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“I want to make love to you,” I say into his lips and feel him go still under me. “Will you let me?”
When I open my eyes, his steady gaze is fixated on me. “Yes.”
I smile and brush my fingers over his lips. Ilaria was right. He doesn’t deal well with feelings. It’s as though he’s unable to grasp the meanings of the various emotions and has trouble processing them. I move down his body until his cock is pressing against the wetness of my sex. Inch by inch, I take him inside me, reveling in the way he gradually fills me up. It’s large, his cock. Having all of him inside me feels as though my walls are going to burst. I love that.
When he’s fully in, I bend to place my lips at the center of his chest and move up to trail kisses along his neck until I reach his strong jaw. I’m rotating my hips methodically and continuously, but as delicately and as slowly as I can, just to keep him on the edge. When my mouth reaches his, I lift my hips up until only the tip of his cock remains inside. Salvatore regards me, his eyes glued to mine and his hands gripping my hips, but he doesn’t move. I smile, then slam down onto his cock and simultaneously bite his lip. He inhales sharply and places his left palm lightly against my cheek while his other hand wanders to where our bodies are joined.
“I’ve been wondering, cara,” he says and presses his thumb to my clit, making me moan.
“What?” I lean back and continue rotating my hips.
His fingers pinch my clit lightly, and I shudder but resist the need to move faster. Instead, I maintain the slow tempo, enjoying the way his hazy, lust-soaked eyes fixate on mine.
Salvatore’s hands move to my ass, and he squeezes, making me whimper. In the next heartbeat, he slams into me from below so hard I gasp.
“You’ve never been scared of me,” he says. “Why?”
I smile, as he continues to rock into me, his tempo building.
“Answer me, Milene.”
“I was too mad at you to be scared!”
“That”—he thrusts his cock into me again with such force I explode in an instant like fireworks and thunder—“is the most idiotic answer I’ve ever heard.”
Chapter 21
Arturo has been providing updates about our business dealings in narcotics for the past hour, but my mind has been wandering. Milene went to get a manicure with her friend and called less than an hour ago from the salon, yet I got restless a mere twenty minutes later. Even though she has four bodyguards there to protect her I still find it hard to concentrate.
My phone pings with an incoming message. It’s from a jeweler I placed a special request with two days ago, letting me know my order is ready to be picked up.
I somehow manage to sit through the entire meeting, then tell Arturo he’s free to go. The moment he’s out, I leave the office and go to my vehicle.
The store is nearby, so it takes me less than half an hour to get there and collect my purchase. When I get back into my car, I put the red velvet box on the dash in front of me. Just looking at it lessens my anxiety. I’m not sure how Milene will react when I tell her what it is. I might be pushing her toofar already. It still amazes me that she’s willing to deal with my shit. But still... that little box on the dashboard might be too much.
My eyes scan the clock on the dash. Two minutes after six. She should have called already. Anxiety rears its ugly head once again.
I squeeze the steering wheel, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. Another. And one more. If anything’s happened, Stefano would have informed me. She probably lost track of time. My phone rings. I open my eyes and grab the phone.
“Tore?”
“Yes?”
“You know that crystal vase in the hallway?” Milene says in a small voice. “How much was that thing worth?”
A couple of thousand. “Not much. Why?”
She sighs. “Thank God. When I came home, Kurt was chasing Riggs, and they kind of... broke it. I had to clean up the broken pieces, and some of them were very small, so please make sure you don’t go barefoot there. I’m not sure if I caught every last shard. Where are you? Should I wait for you to eat dinner?”
“I had some errands to run, but I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay, I’ll—Get down, you bastard!” The sound of something crashing travels down the line. “No, not the curtains! I have to go.”
I put the phone down next to the velvet box and start the car.
* * *
Walking into the penthouse, I stop at the threshold to take inthe chaos in the living room. Several unraveled rolls of toilet paper are strewn across the floor, with small bits littering the furniture. It looks like a tornado hit it. A large pot, which was home to a ficus, rests on its side in the corner of the room with soil scattered around its base. One end of the curtain pole hangs halfway to the floor, the satin drapes falling off it. There are also claw marks visible along its length.
