The Claim (13 page)

“I was. I’m just making myself more comfortable.”

This wasn’t going to work if she didn’t stop. “Okay, don’t play about with that.”

He felt the smile against his neck. “Who’s playing?”

“Annie...” His protest died in his throat when her hand slipped inside his pyjama bottoms. No one could even start to blame him for wanting her to do that. Hell, he’d been thinking about her hands, her mouth, her pussy on his cock for years. She grazed her teeth over the skin of his neck as her thumb gently tugged at him in a long, slow stroke from the head to the base of his cock. It pulsed fiercely against her palm. “You know you’re throwing a three-hour reunion session out of the window?”

Anna threw the duvet back and in the blink of an eye had thrown his bottoms across the room. “I don’t need three hours.” Without ceremony she threw the t-shirt from her torso, sending a jolt through him at the sight of her breasts. How had he ever had a hard-on in the absence of that figure? Conscience should have stopped him from letting her take him in hand once more, but his cock quite firmly told him to shut up and stop thinking. It was the brush of her soft hair on his thighs, the rippling pressure of her fingers along the length of him, the ridge of the roof of her mouth over the head of his dick, the scratch of her nails over the storm tattoo that seized him, brain to toe. He desperately tried not to thrust into her mouth, catch the back of her head and make her take him deeper, but she read him. Without stopping the tease of her lips around him, she took his hand and threaded his fingers into her curls. He pushed the curls from her forehead, and she looked up at him, her cheeks hollowed into a pout, his cock slowly slipping from her mouth. The look in her eyes, the promise of more to come almost ripped an orgasm from him, but there was so much more to come, he couldn’t let that happen. Not yet. Later, maybe, when he’d made her more amenable.

Catching her by the arms, he pulled her along the length of his body and swiftly onto her back.

“I was busy,” she protested.

“Shh.” He yanked his boxers from her body and frowned at the marks the elastic had left on her hips. Tracing his tongue in the grooves, he told her not to wear what would make her uncomfortable.

“I’m comfortable now,” she sighed, parting her legs and infusing the air with the intoxicating scent of her arousal. With a growl he knelt between her thighs and anchored them on his shoulders, raising her swollen, drenched pussy to his face. His first kiss to her delicious lips forced her to arch into him. The very taste made his mouth water and he took her fully, almost swallowing her pussy whole. Anna gave a screech that would have hurt if her thighs weren’t pressed so hard on either side of his head. Alternating between nibbling on her outer lips and her clit while she trembled around him, he slipped his tongue inside her pussy, drinking the flood of juice. As soon as he moved his hand to cup one breast in his palm, she began jerking against him, both hands in his hair pressing him hard against her, his name bursting from her. Cream dripped over his chin as her pussy fluttered against his mouth, trying to clench on his tongue.

“Oh Rocky,” she breathed, trying to lift that treasure away from him. He lowered her back to the mattress, lay before her and once again buried his face in her pussy. He was making amends for the time they’d spent apart, for her thinking that any woman’s pussy could even begin to compare to hers, for wasting valuable time when he could have tried convincing her of his sincerity with his tongue. Holding her thighs firmly apart, he carried on feasting, despite having to adjust himself several times, his cock pulsing a fervent reminder of where it wanted to be. His fingers would sometimes damply meet her own at her breasts, and he’d have to push hers out of the way to allow him to savour the feel of her bullet-hard nipples against his flesh, the sweat pooling between her breasts, the burning heat of her lower belly.

Lifting his head, he gazed on his Anna’s body, glowing with heat, vibrating with pleasure. “Come here,” she demanded.

He lifted a brow. “Pardon?”

“Come here, please. Please me.”

Cheeky mare
, he thought with a grin. Levered on his arms, Anna wrapped a leg around his waist and flipped him onto his back. “That works for me.”

“Drawer.” He indicated his left. Anna leaned over and fingered through a selection of condoms.

“Fruit, ribbed, lubed?”

“Get one, any one, now.”

She grinned. “Obviously you weren’t missing me.”

He pulled her hand from the drawer and cupped her face. “Look at me. I missed you every fucking day. You’re on my body, not just in memory, but in print. I promised to chase you and I didn’t. So you weren’t there on the important days of my life, when I looked for you. You weren’t there for the small victories, days when I needed to hear your voice, times when I lacked your sense and sharpness and laughter. It broke me that I couldn’t share things with you. And it was easier to convince myself that you didn’t mean everything to me, but I only hurt me. In that respect it wasn’t obvious to anyone that I missed you. But I did. Every. Fucking. Day. You understand me?”

Hands braced on his chest, Anna leaned down and kissed him until he forgot why the hell they were talking and why they weren’t fucking.

Quickly, Anna leaned up, selected a condom. “Don’t look, it makes me think I’m about to be fucked by a banana.”

He was laughing too hard to pay too much attention to her hands sheathing him in latex. “Oh God, I love you.”

With a hand gripping his cock, she lowered herself onto him. He’d never seen her so beautiful, the ecstasy on her face as she took him inch by inch until she was full. Placing his feet firmly on the mattress, he drove more deeply into the depths of her pussy, her cream trailing to the base of his cock. He used her ample buttocks as leverage, easing her up and down over the length of his yellow-covered dick.

“I can’t,” he protested. “Not with this thing. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

Swiftly, he carefully deposited a giggling Anna on the bed and removed the yellow condom and replaced it with a conventional one.

“Why’d you have them anyway?”

