Page 57 of Sins of the Orchid
“What are you doing, Santi?” I asked, my voice strangely breathless and raspy under his gaze. After what had happened last time he kissed me, I should be offended every time he was near me. Yet the opposite was true.
A hot, hungry desire flashed in his eyes, setting off the flames I wanted to contain.
“I like your perfume, Amore.” Jesus, when he purred my name like that, I was ready to melt into a puddle of mush.
A voice whispered inside me, warning me to push him away and leave this room, but my body refused to listen. A war waged between my body and mind, and it didn’t bode well for me.
“I-I’m not wearing perfume, Santi,” I whispered, my voice wavering.
My body pressed against his, winning the internal battle. His expression simmered into something dark and hot, and a shiver ran down my spine as his fingertips came to my neck, his thumb gently brushing against my raging pulse.
“I want you, Amore Bennetti.” So direct, yet it didn't surprise me. There was so much sex laced in his voice, I thought I would combust into pleasure just from his words. “Spend the night with me.”
I hesitated for a second. It had been what I had wanted for so long. Santi was the first boy that brushed my tears away, the first boy to hold my head as I puked my guts out after getting drunk, my first crush, and my first kiss. The question was whether he would be my first heartbreak because I had a feeling getting over Santi would be devastating.
Except I wanted him. I had always wanted him.
Determination settled within me. He felt right to me, and I had never been the one to give up when I wanted something.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Santino Russo would be my first everything.
CHAPTER18
Santino
The moon glow over Amore’s features made her appear surreal, like an angel with flames of fire for hair. I came into the library seeking solitude. Ever since Pà was gunned down, I have felt only rage and sorrow, hunger for revenge. The anger and guilt swelled inside me, threatening to burst like a dam under the pressure.
Then I saw her there. Amore Bennetti in my library. For my taking. If there was anything to ease this pain, it was her.
She is still a kid, I told myself. I had no business standing here with a twenty-year-old girl that watched me with eyes of green and innocent infatuation in her stare. Yet, the kid and girl faded away. All I saw in its place was a woman.
A woman with curves and a soft body that called to me. I wanted to know every inch of her body and soul; break her, only to put her together again and ruin her for any other man.
Amore Bennetti was mine.
Adriano said there were plenty of times boys chased after her in Italy. I wasn’t a boy, and I certainly didn’t fuck like one.
I waited for her to push me away. But instead, her small hand came to my chest, her fingertips wrapping around my tie, then gently tugged on it. She was nervous. I didn’t blame her, not after what had happened two years ago. We haven’t spoken nor seen each other since.
But the moment she accepted my invitation, I knew she was mine, and now I would take her. Somehow over the last two years, since that first innocent kiss, she had become my obsession. My craving. I told myself it was fucked up. All wrong. It didn’t matter.
Her whole body pressed against me, her skirt softly crushed between our bodies, and I closed the distance between us as I lifted her into my arms.
Her hands wrapped around my neck, and I strode out of the library and into my bedroom. The one I hadn’t stepped into since we left this place behind. Our housemaid had cleaned the entire house in anticipation that either my brother or I would decide to move back, but the chances were slim to none.
She tilted her head up, her eyes watching me with so much trust, it hurt my heart. I lowered my head and licked the seam of her mouth until she parted those lush lips for me. God, I fucking missed her. Her strawberry smell, her smiles, her green eyes. I didn’t understand this reaction I had, but I knew I’d never share her.
Once inside my bedroom, I pushed the door with the sole of my shoe and it clicked behind me, locking Amore inside the room with me. Never breaking the kiss, her tongue danced in perfect harmony with mine. She had grown more confident in her kiss, making me wonder how many boys she’d had. It didn’t matter because she would have none going forward.
I would take her everything - her body, heart, and soul. Nothing less would do.
I slid the dress off her body. Her undergarments followed, then I gently lowered her onto the bed, her red hair sprawled across the pillows. The soft light of the moon filtered through the large window and illuminated her face and those stunning eyes locked on me.
Her golden skin was in full view. Her hands reached out and loosened my tie. Then her graceful fingers fumbled, working on the buttons of my shirt. Impatient to feel her skin against mine, I helped her and discarded it onto the floor. The rest of my clothes and shoes quickly followed.
Her hands came up to my chest, the touch soft and tender. I didn’t do gentle, but for her… fuck, I’d try. Her wide eyes watched me with awe and curiosity, no shyness or reservation in them.
