Page 8 of Sin & Sapphire

My mother had done the same to me.

“Just your mom wants to know?” he said, pushing me, always pushing me.

I took a deep breath and tried to make the words of affirmation escape my throat, to take flight and reassure him. My mouth opened, closed, then opened again.

Angelo smiled, and all at once, his compassion overwhelmed me. “I miss you too,” he said.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. He forgave me every time for my lack of emotion, the walls I’d erected long ago, when I’d been shipped out of the Côte d’Ivoire and thought I’d lost everything important to me.

“I had dinner with Maman,” I said quietly. “She’s enjoying her retirement.”

Angelo smiled his crooked smile, the one that was only for me, soft and sweet, if such words could ever be used to describe such a brutal man. He bent over, escaping the frame of the phone for a moment, and then stood up again, fully naked.

When he grabbed the phone and moved to his bed, I caught sight of his rock-hard cock. My mouth watered, and I palmed my own.

“Angelo,” I murmured, “don’t be a tease.”

He laughed and set the phone beside the bed. I couldn’t see his face, but I could see his cock, hard and pierced, and already leaking precum.

“Sì,” he agreed as he pumped his hand up and down, lubricating his grip with the precum. “And because—” He cut himself off.

And because he wanted to talk to me about Ana. Worry battled with my need for release. It had been bad enough when Ana was safe in Yorkfield under the care of her abusive father. Now, Angelo was free to unleash his protective instincts, and that meant trouble.

My hand clenched around my cock, and I groaned.

“That’s it,” Angelo coaxed, as he fucked up into his own hand. “Show me how much you miss me,” he said.

I shook the morose thoughts out of my head. Angelo deserved my attention now.

“I wish you were here,” he said, his voice low and raspy, hitting deep in my chest. “I think better when you’re here.”

I looked more closely at his hand—bloody knuckles, like he’d been beating the shit out of a wall. Or a person.

“Angelo, what did you do?”

He grinned, his predatory smile toothy and cruel. “Took out my frustration on some assholes who thought that because Gio was dead, they could steal money from one of his strip clubs.”

Was Ana grateful to him for preserving her legacy? Or was she a spoiled brat who’d lash out now that her father couldn’t beat her to keep her in line, and draw Angelo into the bloody consequences of her actions?

“Look at me,” Angelo growled. “Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it.”

My lips tilted into a smile. “Easier said than done.”

“Touch yourself,” he demanded. I dropped back into my pillows and pleasured myself with hard strokes, my eyes fixed on my lover’s cock. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

My eyes flew to his. How had he known?

Angelo adjusted the phone again, holding it above him, so I could see the ecstasy on his face as he pumped his hand up and down his cock. I could taste his familiar salty musk, smell the spice of his cologne, as we pleasured ourselves, tied by affection, connected by the video on the phone, even as we were an ocean away from one another.

“Valentin!” Angelo cried as he came, his face contorting with bliss as his seed spurted out of his cock.

“Fuck!” I swore as pleasure gathered at the base of my spine. I moaned, and Angelo smiled, never taking his eyes from the screen.

“Give it to me, my love,” he said. “Give me something to remember until I come home to you.”

I came, my eyes squeezing shut on my secret shame. I hadn’t just imagined Angelo. I’d imagined his bitch niece, on her knees, her ass red from my crop, absolutely gorgeous as she cried and choked on my cock.

I was so fucked.

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