Page 16 of Bruno
His fingers fumble with the buttons of my blouse, his breath hot and heavy against my neck. I arch my back, scraping my back against the bark—giving him easier access, my heart racing with anticipation. When he finally slides the fabric off my shoulders, exposing my bare skin to the crisp air, I gasp.
Bruno’s eyes darken. Intensifying, while his gaze burns into me like a brand. Cupping my breasts, his thumbs brush my nipples, sending a fresh wave of longing coursing through me. While he feeds like a starving man. Stuffing both my nipples into his mouth simultaneously. Smashing and kneading my breasts until they’re as bruised as my back. I cry out, digging my nails into his shoulders, urging him on instead of complaining. My head falling back against the tree when I damn near swoon.
His erection presses against me, and I grind against him, desperate for friction. He growls against my breast, his fingers moving lower, skimming over my belly and slipping beneath the waistband of my jeans. His cool touch meets the heat of my skin, and I arch my hips toward him, urging him to take everything I’m offering. He doesn’t hesitate. His fingers find the wet heat between my legs and stroke me with a skill that has me mewling like a cat in heat. If his men are near, there’s no mistaking that sound.
My eyes water as he continues stroking me. Bending my body to his will so he can work with me with his fingers while devouring my breasts. Shit. His mouth moves to my ear, his words hot and heavy against my skin. “You feel so good, Attia,” he grunts in ragged breaths. “So fucking perfect.”
My body trembles with enough force to move the tree. “Bruno,” I gasp, “please.”
He pulls back, his eyes locking with mine as he removes his fingers. “Be fucking sure,” he warns, his voice thick with lust. “Once you’re mine—you stay mine.”
I reach down to unbutton his pants. “I’m yours,” I nod, while my mind shrieks—what?But I’m not worrying about past hurts, issues, or our mistakes. Right now, all I want is Bruno, and I’m willing to pay whatever the cost of having him is. I push his jeans down his hips.
He steps out of them, and his erection springs free.My God, was he always this big?He gives me little time to wonder—when he lifts me up, presses me against the tree, and works his way inside me. I lock my legs around him, my body stretching to accommodate him. It’s been so long since we’ve been together like this, but it feels like yesterday.
He moves, filling me. I cry out as I take him deep inside me. His pace is urgent and frantic, driven by our shared primal needs. Our bodies move together in a disjointed rhythm. It’s not pretty. If making love is ballet, then we are a wild, frenetic, hip-hop beat being scratched out in a rough melody that shouldn’t work, but it does.Lord, does it.The frantic pace sends new jolts of electricity to every part of my body. Until I can no longer hold back. I scream his name, my orgasm ripping through me, tearing me apart and reshaping me.
Bruno follows me over the edge, his release triggered by my own. He collapses against me, his breath battering the side of my neck as we work our way down the high. Our bodies are so intertwined that I don’t know where I begin or end. I trace my fingers along his back, enjoying the muscles tensing and relaxing beneath my touch. This will change everything, but I can’t bring myself to care. For now, we are together, and that’s all that matters.
“Are you okay?” I whisper. My soft voice competes with rustling leaves and distant bird calls. He nods. His cheek brushes against mine as he nuzzles closer.
“Never been better,” he murmurs, his voice husky with lingering desire. There’s a smile in his words, and it spreads through my chest. Despite everything that’s happened between us, we’re still here, still connected.
But the weight of reality settles over us like a shroud. We can’t stay here forever. The challenges we face are waiting for us to confront them head-on. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what’s next.
“What now?” I ask, though I want to kick myself for ruining the moment. I don’t know if I’m ready for the answer, but we can’t ignore it any longer.
Bruno lifts his head, meeting my gaze with a solemn expression. “Now, we figure out how to move forward,” he says, his voice resolute. “Together.”
I know that it won’t be easy. But now isn’t the time for doubts. So, I reach up, cup his face in my hands, and pull him down for a kiss. Hoping that for now, it will be enough.
Chapter 7
The leather couch sinks beneath us when Attia nestles against my side. Her laugh sends my pulse racing, while her fingers trace loops and swirls on my arm. The soft teasing after so long nearly unmans me. I’ve had her again… several times. Still not-a-fucking-nuff. The scent of her shampoo teases me with wicked reminders of our shared shower. I’ve just had her, and I’m hard as a fucking rock. I reach for her mouth, our lips nearly touching, when the stairs creak. Our son is the biggest cock-blocker I’ve ever met. I don’t know if it’s on purpose or not. Doesn’t matter. If it keeps me from his mother, he’s happy.
“Shit,” Attia whispers, pushing me away while scrambling to fix her shirt. “Let me up.” She insists while wiggling out of my arms. Giving me the look. I almost refuse her. Almost. But I can’t refuse her anything.
The steps grow louder—closer. He’s doing it on purpose to rattle us. I know for certain when he turns and goes in the opposite direction, heading to the kitchen. I can’t wait until he brings home a girl. It’ll be a childish dick move, but he has it coming. Until then, I clench my jaw and drum my fingers on my knee until I nearly break bone. “He’s not a kid anymore, Attia,” I say, trying to keep my voice patient but firm. She wants us to hide. But I’ve been hiding too long. She’s my woman, and everybody should know it—especially our son. Hell, he probably already does. The kid is smart—and a smartass.
“We’ll tell him when we’re sure where this is headed. It wouldn’t be right to dump it on him right now,” she shoots back, crossing her arms. “Not when we don’t know if this is going to last.”
“We fucking know,” I snarl, as anger churns inside my stomach. “Do you think this isn’t going to last? We’ve carried this torch-like fucking Olympians for sixteen years. Do you think it’s going to go out anytime soon?” She bites her lip, and I should give her time to process my words, but I can’t. Not when she’s thinking of slipping away from me. That shit isn’t happening. “I’m not going anywhere. Maybe you were able to go on with your life. Get married,” I say, gutting myself with a rusty knife. “But I didn’t.Couldn’t. Now that we’re together again, I would never let you go—”
“Bruno, you don’t know—”
“I fucking know. You’re the one that needs to catch up.”
“Okay, fine. I’m the one who’s watching and waiting. But you can’t be mad at me for straddling the fence that you put me on.”
“So what was I supposed to do? Not come back? Leave you alone for the rest of my life when youaremy life?”
“Except I wasn’t. You went on with your life, too.” I’m not about to let that stand. Hell no. Before I can argue, she says, “Okay, maybe you didn’t marry. But if this thing hadn’t come up with the Verrazanos, would we have ever seen you again? And if so, how long would we have had to wait?”
“That’s not the real question. The real question is: How long will I have to pay? I fucked up. I stayed away too long. I asked you to forgive me, and you said you did. Your body confirms it every time we touch. But you’re still making me pay.”
“That’s not true. All I’m saying is, let’s not push things too fast. After all this time, can’t we spare a little more?”
Like time is my fucking friend.
