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“You don’t want faster,” he flips me onto my stomach, tucking my knees beneath me as he slides the length of himself back into me, “You want it deeper.”
“Fuck,” I cry out from the increased sensation of this position.
Renzo’s fingers dig painfully into my hips. His grip ready to relentlessly slam his cock into me, yet he continues to be tender with his thrusts.
My breathing intensifies as my hips rock needily to meet his thrusts. His hand reaches between my thighs and begins rubbing my clit, immediately sending me over the edge, causing my arms to collapse beneath me.
Holding tight to me tight, Renzo’s hips quiver against me as he empties himself inside of me, filling me with his cum.
Still fully seated inside of me, I feel Renzo tugging at the straps around my ankles. As he releases the second buckle, the bar falling to the hardwood floor with a clang. Renzo slowly pulls himself from inside of me, causing his cum to trickle down my thigh.
“I will never get tired of watching my cum drip from you,” he whispers against my neck, before climbing onto the bed and dragging my limp, exhausted body into his embrace.
Renzo’s lips pepper soft, wet kisses along the nape of my neck as he holds me against him.
“You are mine,” he whispers against my ear.
“Yours,” I exhale as I drift off to sleep.
ChapterForty-Nine
Lorenzo
This city has been flipped upside down since we took the penthouse last week. They dynamics between the families has shifted dramatically.
Sal negotiated a truce with the remaining members of the Armenians. Not being the type to allow disobedience, they took it upon themselves to rid themselves of anyone who turned on Levon. While what is left of their family is significantly smaller than a few days ago, what they have left is tight and loyal.
They have also been working in tandem with Carlo and Marco to track down Karyan. Carlo and Marco have been with each other nearly day and night since the penthouse, searching diligently for any hint of her. Leads have brought them close a few times, but she keeps managing to stay a few steps ahead of us. We are near certain that she still has someone on the inside feeding her details and keeping her advised of our moves.
Neither the Botticellis or remaining Gregorians have any intention of ending the search. She will always be a threat for Ava, and because of that I will not rest until I put her death with my own two hands.
The Yakuza, mainly Tanaka, have been reaching out relentlessly. The conversations are under the guise of a truce over hitting our estate or working together, but the reality is that he is trying to get to Ava. She has been clear that while he may be her blood, he is not her family. Her blood family died a long time ago, and we are her family now.
Things with the Yakuza are staying civil, at least for now. We are keeping a close eye on them. If they were bold enough to strike us at home once, we would never assume they would not make a move like that for her again.
Dmitriy has been significantly quieter in comparison, but due to his father’s declining health he has also quickly been stepping into the role as the head of his family. As someone who has slowly been learning those ropes for years, I know that his hands are currently quite full.
Things between us are good, actually more civil than they have been in years. He has not so subtly hinted a few times that he needs to speak with me about the future of our families and how we can work together.
Sal and I have been sitting on the couch, sipping bourbon, and discussing the recent changes happening around the city for the past few hours in his office. The sun set hours ago and the moonlight is now peeking through the curtains.
“Your sister and Dante should be arriving in a couple of hours,” Sal takes a large gulp of his drink, “I’m going to wait up for them.”
The area they were hiding out in was desolate, and it took days for us to manage to reach them after things settled down, and I know that he is quite anxious for his princess to return home.
“You on the other hand should go to bed,” he reaches for my glass.
“I’m not drunk,” I pull the glass away, “and I’m not a child with a bedtime.”
Snatching the glass from me, he retorts, “Maybe not, but you are fucking stupid.”
My mouth gapes slightly at his insult.
Standing from the couch, he sets both of our glasses on the table.
“You have a beautiful woman lying in your bed right now, and you’re sitting her drinking with an old man,” he cracks a smile, “now go to bed. I’ll wait up for your sister.”
I have never been one to disobey the Capo Dei Capi, and I figure now is not the time to start.
