Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles Book 6)

My attention was all over the place during the next race, so even though I started in the front row right beside Adamo, I finished as tenth. Of course, Adamo had played a huge part in my bad result. He’d cut me viciously after the start, so I’d briefly lost control of my car and taken a detour over the bumpy shoulder of the road.

Not that I hadn’t done the same to other racers, but so far Adamo hadn’t showed me his ruthless side. I had to admit it only made me desire him more. I didn’t want to be coddled by anyone. That night after the race the following party was boisterous, and soon most people were drunk or passed out.

I’d only drunk a glass of the slightly less disgusting concoction with peach Schnaps someone had created. Adamo and I had kept an eye on each other all through the evening but hadn’t talked. Now that Dima wasn’t my shadow, many other racers came by to chat and many of them were more interesting than I’d given them credit for. As the crowd dwindled, I got restless. Something in me called to seek Adamo’s closeness but I resisted.

To my surprise, he sought me out when I was heading back to my car. “Already leaving?” he asked, close by, making me jump. I threw him a glance over my shoulder. “Nothing kept my attention.”

Adamo caught up with me. “Maybe I can. I bought a bottle of the best vodka I could find in the last liquor store we passed by. How about we share a drink?”

I stopped. After how our last encounter had ended for him, I was wary of his motives. Trust wasn’t something I handed out freely. Despite my distrust, I nodded and followed him toward his car, which was far away from most of the others. Dark and secluded.

We shared a drink in silence, leaning against the hood of his car, our shoulders brushing once more. With the music from the party in the background—for once a slower, melodic piece—this felt almost romantic.

“Are you pissed?” I asked eventually.

“Life’s too short to hold grudges.”

“That’s not a motto I live by.”

“I bet,” Adamo said. He straightened and moved in front of me, towering over my head.Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

I didn’t move, only peered up at him calmly. Slowly he leaned down. “You look as if you want to run. Are you scared of kissing me again?”

“I’m not scared of anything,” I muttered. “But I’d rather not have to kick you in the balls because you feel the need to avenge your hurt pride and forget what the word no means.”

Adamo braced one hand on the hood, bringing our faces so close together, the heat of his lips seared mine. “I’m fluent in the meaning of no, Dinara. Don’t worry. And my pride isn’t easily hurt. But tell me, are you saying no to a kiss?”

I should have. Last time, I’d lost myself completely in it, but having Adamo so close, especially his mouth, clouded my judgment. I bridged the distance between us, brushing my lips across his.

Adamo didn’t need another invitation. He tore the control over the kiss out of my hands and I let him, too delirious by every stroke of his tongue.

Sleeping with Adamo had never been part of the plan. Maybe if I’d known more about him, about his dark sides, which called loudly to me because they reflected the darkness deep within myself, I could have anticipated it would come to this. His grip on my neck tightened as he deepened our kiss. He tasted like sin and darkness, and he could kiss in a way I’d never considered possible. My body tingled from the simple friction of our lips, from the soft caress of his tongue and the taste of him. Soon the tingle turned into a pulsating need and my panties became damp. I was losing myself in Adamo again, losing control of my body. I snapped back to attention, forcing my mind into stark focus and submitting my body to its command. It had never been difficult. I’d practiced control for years, depended on it.

I reached for Adamo’s belt and unbuckled it, snatching my mouth away from Adamo’s dangerous lips. I reached for his cock that was trying to break through the fabric of his boxers, but he grabbed my hand and caught my lips in another kiss. “My turn. I have some trust issues when it comes to you and my cock.”

I couldn’t help but laugh against his mouth but then his hot, skilled tongue traced the seam of my lips before it dipped into my mouth once more. Adamo’s hand cupped my breast through my tank. Of course, I wasn’t wearing a bra. I was an A-cup so I rarely saw need to do so. Now I wished I had because like last time, Adamo began playing with my piercing, sending bolts of pleasure through my body. Adamo’s other hand popped open the button of my jean shorts before it slipped in, stroking over my slit. Like a clam snapping shut to protect itself, my mind did the same, removing myself from the touch. Adamo’s hand slid beneath my panties, touching skin, but I witnessed everything through a fog, barely registering the touch. I was in control of my mind and body, focusing on the tattoo on Adamo’s forearm, following its intricate lines broken by burn scars. The ugly and beautiful becoming one.

