I locked onto her gaze. “Photos and a fucking flash drive.” I let the silence stretch before I gave her more, as though she was pulling the words out of me. “He killed a man named Luigi Dominico.”
Her face twisted with confusion. “I don’t understand. So he isn’t Luigi?”
“He is. But he stole the identity of another Luigi. The man he killed.”
She blinked, struggling to piece it together. “So … which one is the enemy?”
I scoffed and straightened, my palms sliding onto her thighs. Her skin was warm, softer than I wanted to admit.
“One of them murdered our mother,” I said. “And I will find out which one did it.”
Her breath caught when I pulled her closer to the edge of the table. Her hands braced against my shoulders. “Then find him and talk to him. He’s your brother, isn’t he? You two can talk.”
My fingers slipped under the shorts. She wore nothing else. Heat and wetness flooded against my touch, a reminder of how easily she unraveled me. Her eyes softened, heavy with the kind of drowsiness that came before surrender.
“One way to make him talk,” I muttered, pushing her back against the desk. She shoved the files aside and picked up the half-melted ice cream can with a naughty laugh. She scooped some onto her finger and slipped it into her mouth. “Is to destroy him first.”
Her shorts came off easily when she lifted her hips. She was already dripping, though she had dared to challenge me minutes ago.
“So what are you going to do?” she asked.
“Fuck you on this table.”
She rolled her eyes. “I meant Dmitri.” She dipped her finger back into the ice cream, licking it slowly and teasingly. The way her lips closed over her finger made my blood heat. If it were my cock, she wouldn’t be smirking.
I took the can from her hand, watching the cream swirl into liquid. My smirk deepened as I tilted it over her. Her gasp broke the silence when the cold cream slid across her inner thigh. She looked at the mess, lips parted in shock.
“Rodion, why—”
I tossed the can across the room as my attention dropped to her thighs. My cock strained painfully against my trousers. I bent low, my tongue sliding through the mess of cream and heat between her thighs. Her hips jerked, but I pinned her down, keeping her where I wanted her. I devoured her, licking, sucking, taking her. Every whimper fueled me further. She tried to grind against my mouth, desperate for more, but I wasn’t giving her control. Not yet.
When she was clean, I dragged my mouth back up, tasting her stomach. My fingers found her clit, pinching hard enough to make her cry out. Her body shuddered, and I licked her trembling skin as though I owned every part of her.
I caught her mouth in a kiss. One hand rubbed her as the other unzipped my trousers. Her scream lost against my tongue as I freed myself and pressed against her soaked heat. She shifted, needy, rubbing herself against me as if begging.
I dragged the head of my cock along her entrance, taunting as I watched her face twist with frustration. She lifted her eyes to mine, and I slammed into her, giving her what she asked for. Her eyes rolled back, her body buckled, but she squeezed her lids shut as if she could hide from it.
Pulling out, I drove inside her again, deeper and harder, shaking her with the force. My hands clamped her thighs,keeping her wide open while I took her as I pleased.
“I’ll be away for a day or two,” I said, each thrust hitting her core.
Her voice trembled. “O-okay.” She looked torn, caught between conversation and surrender, not knowing where to keep her focus as I fucked the words out of her.
She wanted to talk, so I gave her something to hold onto. “You’ll stay here until I return.”
She looked at me, voice trembling between pleasure and surrender. “Rodion … oh God. Okay.” Her head fell back against the table. “You never call when you disappear.”
I pulled out slowly, watching her breath hitch as her eyes clung to mine. “Can I go home while you’re away?”
The audacity of the request, made when she was vulnerable, almost made me fall for it. “I told you already.”
“Then let Carina come over.”
“Done.” I thrust back into her, wrapping a hand around her waist and hauling her up from the table. Her legs locked around me as I carried her to the couch. She straddled me the moment I sat, sinking hard, her rhythm demanding control.
“You’ll call me,” she whispered against my lips, riding me faster than I moved her. She thought she was in charge, and she was enjoying every second.
“Yes.” I tried to claim her mouth, but she pulled back, denying me.