Page 16 of The Last Vendetta

“He was right there,” he argued as he slid his hand lower to my pussy. “Your father was right there when it happened.”

I groaned at his slow drag, wishing he’d get his fingers inside me faster. Parting my legs, I gave him easy access. When he teased me, stalling with his fingers over my mound and almost tracing my entrance, I whined a helpless whimper and guided him lower.

I pushed his hand down, and once he curled a finger inside me, I let my eyes close at the tight intrusion.

“Nickolas.”

He stopped moving. “What?” he bit out.

Shit. I hadn’t completed my thought, already so overwhelmed by his touch. His hard tone implied that he didn’t want to hear me speak of another man while he was touching me.

“Nickolas must have killed Luka,” I added, breathing shallower as he sped up and rubbed against my clit.

He hadn’t asked me for my opinion, but if he was here and open enough to tell me his suspicions, then I should be too. This couldn’t be normal. Discussing who might have murdered his brother was a weird topic, but debating while he fingered me and kissed down my chest was even stranger.

No. Being able to speak with him—a Mafia man—about “important” matters was an oddity in and of itself.

“Why?” He slowed his fingers, kissing harder as he angled toward my breasts. “Why do you think that?”

“You care what I think?” I tried to keep the smile out of my tone.

He bit the edge of my bra cup and tugged it down. My breast popped out. That hard tip of my nipple pointed at him, and he didn’t waste a second to lean closer and suck it into his hot mouth.

“Oh!”

He looked up, glaring at me. “Not so loud.”

I replied by reaching for his face and pushing it back to my breast. He resisted, looking up at me. “Why shouldn’t I ask you? You’re always at the same things we are. You live in this world. You’re not an outsider.”

He had no clue how much that vote of confidence meant to me. Living with my controlling mother and indifferent father had me assuming I was literally good for nothing, but Renzo wasn’t that dismissive.

“Nickolas likely killed your brother because of that old score. I don’t remember the details, but they fought over that one whore.”

He stared at my breast, watching it sway as he pushed his hand against me, driving his fingers in so deep. “And she ended up dying when she was with Luka, at one of our properties.”

I moaned as he sucked my nipple into his mouth again. “Maybe… maybe Nickolas wanted that whore for good and was bitter that he’d lost her to Luka.”

“My brother didn’t kill her,” he argued. “I don’t think he did.” Then he tugged the other bra cup down, freeing my other breast. Back and forth, he alternated the agony of teasing with his mouth and tongue. Leaning on one elbow, he slanted over me as he pushed me closer and closer to coming. That buildup of tension couldn’t last for long, and I reached toward him to get there faster.

“I’m sorry,” I got out between quick breaths. “I’m sorry you lost your brother.”

He growled, moving up to kiss my mouth soundly. It seemed he didn’t want to hear pity. Or sympathy. All he focused on was this intoxicating intimacy we had no business trying to have.

“I wish I could lose it. With you. I want to fuck you hard, Giulia,” he growled against my mouth. His dark-blue gaze locked with mine, and I couldn’t look away as he pumped and stretched his fingers faster. “I don’t want to think about Luka fucking dying.” He kissed me harder. “Or that I have to step up to all this bullshit.”

I gasped at his thumb circling my clit. “Please.”

“I don’t want to think about any of these problems. All I want is this,” he whispered. “Proving that I can pleasure you and make you come so hard—” He slammed his lips over mine as I did.

I came. With glorious, freeing waves of relief, I lost the fight with that tension. It snapped. I fell apart, splintering under the euphoria of an intense orgasm that I was glad he’d had the foresight to cover my mouth for. He swallowed my loud moans and screams. His lips sealed the sounds I would’ve unconsciously emitted. If he hadn’t muffled me, the guards running through the hallways would’ve heard and knocked on the door. A lock was never an option here, and Renzo would’ve been found.

As I caught my breath, staring up at him, he glowered at the closed door.

He might have come here to interrogate my father, but he’d ended up finishing what we’d started.

And he was overstaying his stay.

“Giulia.” Francis, one of the lead guards, knocked on my door. “Giulia.

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