I did what I always did. I drifted off, went through the motions, moaned occasionally, then arched when I thought it was time for an orgasm because Adamo had stroked me for a while. I never had much patience to draw it out. I didn’t care if he thought I came too quickly.

Adamo’s brows snapped together as he looked into my eyes. Something in his expression shifted from passion to realization then anger.

Adamo slammed his palm down on the hood, snarling, “What the fuck was that?”

I jumped and narrowed my eyes, surprised by his outburst. “What are you talking about?”

“That was fucking fake. Every fucking moan, and that fucking orgasm too. You didn’t come, weren’t even close no matter how loud you moaned. When I first touched your pussy, it was dripping then it turned dry like the ground below us. I’m not an idiot, and I recognize a female orgasm.”

“So now you know if I had an orgasm? You might be a Falcone but you don’t know shit about my body.”

Heat rose into my cheeks at being caught but I wasn’t going to let Adamo put me in a corner. I didn’t owe him an orgasm.

Adamo looked livid. “Bullshit, Dinara. Don’t lie to me. I recognize a fucking orgasm and that wasn’t one,” he growled. “Why did you fake it?”

I glared, trying to slide off the hood, but he remained between my legs, his arms braced to either side of my thighs.

“Answer the fucking question.”

“I don’t owe you shit.”

“Is it because you think you can’t come with a guy?”

Had Dima talked shit about me? Probably something about me being frigid or something like that. Guilt shot through me. Dima wouldn’t badmouth me, and he definitely wouldn’t talk about sex with Adamo.

“Fuck off.”

Adamo got very close. “Or are you scared of losing control, Dinara?” I tensed because he hit the nail on the head. “You are,” he said quietly as if this revealed another piece of the puzzle. The big Dinara Mikhailov puzzle he so eagerly wanted to solve. I wondered what he’d think once he’d fitted the last piece in. I wasn’t a masterpiece anyone would show off in a frame. I was a messy thing people kept in the garage or basement.

“I’m not scared of anything,” I seethed. I’d lived too many fears to bow to them.

Adamo shook his head, seeing through me like no one ever had. He tilted his head, seeking more of that darkness I tried to bottle up. He wasn’t a stranger to horrors knowing his family history, but some things were beyond what people felt comfortable with. I worried that he’d realize I was one of those things.

This wasn’t part of the plan. He was a means to an end.

Get a grip!

I grasped his neck and kissed him harshly, wanting to shut him up and stop him from looking at me like that. It made me want things I couldn’t afford at the moment, maybe never.

Adamo ripped away from my mouth. He reached between us and slid two fingers along my slit. “I don’t want a fucking fake orgasm. I want the real deal and I’m going to earn it, and you will fucking lose control, Dinara.”

I’d never come with Dima, but he’d never mentioned it, even though I was almost sure he’d noticed. He wasn’t stupid either and knew me even better than Adamo. It wasn’t that I hadn’t enjoyed many of the things Dima and I had done, but I’d never allowed myself to let myself fall completely, to hand control over my body over to another person. Never again.

I met Adamo’s fierce gaze. For some reason, something in him compelled me to throw caution in the wind. “You can lose control with me,” he murmured. “You’re safe.”

I smiled wryly. You’re safe was something I’d been told before, but I wasn’t that girl anymore and Adamo wasn’t a demon from my past. Adamo hooked his hands in my pants and slid them down my legs with my panties, leaving me bare on the hood of the car. I wasn’t shy about my body or a prude who had trouble being naked around others. Naked trips to the sauna with family and friends weren’t uncommon in my family, and yet, I felt vulnerable as I sat before Adamo. His eyes slid down my body to my pussy. He was right. I was dry like the air around us. The wetness his kiss had conjured had been banished by my fears. I needed that kiss again, that taste of Adamo. I grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. His hand clamped around my neck then finally his mouth pressed against mine, his tongue reawakening my body. Soon a familiar pulsating filled my core. My mind screamed to stay in control and as if Adamo could sense it, he pulled back slightly, his lips still so close they brushed mine when he spoke.

