Page 82 of Sin & Sapphire

I stripped and joined him in the shower. Hot water poured over us, and I reached around him for his shampoo. Angelo obliged me by tilting his head back and allowing me to massage his scalp.

“We’re keeping her,” he murmured. “She’s good for you. You’re—” he cut himself off as rare uncertainty flashed in his eyes. He took a deep breath. “You’re more open with her than I’ve ever seen you. You’represent.”

Guilt racked me. I’d never been able to give Angelo that, terrified that one day I’d lose him to his violent mafia life. Ana drew feeling out of me, as if I couldn’t stop myself from reacting to her. She consumed my waking thoughts, amplifying my emotions.

Instead of answering him, I pushed down between his shoulder blades, until he caught himself with his hands on the wall, his strong arms holding both of us up, as I wrapped my arms around his waist.

One tug, two, and he was as hard as I was.

Angelo groaned.

“Whose cock is this?”

His startled laugh brought a smile to my lips.

“We don’t play those games with each other,” he rasped.

“Maybe we should.”

He turned around, and I tugged him toward me, out of the stream of water pouring over his face. We stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, each lost in our own thoughts.

Angelo cupped my cheek, his grey eyes serious and calm. “No. I’d lose you if I ordered you to drop to your knees for me.”

He was right. I bowed to no man, not even my lover. Neither did he.

I tangled my fingers in his salt-and-pepper hair and pulled his lips to mine for a gentle kiss. Our cocks rubbed together between us, soap and water and sweat mingling on our skin as the water rinsed the blood off Angelo.

“I won’t,” I swore, as I had again and again and again. “I won’t lose you.”

Angelo’s tongue slid along my lips, hot and tempting, and I opened for him, as I always did. His tongue scraped against my teeth, comforting and gentle, with none of the conquering malice he exhibited elsewhere in his life.

I ran my hands up his back until I pressed him to me, chest to chest, our hard muscles leaving no space between us.

“I’ll never let you go,” I promised as his lips dragged over my chin and down my throat, each scrape of his beard against my skin like molten lava, setting me on fire with need. “Angelo,” I breathed.

“Yes, my love,” he murmured as his hands found our cocks. I dragged his lips back to mine with one hand while my other tangled with his, stroking, our cocks sliding against one another as we fucked each other’s hands.

“Putain,” I swore as pleasure swept through me, tightening at the base of my spine. “You feel so fucking good.”

Angelo threw his head back and moaned. “Valentin,” he cried, my name like a prayer on his lips.

I dragged my tongue down his neck, lapping up the blood that lingered there, groaning as the salty iron taste slid down my throat. Angelo’s fingers tightened around my cock, and I almost exploded. All these years, and there wasn’t anyone who knew me, who knew my body, as well as he did.

“Don’t hold back,” he encouraged. “Come for me, my love.”

I moaned, my hand stroking over the hard velvet of his cock, harder, faster, willing him to take his pleasure alongside me.

Angelo rewarded my efforts with a moan, his fingers squeezing me tightly as he came all over me. A second later, I followed him over the cliff, bliss exploding out of me as I coated him in my release.

We stood there for long moments, breathing hard, until I leaned into him, resting my cheek on his shoulder. He drew his arms up my back, and we held each other.

“This is nothing,” he murmured into my ear. “A little bit of murder never bothered you before.”

I’d never worried he was going over the edge before either, but killing Dario Fontana and pissing off the mafia families who ran Rome and controlled imports and exports through Italy’s mainland was dangerous.

As if he could read my mind, he continued, “We’ll run imports through Corsica and Nice.” As if we hadn’t left a trail of bodies in the South of France while searching for Ana.

The French authorities would turn a blind eye, same as they had for all of the smuggled materials I used for my construction business. But the mafia wouldn’t. We’d pissed off a lot of people to get his sweet angel free, and now we were going to pay the price.

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