Page 195 of The Slayer
“Is it?”
He nodded and laughed again. “Just a song.”
“But itistrue.” Alaine rolled up to him. “Some days it’s good.”
“Some days,” he agreed as he ran a hand through her hair and then pulled her closer.
Chuito leaned up and captured her lips with his, letting his tongue slip past her lips when she parted to him. The two of them kissed long enough for her to forget the bad parts and just savor being Chuito’s wife, in his arms, with his ring on her finger and his hard cock pressing against her hip.
Chuito rolled them over and moved down to her neck, sucking and licking even though she had to use a lot of makeup to cover up all the other marks on her body.
Today she didn’t care.
Next week she’d work on that bad habit, because she was guilty of it too as his very expensive tuxedo and her more costly dress were tossed aside. The gun he wore under his jacket ended up lost in silk and lace, forgotten because they were safe for the moment.
The two of them lay spread out on that massive penthouse bed, completely naked, kissing and touching simply because they could, and there was nothing in the world to stop them. The passion was a slow burn this time, filled with awe and gratitude in a way Alaine knew few love stories unfolded. That was the gift of this life she chose; it taught her how precious these things were in ways she couldn’t have comprehended before Miami.
Alaine ended up breathless, sweaty, tugging on his hair and arching her hips to the hot slide of his cock against her bare stomach. Chuito was starting to get desperate too, the tease becoming almost cruel for both of them, but it just felt so good to touch. To take their time. To love each other fully and unconditionally.
“Eres tan bella, tan sexy.” Chuito ran a hand up her thigh and then slid his fingers between her folds, tracing the outline of her sex as she moaned and closed her eyes against the white-hot rush of pleasure. “Feels good, mami. You always feel good.Coño, te lo voy a meter tan duro.”
Alaine got the impression the things he said in Spanish were hidden on purpose, dirty things he wanted to do to her, so much so he had to say them out loud, even if she couldn’t understand.
And that was okay.
She tossed her head on the comforter while he took his time with touching her. Brushing his thumb against her clit, making the hum of arousal burn brighter. When he finally pushed in, stretching her, she jerked under him. “God, Chu.”
Then she reached up to thread her fingers into his hair and tugged him down, because he had been watching her like it turned him on to see how easily he could make her wet. She kissed him and wrapped her legs around his waist, tangling herself up with him. She opened wide to the thrust of his tongue and pushed her hips against his, letting him know without asking that she needed so much more than just his touch.
She wanted to feel him in her.
Fucking her.
Claiming her.
Fusing the two of them together until it seared their souls to the point that nothing could pull them apart.
Never again.
She was still desperate to hide from the fear, and he was so very good at making her forget.
Chuito stopped kissing her long enough to suck on his fingers indulgently, making it obvious the taste of her got him off, but she was too needy to do anything more than claim his mouth again.
It was Alaine who guided him into her. Then she clung to Chuito, feeling his muscles clench under her fingers when he pushed in deep. She bit her lip to catch the moan as the bliss of coming together like this swept over her, making all the fine hairs on her arms stand on end from the force of it.
It might never be truly soft; even when they tried, the gentleness faded to the rush of passion. The tidal wave of pleasure always made them both greedy, hungry, desperate as they moved against each other, hot and hard until she was screaming and he was groaning against the curve of her neck.
She wasn’t really sure who climaxed first; it was just one pounding, violent crash of ecstasy that washed over both of them, leaving everything a little rosier in its wake. Alaine knew it was probably a lie, but right then she had to agree with Chuito.
Some days it wasverygood to be a gangster.
* * * *
It wasn’t until three days later, when Chuito and Alaine were sitting naked on the king-size bed in the penthouse hotel room Nova had rented for them, that Chuito remembered the envelope Tino had put in the bag.
It took them that long to get around to fetching the wedding bag from Tony.
Now the two of them were surrounded by a sea of white envelopes and cash, another one of the fringe benefits of being a gangster, and Chuito was enjoying the novelty of it as much as Alaine was.