“I enjoy prolonging my pleasure,” he drawled, pulling her underneath him and thrusting into her. “Meet me,” he commanded. Instantly, she lifted her hips, welcoming him, with her body, with her moans. He shuddered at the sensation of her teeth on his shoulder and took her harder, grinding his pelvis into her own, in short sharp circles. Each time he hit an angle, Anna’s pussy clenched at him, and her nails dug into his flesh.

“Did you miss me, Annie?” he demanded.

Her head was thrown back, her lips parted with gasps. “Hmm,” was all she said on a rising cry.

Leaning up slightly, he lightly pinched her clit. “Annie.”

“Yes!” she screamed, her juices flowing over him as her pussy pulled him in tightly. He couldn’t hold back any further. His hips pounded hard and fast until the spasms tightened his balls and his orgasm filled the condom.

“I love you too,” Anna mumbled. “Now get off. I wanna sleep.”

He lightly grazed his teeth over her nipple. “You’ve got twenty minutes.”

Her lashes lifted and he grinned at the look in her eyes. “Half an hour.”

“Nineteen minutes.” Pushing him off and nudging him away with an elbow, she cuddled the pillow and closed her eyes. “Eighteen minutes.”

“You’re only saying that because you need that long to recover.”

Rocco glanced down at his cock. “
Tempesta
, I’m ready to go now.”

Is it Saturday?
Anna thought, lifting her head from the pillow.
No, it’s half ten in the morning on a Thursday. And I’ve got the sex ache.
Oh that had been so good, so fucking good, someone really should take some sort of emotional measurement from her. Blow up the machine. This was how a woman should feel after a night with Rocco Mamione and his magical cock.

Speaking of, where was he? She was alone in the king-size bed and the t-shirt and boxers were nowhere to be found. Scrambling to sit up, Anna searched for something to throw over herself. Before she could do anything useful, Rocco burst into the room.

“Annie’s awake,” he declared gently. “You look shell shocked, you okay?”

Damn, he looks good
, she thought, admiring the fitted shirt and jeans. Suits just worked so much better for him, mocking or not. In casual clothing, particularly white, she could see the outline of his crucifix and the gun tattoos. People should not be staring at her art. “Why did you let me sleep so long?”

“Because you needed it. Don’t worry, I told Charles we both had out-of-office appointments. And Nonna’s called and asked if she can meet you at a restaurant for lunch instead.”

He was being far too jovial and bouncy and happy. She really wanted to go back to sleep. “Which one?”

“Gina’s restaurant in Chelsea.”

He did
not
just mention another woman while she was naked in his bed. “And who is Gina?”

Rocco grinned. “Don’t make that face,
Tempesta
, she’s Nick’s wife. And it’s the only restaurant Nonna ever goes to when she’s feeling too lazy to cook.”

“Oh.” She rubbed her eye, feeling a little silly. Rocco was still watching her. “What?”

“You don’t have to go anywhere until lunch. And it’s only half ten.”

She threw back the duvet and patted the space in front of her. “You’ve got twenty minutes.”

Slowly, he started stripping. “What if I need longer?”

Good point. What was her argument? She couldn’t think properly when he was tugging off those jeans and staring at her that way which meant,
if you’re not wet now, you will be
. “Convince me, Mr. Mamione. I’m open to suggestions.”

“And that’s why you’re a good lawyer.”

Chapter Fourteen

Nonna was waiting for her at the restaurant, examining the menu with her glasses perched on her nose. “You look rested,” Nonna said as soon as Anna sat down.

“I had a good sleep,” Anna said smoothly, trying not to wince as she brought her thighs together and crossed her ankles.

“Hmm, sex will do that for you.”

Anna froze and caught the waiter’s eye before he was even two tables away. “Wine. White. Huge. Please. Now.”

The waiter gave her a nod and turned on his heel. Nonna carried on talking. “I’m very hungry. How about you? I’m sure you need to keep your strength up. My grandson is a Mamione and if he’s anything like his grandfather, I’m surprised you got any sleep at all.”

Sweet Jesus, take the wheel.
“All right, stop, stop it. Yes, I slept with Rocco. Now let’s move on.”

“I want to talk about it,” Nonna protested, catching her with a beady look. “Are you going to break his heart again?”

Anna was quite disgusted. “No.”

“Are you sleeping with him to feel good about yourself, to feel better about your stupid bitch of a friend, or do you want to be his wife?”

If only she’d just stayed in bed with Rocco... “What do I say to that?”

“The truth, young lady.” The waiter placed Anna’s wine down carefully. “Ah good, I’ll have the duck, the salad, some mixed vegetables, a portion of the chips on the side too. Yes, and I don’t want the parsnips. Pathetic root vegetable. Anna!”

The waiter scribbled furiously and then looked to Anna. “I’ll just have the soup.”

“Pick something better! I’m paying.”

“Nonna,” she sighed.

“Soup is not a meal. It’s a starter.”

She didn’t have the energy to carry on a row. “Fine. I’ll have the pigeon. Thank you. And if you see this glass heading toward half full, bring me another one.”

The waiter’s face barely flickered with amusement, but he collected their menus and left them alone. “That sort of day, eh?” Nonna teased.

“Whose fault’s that?”

“Oh don’t be silly. Now, are you using my grandson as a trampoline or what?”

“Just a minute, you know what he—”

“Yes, yes, but now’s the time to piss or get off the pot. He loves you. That is obvious. Do you love him?”

It’d be very easy to lie, but there was no point. He knew anyway, and it was only a matter of a phone call before Nonna knew as well. “Loving him isn’t hard. I can’t trust him.”