Page 73 of Vows of Blood

Although I’m not sure either of us knows what we’re talking about anymore.

I press another kiss to the inside of her knee, then higher, and higher still, then feel her hand come down to grip my hair, loving the sting as she tugs gently.

"But I’ll make you a deal," I murmur against her skin, running my tongue along the seam between the top of her leg and her pelvis, impatient to taste her once more. "You can tell me what you want tomorrow."

I look up at her, waiting, rolling my thumb over her clit, and then slide a finger knuckle deep into her soft channel, and again, keeping the same pace, the same rhythm.

“What I want?” She repeats absently, staring down at me, clearly struggling to think while I'm positioned between her thighs. "I... yes. Maybe. I just don't know."

I take one of her hands in mine, intertwining our fingers, giving her something to hold onto as I lower my head and press a kiss to her bare mound, my tongue darting out to flick her clit before feeling her shudder.

"Yes you do.”

My shoulders block her attempts to slam her legs together, fighting against the release, the loss of control she knows is coming.

“You’re just afraid to admit it."

21

SIENNA

Iwake slowly, drifting up from the deepest sleep I've had in years. My body feels heavy, weightless, with a pleasant ache between my thighs the only reminder of last night.

Last night.

Heat floods my cheeks as fragments come back to me. The back of the car. Luca on his knees. His mouth, his hands, the way he wrung orgasm after orgasm from me until I was begging him to stop, until I couldn't form words, until I was nothing but sensation and surrender.

And then… what?

Forcing my brain to work harder than it wants to at this early hour, I try to recall what happened next. I remember him lifting me from the car when we arrived home, my legs too weak to carry me. Remember the solid warmth of his chest against my cheek as he carried me inside, up the stairs, and into this room. The soft press of his lips against my bare shoulder as he tucked the covers around me.

How he pushed my hands away when I reached for his belt.

"Go back to sleep," he'd murmured, and I'd been too far gone to argue.

Running my fingers along the luxurious fabric, I frown. The huge expanse of bed beside me is empty, the sheets cold. He didn't stay.

I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Stretching, I wince at the delicious soreness in muscles I'd forgotten I had, and reach for my phone on the nightstand before remembering I still don't have it. Now that Kate’s passing is public knowledge, I need to get it back.

Rebecca must be freaking out.

A knock at the door makes me jump.

"Ms. Fox?" Carmella says tentatively. "Mr. Calvano asked me to let you know you have a visitor."

“A visitor?” Now I’m awake. Sitting upright, I pull the sheet to my chin and push the wild tangle of hair back from my face. “And please, call me Sienna.”

“Maeve O'Sullivan. Kate's mother,” Carmella hisses, sounding even more surprised than me. And concerned.

Modesty forgotten, I lurch from the bed and yank open the door.

“What? No.” Any lingering warmth from the night before evaporates. “Here?”

Carmella nods, grimacing as she looks me up and down. “I suggest something with a collar,” she says, focusing on my neck. “And telling Mr. Calvano to shave.”

Goddamn it.