The delving of her tongue into the slit at the top of his cock, accompanied by that squeezing and rolling of his balls, brought his release to an explosive climax.
Carla kept her lips tight about Leon’s cock as she swallowed down the pulsing of that release to the back of her throat. She relished its thickness and creamy taste, sure she was becoming addicted to it as she continuing to suck and lap up that release until she was positive there was no more left inside him. For now.
After all, Leon had said his plans to leave today had been changed and that she was staying right here with him.
“Are you coming up from under there, or waiting for me to get hard again?” his teased.
Carla eased back from his slowly softening cock. “Depends how long that’s going to take,” she answered truthfully.
Leon chuckled. “Not long at all if you’re going to keep pumping my cock and squeezing my balls.”
Which, Carla realized with self-derisive snort, was exactly what she was still doing.
“Sorry.” She released him before sliding her body back up to the top of the bed and lifting her head and shoulders above the duvet.
“Don’t ever apologize for giving me pleasure,” he drawled.
Leon looked… Debauched, probably best described the messy gray hair, blown pupils, flushed cheeks, and slightly parted lips. His chest rose and fell erratically as he breathed shallowly.
A smile curved his lips. “That was—incredible,” he murmured. “Are you okay?” he added worriedly.
“Perfect,” she assured him.
“I asked how you feel, not how you look,” he teased.
“Flatterer,” she derided. “Besides which, my hair is a mess, I have a gauze bandage covering one temple, and I’m wearing a borrowed nightgown two sizes too big for me.” She gave a snort. “Hardly perfect.”
Carla had woken just as daylight was starting to filter through the two windows she already knew were made of privacy glass. Leon hadn’t said as much, but she wasn’t stupid and had guessed they were also bulletproof.
Adding to her feelings of safety.
And allowing her the indulgence of looking at Leon stretched out on his back beside her, one of his arms still about her shoulders as he held her anchored firmly against his side.
Carla’s head no longer ached, it just felt a little sore where the butterfly bandages were. She still didn’t remember the shooting itself, but she was sure even that would come back to her eventually.
In her nightmares, most probably.
She had gotten up in the night to use the bathroom. The swaying from a loss of balance when she stood was enough for her to send a quick text to her deputy manager telling her she wouldn’t be in on Monday, and probably not Tuesday either.
After that, she’d returned to the bedroom to lie next to Leon as it became lighter and lighter outside, enjoying him as Leon the man, rather than Leonardo Brunelli, head of the Mafia.
He looked years younger with his hair tousled and the lines smoothed from beside his eyes and mouth. His body was a sculpted work of art. Utterly delicious, in fact.
Carla had waited as long as she could before giving in to the yearning she felt to touch and taste him.
Which was why Leon had woken to the feel of her mouth engulfing the silky heat of his already aroused cock. Carla had reveled in every groan Leon made, along with the sinuous arching of his body, as indication that she was giving him pleasure.
Benny hadn’t been into the giving or receiving of oral pleasure. Carla had occasionally managed to reach a climax during their missionary-position sex, but not always.
Now that she thought about it, there were so many things Benny wasn’t into that she couldn’t help but wonder what the hell she’d ever seen in him, let alone why she’d agreed to marry him.
He hadn’t been violent or mean to her, and yes, he had been very handsome with his black hair and dark eyes and muscularly defined body. He had also been fun when he wasn’t working and she eventually managed to drag him away from watching the latest football match on the television. He hadn’t been too much of a slob to live with either.
But were any of those things reason enough for marrying someone?
Hadn’t she felt more humiliated than heartbroken when she found him in bed with another woman? A woman she now realized she should probably have felt sorry for rather than angry about if Benny had given her the same lack of physical pleasure and consideration he’d given to Carla.
“Where did you go?” Leon turned on his side to lean on his elbow and look at her searchingly.
She smiled up at him. “I’m right here.” She’d never felt more here than when she was with Leon. He made her feel very much alive and utterly desirable with just a look from those expressive gray eyes.
“Yes, you are,” he murmured softly, his hand moving up so that his fingers could lightly stroke the warmth of her cheek. “I want to give you pleasure now. Can I?”
She made a choking sound in her throat. “Has any woman ever dared to say no to you?”
His fingers stopped caressing, his eyes darkening and his lids narrowing. “I don’t recall it ever happening,” he grated. “But I would hope that wasn’t because the woman daren’t say no to me.”
Carla winced at the underlying anger in his tone. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Oh, I think you did.” Leon rolled onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.
He’d had sex with dozens of women in his twenties and early thirties. All beautiful. All willing, for whatever reason. And yes, he’d known that many of them had just wanted to bed the son of the then head of the Italian Mafia, whether for
