The Enforcer (Untamed Hearts Book 3)(152)

But he didn’t; he tortured himself instead.

Touching her until she was right on the edge, and then stopping before she came so that Brianna was left quivering from the need, with a fine shine of sweat glimmering on her skin in the afternoon sunlight. She was getting angry too, just a little bit, but that was okay.

She was from Brooklyn.

He would’ve been disappointed if there wasn’t some bite to her.

“What the f*ck, Tino.” She moaned and gripped at his shoulder, digging her nails in to the point that it hurt when he stopped short of making her climax for the third time. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I don’t wanna hurt you. The wetter you are, the needier you are, the less it’ll—”

“Are you kidding me right now?” She dug her nails in deeper, breaking skin as she pushed her hips up against his stomach. “Just put it in. Lemme feel it. I don’t care if it hurts.”

“I care.”

“I hurt every day,” she reminded him. “Asshole. I like the hurt.”

She kept bitching him out, desperate in her desire, like not totally there and much more carnal than he expected from his good-girl dancer who always made him study when he was in school, and was disciplined about everything.

And that was doing it for Tino.

Big-time.

So much so he wished she’d stop, rein herself in, not go quite so nuts when he touched her for the fourth time, this time using two fingers because she was so greedy now, and he was scared to push her too close to the edge again.

He stopped way sooner this time, but Brianna still gasped, mouth open in disbelief, green eyes wide and furious, and he realized he might be f*cking up her first time because he sort of liked her angry. He knew the hurt was nothing to her.

Like she said, dancers hurt every day.

But this was seriously pissing her off.

When he smiled down at her, it was a f*cking miracle she didn’t slap him like she did that Miranda bitch.

“You’re teasing me?” She grabbed his face, like she couldn’t believe it. “You motherf*cker.”

He smiled wider; he couldn’t help it as he said, “I’ve been warning you. Run now before it’s too late, or I’m gonna be teasing you like this all the time. I like making you mad. I want you to get mad as hell.”

She rubbed her thumb over his lip, like she was trying to stop him from smiling, but he just licked the pad of her thumb instead, biting it softly before he went ahead and leaned down to bite what he really wanted. He caught one nipple with his teeth, making her choke back a scream and fist his hair, holding him to her.

When he went to finger her * again, Brianna caught his hand. “No, you don’t get to touch,” she decided for both of them. “Not like that. It’s not yours. It’s mine, and I don’t want you to touch if you’re just gonna tease me.”

“Fuck that. It is mine.” Tino suddenly got very Siciliano, like this long-dormant side of him rose up, and it shocked the hell out of him. “I’m gonna make it mine, Brianna.”

He broke his wrist out of her hold and touched her again, thrusting in two fingers hard, mean, making her cry out and shudder in a way that made it obvious she was right there. One hard stroke and she’d be done, coming all over his dick, squeezing it with that tight * that was clenching at his fingers so tightly they almost ached.

He pushed down his jeans without realizing it, taking his underwear with it until his cock was against the smooth skin on her thigh. He was close too, but he wanted to tease her again, just totally piss her off. He wanted her fighting, scratching mad when he took her.

Tino realized that was pretty f*cking Siciliano of him too.

Very Siciliano.

But Brianna wasn’t Siciliana; she didn’t play like she was supposed to. Instead she grabbed his hand again, holding his wrist tighter, because she really was strong.

Then she did something that genuinely shocked the shit out of him.

She sucked on Tino’s fingers before he could touch her again, his sticky fingers that were dripping with her desire.

She sucked on those motherf*ckers.

And gave him one harsh, emerald-eyed glare and said, “It’s mine.”

Tino’s breath caught.

He couldn’t breathe.

The lust just shattered him.

For one moment all he could do was watch. Then when it was either breathe or die, he sucked in a hard gasp of air and said, “Oh my f*cking God.”

Irish girls fought dirty.

Like really dirty, use-everything-at-their-disposal, cut-where-it-hurt, do-anything-to-win kind of dirty, and she did it like she knew it would do him in. Going on pure instinct, Brianna knew how to bring Tino to his knees, and it should’ve scared the hell out of him.

Instead he took her when she wrapped her legs around him, just buried himself to the hilt and drowned himself in her. Then she tightened her legs, hooking her feet at the ankles, and kept him there because the pleasure rush was obviously intense for her too. She was shaking, breathless, his fingers forgotten as she held his head in the curve of her neck.

She was so f*cking tight, so wet, clenching at him, and he had no idea it could feel this f*cking good. He licked her neck, making her turn her head to give him better access; then he was licking and biting until she was shifting under him like they were back in the bunk bed, using the friction to get off with him still buried deep, stretching her, and God, Tino wanted to come right there. Just grab her and pound her until they were both out of their f*cking minds with the pleasure.