Page 31 of Salvatore

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, lifting my hand and sweeping a kiss over my knuckles.

I’m not sure who moves first. Maybe I do, succumbing to the desire to feel closer to him and surrender to the privacy behind his tinted windows. His seatbelt buckle smacks against the arm rest when he hits the release seconds before mine and moments before his arms encircle my waist, hauling me to him.

Like the night before, his lips stamp against mine. I don’t hesitate to open my mouth, immediately inviting his tongue to explore and tease. With each pass of his hand along my back our kiss deepens, causing me to involuntarily moan. Sal leaves my mouth, trailing his teeth down the curve of my neck, his gentle bites causing my neck to arch and my eyelids to flutter.

I don’t expect his aggression, but that’s exactly what I receive. My breath increases as he smooths his palm across my breasts, popping open the buttons of my dress faster than I can process what’s happening.

As his hand kneads and massages, my mind insists that I should stop him and tell him he’s moving faster than I’m used to. But when he yanks my bra up and tugs at my nipple, all I can do is gasp.

Noman’s touch has ever felt so sweet.

I part my lips to speak, but my words fail to form. My focus is solely on him and his hard body pressing into mine. The scent of his cologne, and the way his mouth and hands roam, cause lust to scorch a path through my veins. I grunt, falling back against the window when his head dips down and he starts to suck.

My shoulder blades smack the rim of the door. But it’s when he shoves his hand beneath my skirt, and his fingers circle over the crotch of my panties that my moans dissolve into whimpers.

“Shit,” he groans, my heat building along his hands.

“Salvatore,” I stammer. I need to say something, but I’m so turned on I don’t want him to stop.

With motions of a skilled lover, his circles increase. I’m no longer breathing, I’m panting, my shoulders trembling as an unfamiliar ache overtakes me. It hurts a little, but the pleasure it stirs is so worth the bite, ensnaring me with delicious lust.

My orgasm (that’s what thisis!) builds, crashing hard enough to make me jolt. Before I can recover, he slips in a finger, followed by one more. My head lolls back. I’m not sure what to do, but my body does, responding and surrendering to his strokes.

My hips swivel against his touch, the turns as forceful as my cries.

He lifts his head, his irises clouded with need. “You’re so wet, so tight,” he whispers, delving deeper, his palm smacking against my folds. “How long has it been?”

His words are slow, lascivious murmurs against my ear, sending me into a dark sensual world I’ve never experienced. I can’t think, my head spinning with the start of another orgasm. I manage to bite out the truth. “I haven’t . . . I’m a virgin.”

He freezes, grinding everything I’m feeling to a startling halt. Abruptly he pulls away, the warmth he’d given me withdrawing in one painful strike.

I wish I was exaggerating and that this isn’t really his response. Yet it is. What’s worse is he doesn’t just lift off me, he slumps into the driver’s seat, putting as much space as he can between us.

My breath releases in ragged spurts, mimicking the rise and fall of his chest. But while I’m looking directly at him, he keeps his focus ahead.

His hands grip the steering wheel tight. Only inches separate us, but never have I felt so alone, a sudden chill claiming my soul like a winter storm and isolating me within its shadows.

My body shudders as I struggle to sit back in my seat, my legs rubbery and useless. With trembling hands, I pull down my skirt and button the front of my dress. My buttons are off-center. I don’t care. I’m too distracted by the dwindling bulge in Sal’s pants and stunned stupid by his reaction.

He isn’t speaking. He won’t even look at me.

I wait for our breath to slow, trying to give him time to say something. When it’s clear that he won’t, I pass a hand through my disheveled hair and work up my courage. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t answer.

I lick my lips and try again, hating how hard my voice is trembling. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

The expression he pegs me with as he slowly turns is laced with what I can only interpret as betrayal. “I don’t fuck virgins,” he grinds out.

My breath lodges in my throat, his tone and words like stabs to my already deflated confidence. Humiliation fills me, stinging my eyes with tears, until anger replaces my shame with brutal vengeance.

“I wasn’t asking you to,” I fire back. This time, my voice doesn’t shake and it’s his turn to stare back stunned.

Everything in his deepening scowl tells me he’s ready to talk. I don’t stick around to hear what he has to say. I snag my purse from the floor and fling the passenger door open.

“Aedry?wait,” he says, reaching for me.

I smack his hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

I lurch out of his SUV, hurling the door behind me.

“Son of bitch?Aedry! God damn it, wait!”

I don’t wait, moving fast when I hear the driver’s side door swing open. His footsteps echo a mere breadth away as I unlock the main door to my building and slip inside, slamming the reinforced door hard in his face.

Despite the layers of metal, Salvatore’s deep voice booms through it, calling my name. I don’t care. Not about him, or us.

I only care about the tears he causes and how fast they’re dripping from my eyes.

---