Stolen Touches: Chapter 25

Milene

Six weeks later
A door clicks open and then bangs closed.
“Milene!”
I let go of the curtain I was in the process of hanging and turn to see Salvatore marching across the living room toward me.
“Standing on a coffee table? Really?” He grabs me around the waist and lowers me onto the floor. “You could have broken your neck! That thing is two hundred years old. It could have collapsed underneath you.”
I roll my eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m serious. I’m going to go completely gray in a year because of you.”
“Oh, don’t you dare blame me for your gray hairs.” I press my hands to his hair, combing my fingers through it, and savoring the moment. “You came to me like this. Very dashing, I must admit.
“You know very well you’re responsible for half the grays.” He squeezes me around the waist and nods toward the half-hung curtain. “New ones again?”
I cringe. “Yup. I hoped you wouldn’t notice.”
“I hate those cats.”
“I saw you scratching Kurt behind his ear this morning.” I rise up on my toes and kiss him. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. If you find a way to convince me to keep my mouth shut, that is.”
“All right.” He scoops me up and carries me to the bedroom, where he throws me on the bed and sits down to remove his prosthesis.
“You know, I was thinking,” I say as I place my chin on his shoulder and wrap my arms around him from behind, unbuttoning his shirt. “How would you feel about getting a dog?”
Salvatore’s body goes so utterly still that I pause in my task and arch my neck to find him staring at the wall.
“If you bring another animal in here, I’ll kill someone, Milene.”
“Please?” I take his chin between my fingers and turn his head toward mine. “It can be some small breed and—Why are you keeping your eyes closed?”
“No reason.”
“Salvatore Ajello, open your eyes. Right now.”
He sighs. Opens his eyes.
“Pretty please?” I ask and smile widely.
His gaze travels to my mouth, then he reaches with his hand to trace the line of my lips with the tip of his finger.
“I want a psychological evaluation from a licensed animal psychologist, on paper, before it sets its paw in here.”
I squeal in delight and kiss the tip of his finger.
“You’re doing it on purpose,” he says, without taking his eyes off my lips.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You know very well what your smile does to me, and you’re using it shamelessly.” His finger stills at the middle of my bottom lip. “I wonder if you are aware of what a weapon you are wielding.”
“It’s just a smile. Not a weapon.”
“And a gun is just a piece of metal. It can still take a life in a second, if used properly.” He takes my chin between his fingers and leans in, pressing his lips to the corner of my mouth. “You should be very careful with that smile, vita mia. People may end up dead because of it.”
“Smiles don’t kill, Salvatore.”
“Yours does. Try giving one of the smiles that belong to me to someone else and watch the river of blood ensue.”
“Such a poet, my husband.” I smile against his lips. “Maybe I should stop smiling, then. I don’t want to risk killing someone by accident.”
The hand holding my chin tightens. “You will never stop smiling, Milene,” he says. “If anything, or anyone, ever makes your smile falter, even a fraction, I’ll destroy them.”
“So vicious.” I smirk and drop down onto the bed, pulling him with me. “Would you mind destroying my pussy instead?”
The corners of Salvatore’s lips curl upward. It’s not exactly a smile, but it’s close. His hands travel down my body pulling down my shorts and panties.
“I would like that very much.”
The moment our clothes are off, he lies on top of me, and buries himself inside me. I gasp from the sudden intrusion but recover and wind my legs around his waist, opening myself even more. Salvatore doesn’t move but watches my face as my pussy pulsates with need. I lift my pelvis slightly, wriggling my hips, trying to coax him to move, but he remains motionless, with his huge cock lodged inside me, stretching me in ecstasy.
His hand slides between our bodies, down my chest, then along my stomach until he reaches my pussy. A shudder passes through me when he moves his finger between my folds and presses it against my touch-hungry clit. I pass my fingers through his thick hair and bite at the side of his chin. The pressure between my legs builds as he keeps teasing me with his finger, and I want to scream from the need to have him move inside me. Still, the devil stays stone-still.
“Salvatore!” I snap, then whimper when he pinches my clit.
“Yes, Milene?” He bites my lip.
“Stop torturing me.”
“All right.” He removes his hand, and I scream in frustration.
“You are a dead man,” I say through my teeth.
“Make up your mind, cara.” He bends his head to lick my neck, then slides his cock inside me. “Is this what you want?”
I squeeze my legs around his waist and tighten my hold on the hair at the back of his neck, then tilt my head to the side and bury my teeth into his biceps. “Yes.”
I feel him swell inside me. Threading his fingers in my hair, he slides out only to slam back inside with such force he pushes me all the way up the bed, and my head almost hits the headboard. It probably would have, if he hadn’t had a protective hand ready in place.
“Always planning in advance,” I breathe, then moan when he slams into me again.
“Of course.” Another thrust. “Did you think I would ever let you get hurt?”
I open my mouth to say no, but his next forward motion forces his cock so deep inside I choke on my own breath. My walls spasm, and I move my hand to place it at his throat, using a little pressure. Fingers in my hair curl into a fist. Salvatore’s hand moves down my thigh, pulls my leg up and to the side, and he thrusts deeper into me. His lips trail kisses along my jaw toward my mouth until they finally reach mine. I take his lower lip between my teeth and bite. The pounding intensifies. I put a bit more pressure into my bite until I taste the metallic tang of blood. Salvatore goes into a frenzy.
The bed screeches under me, headboard banging against the wall in time with his pounding. It’s like we’re in the middle of a damn earthquake, and I’m being ruthlessly—bang—beautifully—bang—destroyed.
I scream as I come, white stars exploding behind my eyelids as Salvatore keeps on driving into me. His enormous cock assaults my pussy until he finds his own release, and the heat of him pours inside me. He thrusts one last time. The sound of breaking wood fills the room.
* * *
I lift my head from Salvatore’s chest and trace the line of his eyebrow with my pinkie, then let it travel down and along his chin. “I can’t believe you broke the fucking bed.”
“It was old,” he says and turns his head to the side to plant a kiss against the tips of my fingers.
There’s a long horizontal crack along the entire length of the headboard. With the decorative curlicues along its sides, it certainly does appear ancient. “How old, exactly?”
“A hundred years, or something like that.”
I gape at him. “You destroyed a fucking antique. Barbarian.”
“You curse too much, Milene.”
“No shit?” I laugh. “We’re getting a new bed from Target.”
“We are not buying a bed at Target.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Snobbish much?”
“I am,” he says and takes my chin between his fingers. “But you love me anyway.”
It’s a statement. Delivered in his even tone, the one he uses when ordering people around. However, there is a question in those light brown eyes that watch me so intently.
“But I love you anyway, Tore.” I smile.
His gaze moves to my lips and stays there. “I love you, too.”
My breath catches. His eyes move back to mine as his other hand comes to stroke my ear. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I know it’s not easy. Being loved by me.”
I bite my bottom lip and take a deep breath. “You’re wrong.” I know he loves me, but it’s different when he says it. That he’s reached the point where he can utter those three little words means more than the sentiment itself. “Being loved by you, is the best fucking feeling in the world.”
His lips press against mine. “Are you sore?” he whispers.
“Oh, you are not getting your barbarian cock anywhere near my pussy within the next twenty-four hours, at least, Salvatore.”
“What about my mouth?”
I smirk and kiss him again. “That might be a possibility.
He rolls us until he’s on top of me again, and my eyes follow him as he moves down my body, trailing light, airy kisses along the way. When he reaches my pussy, he brushes it with the tip of his finger, then replaces that with his lips through a kiss.
Salvatore’s phone rings on the nightstand. I grab the bedsheet with my hands and moan as he sucks on my clit and slides a finger inside me. The phone keeps on ringing.
“Tore.”
“What?” he mumbles into my pussy, then resumes the pressure of his lips and tongue, his five-o’clock shadow scratching against me and turning me on even more.
“Do you want to take that? It might be important if they’re calling at eleven at night.”
“Look at the caller,” he says and squeezes my clit lightly between his lips, making me shudder.
I reach over and feel around the nightstand for the phone, grab it, and look at the screen.
“It’s Arturo.”
“Take the call and put him on speakerphone.”
I lift my head from the pillow and narrow my eyes at him, then bury my fingers into his hair and tug on it until he returns my stare. “You are not taking business calls with your face buried between my legs, Salvatore.”
“Put him on speakerphone, Milene.” He slides another finger inside me as he resumes licking my pussy.
“Unbelievable,” I mumble and hit the speakerphone button to take the call.
“Boss,” Arturo’s voice fills the room. “We have a problem.”
“Be quick,” Salvatore says between the motions of his tongue.
“Rocco killed another one of his men assigned as his wife’s bodyguard. He said the guy was flirting with her.”
“He said the same for the previous one.” Another lick. “And the one before.”
“Yeah. I don’t know what to do.”
Placing his hand on my thigh, Salvatore opens my legs wider and blows a hot breath against my wetness. I stifle a moan as my body shakes.
“Tell Alessandro I want him in my office tomorrow at nine.” Salvatore barks, removing his fingers from inside me, and moving his body upward so he can enter me with his cock. I grab his firm ass with both hands as he pushes himself in, enjoying every inch of him, as I always do.
“What about Rocco?” Arturo’s voice continues from the phone. “I can try reasoning with him, but maybe it would be for the best if—”
I groan, grab the phone, and launch it toward the other side of the room where it shatters against the wall.
Salvatore stops in midthrust. “I liked that phone.”
“No more multitasking,” I breathe, then push my tongue into his waiting mouth.

