Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
AURORA
S inclair and I have been in his tech cave reviewing the footage of the date-rape douches as a way of distracting ourselves while waiting to hear from Gabi. We’ve managed to identify most of the boys from their very useful fraternity website. It’s a veritable who’s who of assholes in training. There isn’t a single one of them who doesn’t have some sort of institutionalised wealth covering their ass.
Even with the evidence we’ve got, any one of the lawyers they’re bound to have on retainer will get them out of charges, never mind going to court. Being able to get away with it isn’t a good reason for them to hit the clubs that got them on Nico’s radar to start with, though.
Something’s not adding up.
“What happens when you follow the money?” I ask.
“They’re all ridiculously well off and funded exclusively by the bank of mom and dad. I can’t see anything unusual in any of their personal accounts other than their obscene overspending. They have nothing unusual coming in.”
“What about the frat accounts?”
“Shit. Good call,” Sin says, fingers tapping furiously on his keyboard while I stand up and stretch.
I love watching him when he’s typing. Not only does the clack of the mechanical keys scratch some ASMR itch I didn’t think I had, but his focus is mesmerising. His fingers bounce over the keys with minimal pressure, like he’s enticing information from his various strings of code, not bashing the truth out of them. He never looks up and is constantly biting and releasing his bottom lip. It’s a glimpse of him in his natural habitat and it makes me feel a little like a voyeur.
“Found something,” he shouts out before muttering a number of swear words and hooking his fingers under the front of the keyboard, only to slam it down harder than I expect. “Motherfucker!”
“I’m not a mind reader, Sin,” I remind him, folding my arms across me and raising an eyebrow. When he remains quiet, I start tapping my foot on the floor.
“The frat is being subsidised by an offshore account. One that looks fucking familiar.”
I continue to tap my foot at him in the hopes that he’ll get to the fucking point.
“It’s an account for a De Luca shell corporation. Max is either a fucking idiot for using it or he wants us to know these cunts are on his payroll.”
“I’d put money on it being the second option. So he’s bankrolling them to stir up shit in our clubs? That doesn’t make sense.”
“I don’t think he’d pay them to make themselves known to the police,” he muses, running his hand down his face. “I need to do a deeper dive now that I know Max is involved. ”
He’s still rubbing his face, running his hand through what’s now a pretty convincing five o’clock shadow. “Go take a break, Sin. I need you firing on all cylinders.”
“Yes, boss.”
“How is it that both you and Nico manage to say ‘boss’ in a way that reminds me I call you both sir?” I ask, with a playful smirk and a mock sulky tone.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, colibrì .” Sinclair gets up from his desk and heads for the door. “Besides… sometimes you call me daddy, not sir.”
He’s gone before I can respond, and I’m chuckling as I head upstairs to check on Zo.
Zo’s been dozing most of the afternoon while I’m curled up in the armchair. I flip between checking my phone for alerts from the capos to going through the financial reports Dom sent me this morning. Looks like he’s on top of things. Business is good, and he’s got some great ideas for expansion in the future. He was a good hire.
His father had him languishing in the ass-end of nowhere, managing some of our warehouses. A complete waste of his talents. He’s young, but that’s no reason to sideline him where he’s absolutely no fucking good to me. I left his father in charge of the west side guns and reporting to Luc. For a member of the old guard, I was surprised how willingly he accepted Luc as his new boss.
Enzo starts to toss and turn, squeezing his eyes tight and flinching. I move the laptop off my lap and jump up. Sliding under the covers, I tuck myself into his side and squeeze, hoping the connection or my presence settles him.
He stills and curls into me, but it doesn’t take long for him to start twitching again. I prop myself up on one elbow and stroke the hair around his temple, teasing and twirling the haphazard tufts between my fingers. He turns his head towards me in his sleep, nuzzling against my touch. I love how he responds to me, even subconsciously.
Whatever he’s dreaming of won’t let him out of its grasp though. All of a sudden his dream obviously turns to nightmare, and he starts jerking beside me. I straddle him like before and this time I lay down flat, spreading out my weight to try to stop him from thrashing. He’s sleeping in his sling so the risk to his shoulder is reduced but I hate seeing him tormented like this.
I try to calm him with my words, but he’s still fretting and even when I start attempting to wake him up, it doesn’t work.
As I stroke down the side of his face, I drag my hand down the slope of his neck. I’m essentially riding him while he bucks and strains beneath me. His writhing turns to slow rolls of his hips and I can’t help but flex mine in response as he hardens beneath me.
“Enzo, you’re killing me here. I’m going to need you to wake the fuck up,” I whine, because regardless of how much this is turning me on, there’s no way I can use him to get myself off without his permission.
His tempo increases and I bark in frustration. “Wake up, Zo,” I shout, but it does nothing to snap him out of it. I wrap my hand around his neck and squeeze. His eyes shoot open and he sits bolt upright, pressing me hard against his chest as he wastes no time in claiming my lips. He’s feral and I fucking love it. His tongue ravishes me while his tight grip clutches me to him and pulls me down against his rock hard length.
I squeeze harder against his throat, and he closes his eyes in response before tipping his head back. I swear I can feel his dick twitching beneath me in response to the change in pressure I apply.
“I think you have a thing for hand necklaces, mio re ,” I tease.
He doesn’t open his eyes, breathing deep like he’s savouring the pressure of my grip. “Every time I feel your hand around my throat I feel like I’m yours.”
