Page 109 of Extradition (Mobsters + Billionaires 1)
RAND
When we were walkingfrom Tribeca and Soho tonight, I picked up on the fact that Joe was in a spin. He’s better now, but I know he hates the bloodshed as much as I know he did not and will never hesitate to save my life.
It’s one thing to know and another entirely to witness it firsthand. When he handed me off to security, I thought I’d never see him again. I knew he was going after his father, not because of what was done to him, but because of what was done to me.
The relief on his face when I kiss him tells me he’s worried he broke us, but nothing could be further from the truth. I’ve had plenty of protection in the form of security guards, but I’ve never had someone protect me because they love me. Ever.
I don’t know what will happen with the Portelli crime family now that the leadership structure is dead, but that’s a problem for another night. Right now, I need to show Joe that I’ve got his back. That I know he did what he had to do.
If I thought letting him rail me would do the trick, I’d totally be up for it, but that’s not what he needs. I’m more of a soft top when the occasion calls for it, and I just hope that I’m enough for him.
Placing my hand on his lower back, I maneuver him through the living room, then into my bedroom and the ensuite. Wordlessly, I strip him bare, rough with the execution so he knows who’s in charge.
Turning on the water, I set it to the perfect temperature before grabbing Joe’s hand and walking us into the large shower stall. The first time we did this, I used carefully angled spray jets to get him there, but this time he needs me.
Blood-stained water circles the drain as I rinse him down with the handheld sprayer, then use charcoal soap and a loofah to scrub him raw, ridding his body of any remaining evidence of tonight’s violence. I use a softer pouf and a moisturizing wash to clean him again, more gently this time.
He stands under the many showerheads, head bowed and cock soft as I wash and manipulate his body. Once we’re both clean, I lead him by the hand out of the shower and dry him carefully with luxurious towels, making sure to run the soft material over every crease and crevice.
I kneel before him and take him into my mouth, with comfort as my only purpose. His hands grip my head as I gently suck and tongue him until he begins to plump. His demeanor remains subdued, but his cock is long and hard when I pull off.
Leading him to the bed with a firm grip, I pull back the duvet. “Lie face up, head on the pillows.”
He does as I ask, but his eyes don’t meet mine.
“Look at me, Joe. Eyes on me.”
His brows stitch together and his chin wobbles, but eventually, he does as he’s told. The broken look he gives me just about takes my knees out from under me. Hovering, I place a series of soft kisses on his brows, nose, lips.
“Don’t think. Let your mind go. Let me take care of you.”
He takes a deep breath and blinks away a few tears. Seeing how profoundly this affects him, I understand more clearly how important I am to him. Lowering my body to his, I kiss him as we connect from head to toe, our hard cocks sliding next to each other.
I trail open-mouth kisses down his neck and across his collarbones, stopping to suck gently on each nipple. He moans, and I grin against the heated skin before moving down to kiss and suck at his belly.
Rolling his sensitive nipples between two fingers, I dive my tongue into his belly button, soft-fucking it until his hips arch off the bed.
I kiss the crease between his hip and thigh, bypassing his dick despite his many protests. Angling his thighs up and back, I spit on his hole, then drag my tongue past his balls and up his length before swirling it around his cockhead.
I do this again and again, stopping at various points along the way to nip and suck at the sensitive skin. I’m careful not to repeat the pattern, keeping him on his toes.
The gentle scrape of my teeth along his skin makes his cock jump. I squeeze his head, licking up the clear pearl of precum. Threading our fingers together, I hold his hand as I pull moan after moan from him, knowing exactly what he needs, what grounds him.
His muscles tense and relax under my teasing pressure, and I continue until he begins to whimper.
“Please,” he chokes out, tears building once again. “Please let me come.”
He’s overstimulated and desperate for more, too far into what we’re doing to think about tonight. I flick his nipple, then stop to slick myself up. Flattening my palm against his undercarriage, I smear the leftover lube across his hole.
“Please,” he begs in a voice I don’t recognize.
“Shh, baby. I’ve got you. You want to come now?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Want it to hurt a little?”
He swallows thickly and nods.
