Let Me Love You
: Chapter 19

“Stuffy will be back soon. He’s just on vacation. Like Mommy is,” I said over FaceTime to Chiara, trying not to cry at the sight of my daughter on the small screen. I missed her so damn much.

Ten minutes after Thomas had met up with my parents at the halfway point between Charlotte and their small town of Waxhaw, they realized Stuffy had been left in the back seat of Thomas’s car. They’d called him, but the jerk had refused to turn around. He’d said he had a plane to catch and didn’t have time.

“That’s okay, baby girl. Nanna’s got some fun toys for you,” I went on, hoping to calm Chiara down as my mom held her inside her living room. “I love you so, so much.” I blew her an air kiss, which had her smiling, thank God, and she blew one back to me.

“Hon, can you take her while I have a word with our daughter?” my mom asked my dad, and he popped his head into view to wave, then took Chiara from her. No lecture from him, but I knew one was coming from Mom. “I just don’t understand what you’re doing at the Costas’ in New York.” Mom cut straight to it.

“I needed a vacation,” I said on a sigh.

I peered at the massive yacht with the Costa name scrolled on it, which sat regally in the water, as Mom said, “You didn’t even tell me you were getting on a plane. The fact I had to hear from Enzo’s mother that you’re at their house just screams something is wrong.”

At her words, I started to pace. Enzo’s mother must’ve redecorated his old bedroom, since it looked more like a guest room staged for a furniture store. A sailing theme to go with the bay.

“I assume Thomas doesn’t know you’re there? I’m surprised he didn’t grill us with questions when we picked up Chiara.”

“Yeah, well, Thomas can kiss my ass,” I snapped just as there was a knock at the door. Shit. “I have to go. Talk later.” I chucked the phone on the bed as the door opened.

“I’d prefer Thomas to go nowhere near your ass.” Enzo casually walked in, then shut and locked the door, barely giving me time to process he’d overheard what I’d said to my mom.

I dropped onto the bed and tugged at the soft fabric of my dress, feeling a draft, since I was without panties. The dress went to my knees when standing but only brushed my thighs whenever I sat. “I thought you’d be with your brothers.”

He sat next to me and rested his palm on my knee. “Yeah, but they can wait.” He looked at me, and I let go of a ragged breath. “Are you okay?”

“I think so?” My brows slanted, giving me away.

“You really aren’t a great actress.” His lips teased into a semismile before he shifted to the side a bit to better face me and walked his palm up my thigh like a slow, sensual caress. “Did you do as I asked?”

I swallowed, setting my hands on each side of me on the bed as my nipples pebbled at his unexpected touch. I barely managed a nod with his hand on me.

He shifted the fabric aside and traced the seam of my sex with his finger. “I don’t know if I can handle you being bare at the dinner table. There will be other men there, and maybe I wasn’t thinking straight when I asked you.” That deep, husky rasp as he thumbed the sensitive spot of my clit had my eyes falling shut, and I barely heard anything he’d said. The man knew how to relax me, that was for sure. I forgot all about my nerves.

I rested back on my forearms as he continued to softly stroke that bundle of nerves. “You should be with . . . your . . . brothers. Not worrying about me. I’m . . . fine.” Just breathless and panting with your hand and eyes on me.

“I told you earlier, I’ll always worry about you.” His other hand slid down the front of my dress, and he palmed my breast beneath the bra. “And you don’t really want me to stop, do you?”

“No.” My eyes flashed open at the loss of his touch.

“Good.” He stood and twirled a finger. “Center of the bed on your back this time,” he commanded while fixing the cuffs of his shirt as if about to go to a meeting, not get me off. Was he serious?

I stared up at him, unsure what to do. Give in to desire and let him relax me or demand he go to his brothers and do what he came to New York to do. Could he really afford to be distracted another time?

“I won’t ask again.” His voice was rough as he let go of his sleeve.

“And what will you do if I don’t behave?” Oh jeez, what was with my new obsession of playing with fire? Then again, I was single now, and there’d been months of hot back-and-forth between us. Sexual innuendos buried within our words. A bit of cat and mouse. Foreplay without the actual “play” up until recently.

