Addicted to Santino - Amarie Avant Page 0,19

it will last.”

“Forever.”

She lowers her head against my shoulder. “That’s the kind of confidence I require of my team at work. The kind my father instilled—oh, crap. I shouldn’t bring up . . .”

I smile down at her. “You can tell me anything.”

When she offers this ‘yeah right’ face, I repeat myself. “Anything.”

“Alright, anything.” Gina shrugs. “I was about to block you when your text came through. Trust me, when I pull that tactic, it’s like dropping a bomb. Santi, that video you sent me must be heartbreaking.”

I cup her breasts, drawing her ass against my cock.

“Hey, you said . . .”

“And I’m telling you, Bella.” I pinch her nipple between my index and thumb. Clearing my throat, I speak up. “I’ve considered deleting the old video on my phone so many times. My sister was in and out of the hospital with breast cancer.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Our parents had us pretty late in their years. You heard my ma. She will forget everything but the fight in her. Like you, Ma’s a fighter.”

A smile brightens Gina’s face.

“Anyway, my dad was mixed up in . . .” My ma’s family business. Running with her brothers. “Mixed in some bad shit. Ma dropped him so many times.”

Unsure why I’ve gone off on a tangent, I hug Gina closer to me. “So, anyway, they had us old. Still not too old for Mina to die young. She was in the hospital withering away, unable to attend Ma’s 70th birthday party. At the end of the video, Ma realized who we all were. She had the biggest smile on her face.”

Gina nudges her ass softly into mine. “Awe, Santino.”

“I was telling my sister that I’d delete the clip once the videographer I paid finalized Ma’s birthday video. Mina said she might be able to wait.” The muscles beneath my jaw work harder. “Mina was so tiny. I could wrap my hands around her stomach, twice over. Mina threatened revenge from the grave if I deleted the video before the videographer had the same frame of Ma’s smile.”

“So, did the videographer have a better video?”

“As much as he cost? Hell yeah. He had ‘the money shot,’ pretty much for every moment that night. But it wasn’t about the promise. So, with every new phone, I’ll never delete the video.”

13

Gina

“Make love to me, now, please.” I groan. My back is flush against Santino’s immense body. Though I’m aware he saw me gawking at his colossal cock before, I’m prepared now. His heartbreaking story has made me want to seal the madness of desire between us.

He moves me around, like a stripper would his highest paying client. I’m suddenly beneath a mountain of muscles, screaming “Santi,” for the hell of it.

Santino’s hand runs down my stomach, blazes around the curve of my hips. His palms circle back up to my knees, pressing me wide. My pussy juices up like never before.

I gasp as he squeezes one of my breasts, palming my achy nipple. At the same time, two of his fingers from his right hand stroke my clit to a burning fire of need.

I press my legs wider, arching against his touch, and he enters me with a single finger.

“Please, Santino,” I cry, though my breath is ragged.

He covers my breasts, where his hand just was, inserting two fingers into my core. He’s biting my neck. I’m moaning for him to “never, ever stop, Santino,” as he inserts three beefy fingers inside of me.

“You’re still so tight,” Santino growls.

“S-so-so?” I whimper in a static of spoiled restraint.

I’m grinding down, chewing my bottom lip in contemplation of how his thick fingers are breaking me.

Santino kisses my neck. “Gina, Bella, my lovely future wife, this will hurt.”

I run a shaky hand over my spiraled tresses. Maybe this isn’t love. This could be the affection of an Italian god, with a woman. And I’m that woman who deserves this. I huff, the definition of turned out. “Break me, Santino.”

The beast chuckles. His fingers work my core, stoking a flame of desire that can only build and burn me from the inside out.

“Santino!” My scream pierces the night sky. “It’s not enough, I need you.”

He replies in Italian, “Gina, you’re ready.”

“Oh, thank you.” My head hits the pillow. I thrash like a druggy who scored a free high after attempting—and failing at—coming back down.

Santino pulls his fingers from my sex. In the heat of being sexed by the most erotic man in the universe, I forget to object. His fingers, slick