“Stay with me,” he ordered, then softer. “Stay.” His dark eyes arrested me, held me in the present, no way to escape. He slipped two of his fingers into his mouth, wetting them before he pressed them lightly against my clit. They slid over my bundle of nerves easily with the extra wetness and soon tingles spread through me. He sucked my lower lip into his mouth when his fingers gently slid up and down my slit, scissoring me until every nerve ending in my pussy awakened.

My breathing came faster, my body becoming tenser. A knot was being tightened dangerously with every stroke from Adamo’s fingers and he was the only one who could release it. He controlled my body, every delicious sensation I experienced. He gathered the wetness between my folds and spread it over my clit, circling it. His breathing was coming faster now too. He never took his eyes off me as he drove me higher. The sensations became overwhelming, the knot ready to burst. “Yes,” Adamo rumbled, his eyes appearing black in the darkness, like they belonged to the devil I’d made a pact with.

He pushed two fingers into me and twisted them. I sucked in a sharp breath, on the edge of falling. My mind screamed for control, my body for release.

With every thrust he twisted his fingers, hitting a delicious point deep within me. My eyelashes fluttered, wanting to lower and sink even deeper into the sensation but I stayed rooted in the moment. His gaze held mine as he fucked me with deep precise strokes. A moan slipped out, not planned, not forced. It fell from my lips like a sigh of relief.

My inner walls began tingling like they’d never done before, began spasming and clenching around Adamo’s fingers. I couldn’t hold back. Digging my heels into Adamo’s ass, I arched back on the hood as pleasure took hold off me, ripping any shred of control from my body. I cried out, clawing at Adamo almost frantically. Adamo pumped his fingers faster, forcing out more moans and cries. I couldn’t stop shaking until finally Adamo’s fingers stopped. They remained inside of me, like Adamo had wedged himself into my mind, my body, every part of me.

Afterward, my body humming, my breathing raspy, I peered up at the night sky. None of the orgasms I’d given myself over the years had been anywhere as intense. Slowly my senses returned. Adamo hovered over me. “This was an orgasm, Dinara.”

I’d lost control. My chest constricted. I shoved him hard and he yielded, taking a step back. A bulge tented his pants. He brought his fingers, coated in my juices to his mouth and licked them clean with a wicked smile. My core clenched, wanting more, completely mesmerized by the sensations slowly dimming in my body. I hopped off the hood, pulled up my jean shorts and panties before I ran off toward my car. Inside of it, with the door closed, my heart began to slow.

Adamo still stood in front of the hood of his car. I’d left him with a hard cock once again. Only this time I didn’t feel like the winner of our game. I touched my panties, which were completely drenched then wrenched my hand away and reclined in the seat. “Fuck. Fuck you, Adamo.”

Whatever was happening between us could become dangerous, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away or rebuild old barriers. I wanted more of what Adamo had given me even if it scared me.

I wasn’t a coward, hadn’t been raised to be one and wouldn’t allow myself to become one, so I didn’t avoid Adamo like part of me wanted to do after my flight. Instead I sank down beside him on the log the next evening and held out an unopened cigarette pack to him. It was my peace offering. He accepted it. It took even more courage to hold his gaze because he gave me the feeling as if he could see even more in my eyes than the day before. Every day he unraveled another piece of me, and I was still chipping away uselessly at his barriers. We didn’t talk, only listened to the makeshift band a few racers had thrown together. One of the pit girls had an amazing voice, which filled the night with more warmth than the fire. It was long after midnight when most people had gone to sleep. “You have more of that vodka from yesterday in your car?” I heard myself say.

