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It takes a moment for me to catch my breath and compose myself because, in all honesty, I don’t want it to end. He adjusts my blouse and brushes a finger through my wayward hair. “I was going to say that just because I do, doesn’t mean we should,” I tell him.
Lorenzo laughs, and for the second time since I’ve known him a smile reaches his eyes. “I think we both know it’s far too late for that, Bella.”
“You know this will never work,” I tell him, turning to look out the window as we approach The Larussio. “I write stories about men like you, families like yours, families like my own.”
He doesn’t appear to have heard a word I said and doesn’t respond. He pushes the button that opens the glass between us and Darryl. “Darryl, make sure you get enough clothes for Izzy to wear for a couple of weeks.”
He turns to me. “Anything else you would like him to pick up besides what you already mentioned?” he asks.
“I’m not planning to stay that long, and you don’t have a key.”
His eyebrows raise reminding me of who he is and that he no doubt has any number of people on the payroll who can break into my home at his request. “Two weeks,” he says to Darryl, taking my hand and assisting me from the car after it pulls to the curb and stops. He looks down at me as we approach the door. “Isabella, you work for me now, and some things were always meant to be.”
Chapter11
Lorenzo
The words spillfrom my lips before I have time to process them or filter one damn word. What the fuck am I thinking? Isabella may be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, witty and exciting, but I’ve gone my whole adult life without getting snared by the opposite sex, especially one who has tried on more than one occasion to get dirt on my family and spill it to the world.
Isabella’s lips are pursed as we enter The Larussio. As soon as we reach the private elevator and it closes, she pounces.
“Sure, attraction yes. I admit it. I’m attracted to you, okay? But sexual attraction and relationships, that’s a whole different story. Buying me clothes and giving me a place to live, each and every one of those things just…”
I close the distance between us in one stride, effectively staving off her arguments with a powerful kiss, sealing her lips and preventing every single one of her reasons for not being with me from being heard.
Maybe the reason I’m so attracted to Isabella is that she doesn’t need me. She is a successful woman in her own right and doesn’t need my position. She’s made one of her own in this world and clearly doesn’t want my material things or strive to have my power.
But she craves me just the way I crave her. Of that, there is no doubt.
Her body softens, and her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me closer, my body already pushed against her, my cock straining to get to her heat. I push her mass of curls from her face, and my mouth explores the creamy column of her neck as her nipples poke through my dress shirt.
Isabella moans and shivers in my arms as I grind against her, and that’s the sound I want her to make time and time again. I unclasp the pearl buttons of her blouse, then unclip the front of her bra, freeing her breasts. I take first one and then the other into my mouth, devouring her with my need, caught up in the sound of her panting beneath her breath.
The elevator doors open, but my hand stays wrapped under her hair, keeping her still for one more kiss before pulling her blouse closed. “Come with me, Bella.” I take her hand and lead her to the door of my penthouse before opening it for her.
She follows me inside, tentatively looking around. I close the door, toss my suit jacket on the couch, and put my arms around her from behind. “The things you worry about? They are of no importance, not really. The only thing that is important is what we feel, no?” I ask her, spinning her so I can see the emotion in her eyes.
Isabella doesn’t answer, the desire in her eyes mirroring that of my own. I place a hand on either side of her face and kiss her gently before kissing down her throat and peeling her blouse away from her body, along with her lacy little bra. My hands run over the curves of her hips. I lift her where she stands, her arms and legs naturally wrapping around me as though she were meant just for me.
I walk us to the bedroom and sit on the bed with her in my arms, kissing her. I explore the sensitive areas of her ears, neck, and nipples. My cock throbs with the need to get closer to her heat as she writhes against me. I turn, laying her on the bed so that I can continue to explore. Her little pants cause my blood to thrum as I make my way south. Her belly tightens as I kiss along its creaminess, heading to what I’m looking for below.
She cries out softly when my tongue strokes between her folds, her hips arching with desire. I hold her still, though, because I am in charge of her pleasure, not her. “Still, Bella, take what I give,” I tell her, stroking and caressing, teasing the sensitive flesh until she is writhing on the end of my tongue. I don’t let her come right away; she has not suffered far enough for the sleepless nights she’s caused me when all I could think about was her heat.
I watch her eyes from between her legs while her boots dig into my back. Her head lolls to one side and then another. She raises her hips again, and I smile. “Patience, Bella,” I whisper against her delicate flesh, taking what I want, teasing her unmercifully, letting her build and build until I know she is right there on the edge again. “Come for me, Bella,” I tell her.
She moans her release, and I suck her through wave after wave. I hold her hips and bury my face and tongue into the creamy center that is mine to claim, before flipping her over, because I’m far from done with Isabella.
Isabella settles on her knees, and her hips move seductively from side to side. She pushes back, just slightly, so subtle, but enough to let me know she wants everything that I plan to give.
I divest myself of my clothes, letting them fall to the floor and wrap myself before teasing her entrance with my cock. I don’t make her wait any longer than necessary, thrusting to the end of her in one move. She cries out as my cock hits that special spot deep inside. I do it again, and her head lowers with the pleasure, trying to keep from crying out this time. I do it again and again until she is screaming my name as we go over the edge together.
My arm wraps around her middle, cradling her as I lie down and take her with me, nestled into the protection of my arms. Her belly raises and lowers as her breathing begins to slow, syncing with my own as we lie together on my bed.
A place I’ve never brought anyone but her. The spare penthouse for guests, plenty since I’ve been in Vegas, the private rooms downstairs in the hottest sex club that’s hit Vegas since the underground opened ten years ago, yes. But never to my own penthouse, or my room, and most definitely not my bed.
But I’ve known she was different from the minute she didn’t swoon with coyness and bat her eyelashes at me like the others. Her cheek presses against my face, and my hand tangles in her wild mass of hair as it spills across my chest. “There’s no escaping now, Isabella,” I tell her.
Her blue orbs swirl with leftover desire and emotion. “I should want to run for the hills, but all I want is to curl up in your arms,” she whispers.