Salvatore

I watch Alessandro as he enters my office and comes to stand on the other side of my desk, his hands clasped behind his back.
“Are you gay?” I ask.
He blinks at me. I think this is the first time I’ve seen Alessandro Zanetti look confused.
“No.”
I lean back in my chair. “You’re being transferred to one of my capos. You’ll work as a bodyguard to his wife. While you’re there, if anyone asks, you are gay.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s pathologically jealous, and he’s already killed the previous three men assigned to that position. He thinks you’re gay anyway, so I hope it’ll make things easier.”
“All right.” He nods. “Which capo?”
The phone on my desk vibrates.
“Rocco Pisano,” I say and read Nino’s name on the screen. “You can go. Arturo will give you the details.”
“Yes, Boss.”
As Alessandro turns to leave, I catch a glimpse of the expression on his face. He’s smiling.
“Yes,” I say into the phone.
“Boss. Arturo’s sister is missing.” Nino’s grave voice says from the other end.
“Which one?”
“Asya. She and Sienna snuck out and went to a bar last night. Sienna returned home around midnight. Asya never came back.”
“Phone?”
“Found in the bushes some distance from the bar, along with her purse,” he says, “I’m here with Arturo. There is no sign of his sister, but . . .”
“But?”
“One of the guys found blood in the snow, Boss. Her glasses were next to it.
Shit. “Send me the address. I’m coming.”
I grab my car keys off the desk and leave the office. As I am walking toward the elevator, I pass by Alessandro who’s talking on his phone with someone. His tone is low, but I still manage to catch one sentence.
“Felix,” Alessandro says into the phone, “It’s Az. I need you to do something for me.”

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