over and over she sobbed his name.

He pulled out, turned her on her back, and drove his cock into her pussy.

“Oh my God, Angelo, please—”

He smiled down at her. “No. I won’t stop.”
 

She cried out.

“I’m going to fuck you until morning, and you, my Lane, will want it.”
 

“I’m going to fuck you until I have every hole of your body filled with my cum, and you will want it.”

Aaaaaah.

She lay back and let him take over, knowing that every word was true.

He was going to fuck her until morning, fuck her until every hole was filled with his cum, and she…would…want…it.

Chapter Eighteen

“Thanks for agreeing to watch the concert with me.” Bree gave her new friend a quick hug. Pulling away, she added a bit worriedly, “I just hope you’re okay sitting in the VIP section. I told Dylan it might be better to get us seats at the lower box section, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”

“It’s really okay,” Lane assured the rockstar’s girlfriend. “A-Angelo and I a-agreed that this could be another exercise for me. New coping techniques and a-all that.”

Riiiight.
But Lane was already stammering now, and it was just the two of them. What would happen if they were surrounded by some of the snootier fans of Minuit Rouge?

Only one way to find out
, Bree thought with a mental grimace. Summoning a smile, she asked Lane, “Let’s go?”

At Lane’s nod, Bree led the way to the concert’s backstage area. There was a huge crowd in front of the doors, all of them girls dressed in every manner of clothing and chanting the names of the band’s male members.
 

Bree slowly but steadily made her way through the crowd, and the bouncers quickly threw the doors open the moment they saw her face. “Thanks,” Bree said with a smile. She waved to Lane, murmuring, “She’s with me.”
 

The bouncers nodded but immediately closed ranks as soon as they walked past. When the doors closed, Lane asked, “Do you still feel jealous about them?”

“Every second,” Bree said so feelingly Lane couldn’t help but smile.

 
“I used to be paranoid and insecure about them, too, but now, I’m used to it. The thought that they want Dylan makes me shrivel inside, but I also know Dylan loves me so…” She looked at Lane and hesitated.

Lane saw the curiosity in the other girl’s eyes and guessed, “Y-you’re wondering about the night of the party?”

“They were all over him,” Bree said slowly. “Like
really
over him.” Since thinking about the same thing happening with Dylan was enough to make her want to cry, Bree asked with genuine curiosity, “None of it made you jealous?”

“Oh, it did.
Very much
.” The last words were spoken with as much feeling as Bree had earlier.

Bree blinked. “Then why did you let them—”

“Because,” she admitted helplessly, “It’s also what I like to feel.”

Oh.
Dylan had explained to her about the unique bond between the two, but Bree had never really thought it was possible until now. She had secretly thought it twisted, but now that she saw how Lane’s eyes were filled with love—

It was real, and it was right,
Bree realized. And it meant that love didn’t have to take the same form for everyone.

When they made it to the VIP section, Lane was dismayed to see that she was seated next to a snobbish-looking couple. The girl had diamonds on just about every part of her body while the guy looked like a walking advertisement for Dior. She took a peek behind her but just as quickly turned around to face the stage again. Everyone else behind her looked rich, too, and knowing that there were so many of them made her want to throw up.

But you need to cope with it.
 

It was Angelo’s voice, silky and uncompromising, playing in her head.

Cope with it or you’ll find me coping with another woman.

Lane almost winced. Even the mere memory of his threat was still terrifying.

Taking a deep breath, she whispered to Bree, “Do you know the couple beside me?”

The other girl took a peek. “Oh. Elena Nolan and her boyfriend, Edwin Simpson,” she whispered back. “Why?”

Lane shook her head. “Just asking.”
 

Curious, Bree watched Lane take her phone out and type the woman’s name. A biography showed up, together with the photo, and she saw Lane breathe a sigh of relief. “Just a model,” Bree heard the girl whisper to herself.

Lane typed the man’s name, and Bree heard Lane inhale sharply when it turned out that Edwin Simpson was a CEO. Lane’s fingers moved again, and Bree couldn’t help raising a brow when she read the words. Now, why would Lane want to know Edwin’s net worth?

A figure from Forbes came up.

Lane breathed a sigh of relief again.

This time Bree had to ask. “Why do you want to know how much he’s worth?”

Lane jumped. “B-Bree!”
 

Oops.
“Sorry,” Bree apologized sheepishly.
 

Her heart still racing at the shock Bree gave her, Lane stammered, “It’s a n-new coping technique. We got the idea from an article in Psychology Today.”

“And the technique is…”

“It’s basically a matter of r-relativity. If I’m not a-afraid of Angelo, why should I be afraid of someone w-whose net worth is lower?”

Bree’s eyes widened.

Then she started to laugh, seeing how it made a twisted kind of sense. “And it’s working?” she asked with a grin.

Lane slowly grinned back. “Yes.”

The concert started then, and they both turned their attention to the YouTube sensation tapped to perform as the Minuit Rouge’s front act. As Bree listened to the girl sing a cappella, she mused silently on how much Lane and Angelo had changed.
 

Lane was more outgoing now, more…willing to take social risks, if there was such a thing. And maybe it was because she had known Angelo Valencia far longer, the changes that the Italian tycoon had undergone were even more startlingly obvious. In the past, Bree had found him icily intimidating with the way he seemed incapable of any kind of error. While most women found him sexy, Bree had only been able to see him as a perfectly made robot…

Until Lane.

Only when Lane came into his life did Bree see Angelo show genuine emotion. As for the fact that Angelo’s emotions mostly ranged from mocking amusement to cruel pleasure, and always over something he had tormented his girlfriend with—