“Why don’t we just meet at the house?”
“You think I can wait that long after watching you bend over all night?” He walked off before I had the chance to say anything.
I carried all the bottles of olive oil to the pantry inside, and when I returned to the patio, the rest of the staff were pulling the tables and chairs apart to return them to their previous positions.
I headed downstairs and walked along the side of the house, sticking close so I wouldn’t be seen through the windows if anyone looked. I moved to the other side andapproached the cellar doors before I headed down the uneven stone steps to the next level.
One of the overhead lamps secured to the ceiling was on, so it wasn’t completely dark, and he stood waiting for me, a man too tall for the low underground space. The second I was within reach, he grabbed me hard and tugged me into him, pulling us into a heated embrace, every sound we made amplified against the stone around us.
It was cold down in that grave of stone, but he quickly warmed me with his muscular arms and chest. He kissed me harder than he ever had, broke our lips apart to kiss the side of my mouth and then my neck while he fisted my hair. “You think it was easy to sit there and look at you in this fucking dress all night?” He yanked up my dress and grabbed both of my cheeks with his big hand before he kissed me again, lifting me up and putting me on the table where I’d stitched one of his cuts. He grabbed my thong and yanked it down, lifting me slightly to get it off and tossed it on the floor. Then he took hold of my hips and tugged me to the edge of the table before he unfastened his belt and jeans with a single hand and shoved himself inside me. He released a loud, almost angry moan as he entered me. He gripped the back of my hair while he fucked me on the table, hard and fast like he hadn’t already fucked me a dozen times.
Then he suddenly lifted me from the table and pinned me against a stone wall and continued to thrust, his jeans dropping around his ankles as he held me there like I weighed nothing. His thrusts slowed as he looked at me, his big dick invading me over and over, conquering my body and making it his. His bedroom eyes were the same as the intense stare he gave me in a room full of crowded people. There was no privacy with him, because he seemed to want the world to know that I was the woman he was fucking every night.
His dark eyes were locked on mine as he thrust into me against the wall, moaning quietly as he enjoyed how slick I was. I’d never been this wet for any man before. My body was in a constant state of slickness, ready for him to walk through the door at any moment and take me.
“Baby, you’re so beautiful it drives me fucking crazy.” Then he started to thrust hard again, a piston in an engine, holding me up against the wall like he needed to fuck me before he lost his mind. “This pussy makes me fucking crazy.”
17
WOLFE
I drove down the dirt road that led to her villa on her father’s land. When I pulled up in front of her house, I didn’t have the chance to get out before she came down the stairs and hopped into the passenger seat.
It was a warm day, so she was in a white dress and jean jacket with gold hoops dangling in her ears.
Fucking fuckable.
Her dark hair was straight and shiny, and she already had expensive sunglasses on. She was in nude heeled wedges too, so her legs looked unbelievable. Everything about her was unbelievable, and sometimes I couldn’t believe that she was mine. That she put up with my chaos with such grace.
Before she put on her safety belt, she leaned over the console to kiss me. “Hey, babe.”
Ooh, loved it when she was all over me.
I kissed her then smirked, putting my hand on her thigh and sliding up her dress until I felt the soft fabric of her little thong. “You look really hot.” With one hand on the wheel, I backed up and took the dirt road back to the main street.
“You always say that.”
“Because I’m always thinking it, baby.” I gave her thigh a gentle tap as I pushed the pedal, and we took off down the road.
We were looking at houses today. The real estate agent was going to show us the ones that we’d liked online, and hopefully we’d find one we loved and I would make the offer. I’d been staying at her place a lot, so not wasting my time commuting, but it would be nice to have a place nearby. I wanted her to stay with me, have someone cook for her, be in my space so she would know me a little better.
We met with the real estate agent, and we checked out a couple properties, seeing them in person before we drove to the next one. We spent a few hours doing it, and then we arrived at the last property, driving through theopen iron gate onto a property with a roundabout fountain in the center.
It was the most expensive one, and right off the bat, I could tell it was my vibe. I wished we’d seen this one first.
I parked the Range Rover, and we got out to view it. A paved road wrapped around the house, probably leading to a garage that was somewhere else on the property. It was a three-story villa with lush gardens that had been maintained by a property manager even though the place was vacant. Lots of cypress trees and gardens and perfectly manicured lawns. Stone statues depicting ancient Roman philosophers stood among the trees, and that wasn’t really my style, but it actually worked on the property.
The real estate agent escorted us through the large, fifteen-foot-tall entry doors, ushering us into a fully furnished luxury home with a tiled floor, paintings on the walls, sculptures on the tables, high-end furnishings like wood panels and coffered ceilings.
It was eight thousand square feet with a chef’s kitchen and staff quarters in a set of buildings hidden from view by the landscaping to grant privacy and a place to do the laundry, cooking, and ironing off-site.
It had a pool and lots of land and pretty much anything I could ever need.
My hand remained at the small of her back as we toured the other floors, the primary suite, the extra bedrooms, the office and the gym…every amenity.
“So I know we’ve seen a lot of properties today,” the real estate agent said, a man in his fifties who seemed like he’d been selling real estate for a long time because he was able to answer every question I had, even knew everything about the different kinds of marble found throughout the home. “I’ll give you two a couple minutes to discuss. I’ll wait for you by the cars.” He smiled and let himself out the front doors.
I appreciated the fact that he didn’t try to sell me on anything. His office required proof of funds to tour these kinds of properties, so once he had that, he assumed I was a serious buyer who could buy any of these houses in cash.
