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"Yes," I grit, not hesitating. Loren gasps as I flip her over on her bed and yank off any remaining clothing separating me from her perfect ass, legs, and pussy. I stop to run a hand over her skin, then deliver a firm slap against her rear, and she gasps and bucks in my lap.
Three more times, I spank Loren, soothing each slap with gentle fingers and drinking in the sounds of her aroused gasps and squeals. She's clenching her legs together, and I can see how wet her pretty little pussy is. I flip her over again, lips finding hers, while I slide two fingers into her roughly.
Loren groans against my mouth and begins riding my hand, her own hands still twisted in my hair and occasionally roaming down my neck and shoulders. I tease her clit with my thumb, and she nearly arches off the bed, panting and writhing.
"Domenic," she whispers.
"Don't put yourself in danger again," I command her firmly, biting her lower lip and then nipping her earlobe as I whisper In her ear. “Understand me,il mio fiore di ciliegio?My cherry blossom doesn't get in cars with anyone who might hurt her. And you're not living here anymore. Tomorrow, you move in with me until you find somewhere else you like."
She squirms as I finger her harder, her grip tightening on my shoulders as she gasps and grinds against my hand. "God. No, I can't just—"
I stop touching her clit, and she scowls up at me, looking so goddamn adorable and flustered, desperate to get off. I grab her chin so she has to look up at me. "No. You're moving in with me because I can't fucking sleep knowing you might be in danger. Understand?"
"Domenic," she whines.
"Just agree, Loren," I murmur, kissing down her face and kneading her tits, my cock throbbing in my pants.
"You're still dressed."
"You're changing the subject."
She huffs, sexual frustration making her voice breathy and beautiful. "Damn it, you're supposed to be fucking me. Take your fucking clothes off NOW! Or just touch me—please?"
I'm not budging on this, and she seems to see it in my eyes because my gorgeous spitfire gives me a haughty look and tries to reach down to touch herself, desperate for her orgasm. I easily pin her hands over her head with one hand and begin slipping out of my suit coat and unbuttoning my shirt with the other, heat building in me at the delicious sight that Loren is sprawled out on her bed like this.
"God, you've touched yourself here thinking about me. About us, haven't you?" I whisper.
She bites her lips and nods, arching her back again. "A lot, recently."
I groan at that mental image and make quick work of the rest of my clothes until I can move between Loren's spread legs, cupping her face in my free hand to kiss her deeply again.
"You'll move in with me, and I'll make sure those motherfuckers don't lay a finger on you again," I murmur against her soft lips.
She falters, her beautiful eyes worried as she examines me. "I—I can't. I have to think about—"
"The daughter you mentioned," I finish for her, kissing her cheek and jaw.
Loren pushes me away as she pales. I'm not sure if it's fear of someone finding out about her child or fear of me specifically finding out, but she immediately begins shaking her head. "I…"
"Is that the only other person living here? There's a second bedroom," I point out in an effort to distract her from the moment of blatant panic I just saw her experience.
"M—my mom."
I nod. "They're welcome in my place, too. It'll be safer for all of you there."
Loren looks beyond wary. She's even closing her legs and beginning to sit up, and I can't have that. She still needs me, and I'm far from done with her. Better to brush over all of this, ease her mind, and then give us what we both want. We can discuss finer details later—I don't care if she has a whole horde of people living with her. I won't let that keep her in a place where she's not safe or comfortable.
Especially now that I know Loren has been singlehandedly trying to shoulder the debt that some deadbeat father left behind for his family to deal with. I make a mental note to look into that detail later and press her back down into the mattress with another heated kiss, trying to convey how bad I want her. How bad I always fucking want her.
She relaxes again, and soon we're back at it, tangled with one another until I finally slide past her warm, slick entrance with a low groan. Loren feels incredible, and I'm addicted to how her hands feel on my skin. She traces my tattoos while we moan together, my fingers pressing harder into her hips as I increase my thrusts.
She locks her legs around me and buries her face in my throat, whimpering my name. “P—più veloce,” she manages. "Per favore."
Faster. Please.
God, I love that she's made an attempt to learn my native language. I never stopped wanting Loren when I learned the truth about what she was doing in my casino three years ago. It was true that I was frustrated with her because I disliked hackers as a rule. But Loren was something else to me even then, and I had been far more frustrated by the idea that she might have been ungenuine with me that special night. She might have viewed me as little more than a lay with the casino owner's son at the time.
But I know how genuine she is now—how realweare. Everything about Loren calls to me. The fact that she's taken the time to learn tiny bits of Italian, even merely to tease me? It's more than any other woman I've spent any amount of time with has done.
