Page 38 of Tide of Treason
Was he out here tailoring his grooming habits to please a woman who had zero interest in him?
A white-hot rage seared through me, turning the pleasure sharp. If I was already plunging off this particular cliff,I might as well perform one hell of a swan dive. So, naturally, I pressed myself harder against his mouth, smothering him and punishing myself in equal measure.
A sick, desperate sound crawled out of my throat when he sucked my clit between his lips. I scraped my fingers through his curls, fisting tight at the roots, making sure he stayed. Then, he spat just to watch it drip between my cheeks. I hissed out a soft stream of profanities. He was mean about it too, gripping my ass so tight I’d probably find bruises tomorrow, using his thumbs to press me open even further before dragging his tongue in a slow, hot stripe down the seam of my ass, teasing the tight ring of muscle.
The sensation pulled at the base of my spine.
My legs began to shake.
My lungs burned.
He flicked, pressed, breached, and I shuddered so violently I nearly came from that alone.
“Porra, eu vou te fazer gozar assim.”Fuck, I’m going to make you cum like this.
My palms slapped the window, forehead dropping forward as a sledgehammer of bliss tore through me. I felt every nerve ending spark, my body tightening around emptiness because this sadistic bastard refused to give me his fingers. When I finally shoved away, body humming with too much sensation, I fixed him with a dark, scathing glare.
“You . . .” Another slow exhale to compose myself because I was not this person. Didn’t fall to pieces and dissolve into a mess of incoherent lust, and certainly didn’t act like avirgin getting her first taste. “I hope you enjoyed that. Because it’s the last time I’ll ever sit on your face,stronzo.”
Lucius wiped his jaw with the back of his shoulder. “We’ll see.”
My nose scrunched. “Choke on your ego.”
“Only if it tastes like you,principessa.”
10 | Kayla
29 years old
Present day
“Let me getthis straight,” the doctor, a beady-eyed man who smelled like latex gloves and broken dreams, said while clicking through my X-rays. “You ingested a piece of jewelry?”
The way he saidjewelrysuggested I’d swallowed something that belonged in the Vatican archives. A diamond-encrusted crucifix. The lost Fabergé egg. Maybe a Pope’s femur, judging by the disbelief dripping from his tone. I supposed it was a valid assumption, given the Sforza family’s enthusiasm for owning expensive, unnecessary shit.
“Yes,” I deadpanned. “A wedding ring.”
His eyes flicked to my left hand. No ring. Then to my right hand. Still nothing.
“Not mine,” I clarified, when the silence stretched uncomfortably long. “I borrowed it.”
“Borrowed it how?”
I let out a slow breath. “With my esophagus.”
“. . . I see.”
The way he said it made it painfully obvious he didnotsee, but he was a man with a medical degree, not a priest, and he wisely refrained from asking further. After a few more minutes of pressing on my stomach and making medically concerned noises, he finally pushed his glasses up his nose and gave me the verdict.
“Well, the good news is, it should pass naturally within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”
I let my head fall back against the exam table. “What’s the bad news?”
“The bad news is, you’ll have to . . .checkfor it.”
Ah.
He explained the whole process in excruciating detail, then added, “And if it doesn’t come out, you’ll need surgery.”
