Catching her, I placed her in my lap. ‘I wasn’t done talking, baby.’
‘Fine,’ she said with a hint of sass.
I curbed a grin. ‘I was going to say, if that’s what Stefano wants to believe, then let him.’
Her gaze snapped to my face. ‘What?’
I shrugged. ‘We have two weeks before the next race.’ I picked up her hand, pulled her pinky into my mouth and sucked on it. She gasped, her hips squirming in my lap. ‘Let him believe you’ve got me wrapped around this little finger.’ I sucked again, harder, and she moaned.
‘W-why would I go along with that?’ My long, steady look made her lips purse. ‘Right. More blackmail.’
‘Do you want them to find out you’re fucking me of your own free will instead of just sassing me every chance you get? That your pretty Mancinelli pussy is already addicted to my Salvatore cock?’
Her head fell forward, but I caught the war of guilt and mutiny on her face before she shook her head.
‘Good, then this keeps everyone in the dark and we carry on as we want, agreed?’ I might even keep the lid extra tight on rooting out our traitors if it buys me more time with Maddelena and keeps her out of her stupid uncle’s crosshairs.
She swallowed. ‘Agreed.’ She started to get up.
I banded one arm around her waist to keep her immobilised. ‘Stay. I have a treat for you. Don’t make me take it away.’
With a small flourish, I uncovered the last dish and placed it in front of her. Delighted when her mouth fell open.
‘Is that…?’
‘Your favourite apple tart from Le Gémir?Sì, bedda,’ I crooned in her ear, then flicked my tongue over the delicate spot beneath her lobe.
She shivered, whether at my confirmation that the tart indeed was from the exclusive French bakery in New York she ordered from twice a week, or in delight at my caress, I didn’t much care. Watching her face lose its distress made the ache in my chest – which was fucking alarming – dissipate.
‘Are you going to eat the thing, or simply eye-fuck it?’
She turned in my lap, a motion that had my dick straining with the need to burrow into her hot slit. ‘But… where? How?’ Her eyes widened in adorable wonder. ‘You didn’t have it flown from the States, did you?’
I smiled. ‘Not quite. They have a branch right here in Singapore. Besides, you should be lucky I didn’t. Having it flown over while you were trying to cancel on me would’ve made me big mad. And who knows what I would’ve done then, hmm? Because I know you still haven’t told me everything.’
She stiffened. Then wriggled some more.
I picked up the spoon and pressed it into her hand. ‘Hurry up and eat your dessert. Or I’m going to fuck you right here while you’re still gawking at the fucking tart.’
She took the spoon – with a glare – and dug into the dessert, took the first bite while I pushed her silky hair aside and dropped kisses along her vertebrae.
Her sweet moan made my cock surge against her ass. Made me regret I wasn’t deep inside her to feel the sweet percussion all over my dick.
‘You know whatgémirmeans, baby?’ I licked her third vertebrae, and she shuddered.
‘No.’ Her spoon trembled as she went for another helping.
‘It translates asmoan.’
‘Really?’
‘They know their audience, I guess.’
She twisted in my lap again and, yeah, I suspected the little minx was milking having me at her mercy.
Well, I was going to remedy that.
The fastening of her skirt was conveniently located at the back, and I made quick work of it, my breath strangling to nothing when I saw the blood-red thong dissecting her firm ass.