“You are mine,” I say, leveraging my hold to push him back so he’s flat on his back beneath me again. “Every. Last. Inch of you.” I punctuate each word by grinding my clit against the ridge of his dick. His sweats are doing nothing to minimise his hard-on. It’s practically begging to be ridden, and ridden hard.
“You were being such a little tease in your sleep. Rubbing against me, getting yourself off and leaving me wanting,” I say.
“You have my permission to use me any way you see fit, mia guerrierotta. Whether I’m awake or not. I’d never deny you what’s yours.”
I let out an honest-to-God whimper at the idea of sliding him inside me while he sleeps. I’m going to need to unpack that kink later, because right now I need to feel him. My clit is throbbing, and it protests when I stop grinding against him and shimmy back down his long legs. I grab his waistband on the way and pull off his sweats so I can take him in, in all his naked glory.
I’m not going to lie, I’m spoiled by my men and their… impressive appendages. And I never tire of watching how hard I make them. Of how my touch, tongue, and cunt make them throb and pulse and erupt for me.
Enzo lifts his head off the pillow to watch me and his cock bobs every time he tenses his stomach. The tip glistens with pre-cum, which falls in fat drops onto his lower abdomen.
“Don’t you dare move,” I purr. “You’re mine to play with now.” We lock gazes and I bask in his submission as he silently nods in reply. Relinquishing all that he is to me and quenching a thirst that I didn’t know I had.
I feverishly pull at my clothes, eager to feel his skin against mine. There’s nothing sexy about the way I clamber back onto the bed and when I’m level with his cock, I run the flat of my tongue from root to tip, swirling it around the crown and savouring the taste as I lick him clean. I take the bulbous head into my mouth and hollow my cheeks, sucking just hard enough to have him call out my name in a low, lustful baritone.
I rub my thighs together to try and ease the ache between them, but it does nothing other than highlight how wet I am and how empty I feel. Nothing but his cock inside me will satisfy me now.
Unable to deny myself any longer, with no preamble or tease, I reach for his length and impale myself in one swift motion. He’s so much to take in this position, but I don’t fucking care.
“Holy fuck, yes. God, yes,” he mutters as I start to ride him at a dizzying pace. He bends his legs behind me, which adjusts the angle and gives him the freedom to thrust in time with the movements of my hips. It tips me forward, forcing me onto my hands, so I can push back on him, fucking myself hard in time with the ever-increasing pounding into my pussy.
His girth forces my pussy into an exquisite stretch that draws me to the brink of orgasm, while his cock makes my walls clench every time it fills me to the hilt. We’re little more than instinct at this point, unable to speak in anything other than garbled pleas for more or cries of ecstasy.
“I’m going to come. Fuck yes, Aurora,” Enzo roars before seizing my left hand, bringing it to his throat, and holding it firmly to his pulse points. “Forever fucking yours, Don Bianchi.”
His words hit me like a tsunami, causing my orgasm to cascade through me in relentless waves that flood my core. I tighten my grip as he closes his eyes, surrendering himself to my control. The feeling of power heightens my pleasure forcing my orgasm to crest. I come hard and he draws it out with each brutal thrust, fucking me through it as he fills me with his release.
I ease off his neck and he takes my wrist. “Well, you definitely unlocked a new kink,” I say with a giggle, collapsing to his side and snuggling into him.
“I don’t know what it is, but it’s like it switches off my brain. Stops my thoughts from running rampant through my head,” he rambles in a drowsy cadence. That’s when I recognise that he’s slipped into a headspace I know well.
“Stay here, baby. I’ll be right back,” I say.
I drag myself up, not wanting to leave the comfort of his arms, but I know I have to. I pull the blankets back up over him before grabbing one of his t-shirts from his dresser drawer and throwing it on hastily. I dash down to the kitchen retrieving some water and any random snack I can find before I’m taking the stairs two at a time.
Placing the supplies on the bedside table, I head into the en suite. After tending to myself, I pick up a fresh washcloth and return to Zo. He looks like a sleepy kitten, admittedly a six-foot bear-like kitten, but still somehow a kitten.
I uncap the water bottle and nudge his arm with it. I’m new to administering this aftercare malarky, but I know when I fall into this headspace, I always need water, and Sin always brings it to me. Unless I’ve slipped into an orgasm-induced coma—which has happened.
He takes it from me, and while he gulps it down, I watch his Adam’s apple bounce and the taut muscle of his jaw flex as he swallows. That’s not something I’ve found sexy before, but my desire to be that bottle of water proves otherwise .
“I figured you wouldn’t want to shower and redress your wounds,” I say as I run the washcloth along the ridges and valleys of his chest, almost sad to be wiping the sweat from his skin, but then I can’t help but smile when he jolts as I move the cloth lower.
“The fuck are you doing, woman?” he yelps, with his eyebrows halfway to his hairline as I move the cloth along his still semi-hard cock, watching it twitch at the unexpected contact. It’s like his dick isn’t sure if this should turn it on or not.
“Looking after you. Drink your water, then doze and quit complaining,” I demand.
“Only if you come back to bed.”
“Deal.”
I nip back into the bathroom and toss the cloth in the hamper before hurrying back to him and jumping under the covers.
I run my hand across his chest and place my palm high on his collarbone, leaving me room to feather my fingers along one side of his throat while my thumb rubs the other side in slow, deliberate strokes.
He hums softly with each brush of my touch against his skin before kissing my forehead. “I love you, mia guerrierotta. ”
“I love you too, mio re .”
“Yours, always.”