Page 43 of Brutal Queen

“Fuck, yes. Enzo, yes,” I scream, I lose the ability to support my weight as pleasure tears through me and my thighs quiver. The hand at my hip moves round to my lower back and Enzo takes my weight and rises off his haunches to fuck me through my orgasm.

Any hope I had of gently coming down from that pleasure is extinguished as the change in angle triggers what feels like a cascade failure in my brain, because it simply does not compute. His pace doesn’t falter and I’m pushed straight back into another orgasm only this time Enzo comes with me, filling me in hot pulses that overflow and coat my thighs as he slows himself to long punishing thrusts.

I smile, savouring the sound of our combined releases slipping from my aching pussy while he continues to glide into me. “Look how well you take me, Aurora. And how greedy your cunt is for my cock.”

I look down and whimper when I see his glistening cock spear ruthlessly into my pussy. “Holy fucking God, I can’t take anymore. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“I think I can give you one more, Don Bianchi. Do you want me to destroy you, little warrior? Leave you spent and sated?” Every word out of his mouth is oozing with power and strength yet I know he’s waiting for my permission. Demanding I command him.

“Fuck… do it, make me come, Enzo,” I whine.

He pulls out of me and lifts me back on the sofa, my head falls over the back of the couch while my ass perches on the edge of the cushion. He spreads my legs wide and wastes no time in burying his head between them.

Palm facing up, he slides his two middle fingers deep into my swollen core and fucks me in slow even strokes, taking only moments to coax cries of pleasure from me again.

“This simply won’t do, I can do better than this,” he practically croons.

“I’d like to see you try,” I reply, unable to fathom how he could make me come again.

I don’t know when I closed my eyes but they shoot open when his tongue laps at my entrance before moving up to my clit and swirling in small circles. I scream his name when his lips seal around the swollen bundle of nerves and suck hard. Any barrier my head believes exists between me and my next orgasm breaks like a weak damn and I don’t just come for him. I gush for him.

As I come back down to earth his thick fingers move, still buried inside me. Reaching one hand down, I clutch his wrist, and slowly drag them out of me, bringing his hand to his lips.

“Such a good fucking boy for me. Now you can lick them clean.” For a moment I don’t know if I’ve gone too far. I only know that when Nico says things like that to me I fucking meltinside and the idea of watching him lick our cum off his fingers has me panting like an overexcited puppy.

“As you wish, Don Bianchi,” he says with a smile so broad it lights me up from inside. When he’s happy he’s savoured every drop he presents his hand back to me and I can’t help but mirror his broad grin.

Sitting up straight, I reach out and cradle his face in my hand, bringing his forehead gently to mine. “I love you, Enzo. Now and for always.”

“Now and for always.”

“I brought you lunch,”Sin says as he places a plate down in front of me and tugs my laptop away, before flipping down the screen.

“I was reading that.”

“You were reading the same thing for the last hour. It can wait until you’ve eaten,” he instructs, raising an eyebrow in a way that declares ‘I dare you to disobey me’.

“Has anyone ever told you, you’re bossy, Sinclair?” I fold my arms across my chest and lean back in my chair.

He mirrors me, folding his arms too, and we end up in a stand-off. Over a sandwich. One that I want, but I’ll be damned if I’ll be told what to do in the middle of my working day. He can order me the fuck around from sundown to sunup. But I’m the fucking boss now.

He doesn’t back down, instead, he steps forward, bending at the hip and placing his hands on the armrests of my chair, stopping when his eyes are level with mine and close enough for his irritated huffs to skitter across my skin.

“You, Aurora Bianchi, may be the boss of me, but when it comes to taking care of you, I’m in fucking charge. That’s myfucking job to make sure you don’t run yourself into the ground.” His tone is cool and even, unwavering. He picks up the plate and hands it to me. “Eat.”

I take it from him and blow out an exasperated breath. “Fine.” I look at the sandwich dubiously for a moment before adding, “You better not have put pickles in this.”

“You’ll eat what I make you and like it, you stubborn woman,” he says, a smile finally breaking the frown he was forcing.

“Yes, sir,” I concede, placing the plate down and taking an overdramatic bite out of the sandwich.

It’s infuriatingly good. It’s a club sandwich, swimming in mayo. Sinclair’s low rumbling chuckle makes me look up at him quizzically. With my mouth half full I let out a garbled, “What?”

Just as I swallow, he reaches out and uses his thumb to wipe away a large smear of mayonnaise at the corner of my mouth, and shows me before licking it clean.

“So you want to talk about what’s got you holed up in your office? I thought we were all set for the meeting with Gabriella?” Sinclair says, taking his regular spot at the table. It’s always set up with one of his laptops these days. When he’s not running anything that requires his full fleet of technology he prefers to work in my office.

“We are,” I say sheepishly. I’m nervous to share what I’ve been looking into. Firstly, I don’t want it to look like it bothers me, but equally, I’m keen to find out how the fuck we didn’t know that Nico was Salvatore’s son.

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