“I drank some of it out of frustration yesterday but there’s still enough left,” Adamo said in a low voice. We straightened and strode over to his car. People had started talking about us. Rumors made the rounds. We were a small circle, and gossip was impossible to suppress. I didn’t care. My reputation was my least concern. This wasn’t my home, and those weren’t friends or family.

Before Adamo could reach for the bottle, I sunk my fingers into his shirt and tugged him closer. He didn’t resist but he didn’t lower his head either. Instead he peered down at me. “Not done playing?”

“I’m not playing.” At least not the game he might suspect.

“Last time you left me standing there with a boner.”

“I did. But I won’t do it again.”

He leaned closer. “You sure about that? My palms are getting calloused from jerking off.”

I laughed but without warning Adamo’s kiss slammed me against the car. Passion exploded between us, wiping away any sense of caution. We tore at each other’s clothes. Adamo ripped the door open, already pulling down my jean shorts and with it my panties. I shook them off a moment before I pushed Adamo onto the backseat. I wanted, I needed to be in control. Adamo’s cock stood to attention as he rolled down a condom over it impatiently. I sank down on it and sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling of fullness. It had been more than a year since I’d been with Dima and that had been very different. Adamo’s fingers dug into my hips and I started moving my hips. My lips crashed down on his as I rode him. He thrust upward, driving himself even deeper, trying to make me relent control.

My nails dug deeper into his chest, a warning. Adamo gripped my ass cheeks then flipped us over. Falcones never relinquished control. He pushed me into the backseat with his much stronger body and slammed into me. Every thrust of him ripped away another sliver of control. With him on top of me like that, I had no way to win it back.

Losing control. Out of control.

My throat tightened immediately. I clenched and pleasure turned to pain. Adamo touched my cheek and my eyes cut to his. Concern swam in his dark eyes. He saw deeper than he was supposed to, saw things no one should. He wasn’t supposed to. “Don’t stop,” I bit out, not wanting to appear weak. I wasn’t breakable or vulnerable, I didn’t want him to treat me as such.

My lungs constricted. My body was stronger than my iron will.

Adamo rolled back over, taking me with him, so I was once again on top of him. After a moment to get a grip, I dug my nails into his chest and twisted my hip, driving his cock deeply into me. I bent down, kissing him fiercely, my eyes clenching shut against his inquisitive gaze. His palms cupped my breasts, and his fingers tugged at my piercing. I gasped, my eyes flying open.

“I love that piercing.”

My lips fell open when he flicked it again and my pussy clenched tightly around him. I was getting closer and closer, with no way to stop, and for once I didn’t try to grapple for control over my body. I let it loose even if it scared me.

Adamo’s hips drove upwards as I twisted my hips. I clutched his shoulders, my eyes ripping open as a wave of pleasure tore through me. I couldn’t stop it, could only submit to its force. I cried out, my belly constricting, my nipples hardening even more.

I almost blacked out when Adamo’s cock expanded under his own orgasm.

Overwhelmed, I fell forward. My face pressed against his chest as I drew in sharp breath after sharp breath. Adamo’s hand slid over my back gently. The caress felt good, gave my tumultuous insides an anchor. I allowed myself to enjoy his touch and our still intimate connection.

I could have stayed like this forever, listening to his racing heartbeat, but eventually I sat up. Adamo was still buried in me but he was slowly growing soft. I lifted off him and scrambled backwards and out of the car. Adamo didn’t try to stop me. He didn’t say anything at all, only removed the condom and knotted it. I fumbled for my clothes in the near dark and awkwardly put them on. They were dusty and stuck to my sweaty skin.

I looked at Adamo, and again part of me wanted to stay, to crawl back into his car and stretch out on the backseat beside him. I trusted that side of me even less than I trusted Adamo.

I wasn’t sure what to say. I’d never screwed someone I wasn’t dating, and I didn’t know how to handle Adamo, or my feelings. Eventually I just turned around to walk away.

Before I was out of earshot, Adamo said, “Good night, Dinara.”