“I’ll show you, sweetheart.” Without giving me a chance to follow his order, he hoisted me to my feet and tossed me over his shoulder.

My dress went up, and he spanked my ass with one hard smack while carrying me to the fancy chaise longue by the french doors.

He let me go only long enough so he could sit. Snatching my wrist, he pulled me onto his lap, and I found myself facedown, my side braid hanging in my face and my dress bunched at my waist with his hard cock near my center.

My nails bit into the suede fabric of the seat when he began to smooth his hand in small circles over the area he’d spanked.

And then his fingers slid inside me as his thumb pushed against my other hole, and I squirmed, but he held me firm in place.

“Relax, Tesoro.” But his dick was rock-solid, and I couldn’t help but rotate my pelvis, dry humping him like I was a decade younger and still a virgin.

“You’re touching me . . . there,” I whispered in embarrassment, but whatever he was doing, touching me from both angles was like sensory overload but in an amazing way.

“Mmmm. We have a list of yours to check off,” he reminded me, and he was right, I was pretty sure being “punished” was on the list.

And that husky tone of voice of his, as if he were being throttled by his own desire to fill me with his cock instead, was going to set me off.

“You need to come so you’re not so wound up when you go cook.”

Cook, right. Sure. That’s what I was thinking about right now with his hands touching me from both angles and my ass in the air on his lap, and I’d probably be wearing the mark of his handprint for a few hours. And I fucking loved it.

“What about you?” I clawed at the fabric as he brought me to the edge, drawing the breath from my lungs faster and faster with each stroke of his hand over my sensitive flesh.

“Later, I promise. I don’t think it’s a good idea to be this tense anymore. Because I’ll lose my mind in front of my family otherwise.”

At least he was finally coming to his—

My thoughts died as he managed to free the orgasm from somewhere deep inside me and had me coming hard, coating his fingers in my arousal.

I nearly sank my mouth into the fabric to try and bury my scream but instead accidentally bit the inside of my cheek as I came undone, my stomach muscles getting a great workout.

“Wow.” I think I panted the word as he helped me stand. I adjusted my dress, my face probably as red as that one spot on my ass. I was hot all over.

He smirked, then went into the connecting en suite and washed his hands as I slipped on the panties I’d grabbed from my luggage.

I looked over and found him in the doorway, leaning against it with folded arms. “Is this how you’ll be relieving my tension from now on?”

“I told you orgasms help you live longer.” He winked. “Want you living forever, bellissima.”

Wellll. “Ditto.” My gaze flirted with the bulge in his pants as he shoved away from the door. “So let me help you.” I went for my side braid and freed my now-dry hair, allowing the soft waves to fall over my shoulders.

He ate up the space between us and brushed the pad of his thumb along the line of my lips. “This mouth was made for fucking.”

My eyes fell between us, wondering if he’d finally let me taste him.

He held my cheeks before bowing his head to mine. “But not now. I need to tell my brothers what I just learned. My mother’s cousin confirmed Thomas was the one who hired those idiotas.”

“And you’re only just now telling me that?” I stepped back in surprise, and he released his hold on me.

“Thought it’d ruin the moment,” he answered, and yeah, he was right about that. Thomas losing his marbles and hiring some “third party” to attack Enzo was for sure a mood killer.

“I’m so sorry he did that.” I turned, feeling red all over again, but he snatched my wrist, drawing me back to him.

“Never apologize for that man.” His eyes thinned as he studied me, and there were more words he wanted to say, I could feel it, but he chose to keep them trapped behind his lips.

“So glad Chiara is away from him and with my parents.”

“I would’ve devised an extraction plan to get her if things hadn’t worked out the way they did.” There wasn’t any humor in his tone, and that actually made me feel better.

“Does this mean we can lose the extra security here?”

“We’re still not out of the woods, not with the cleaner out there and his clients more than likely knowing their names are at risk.” He admitted what I’d been worried he’d say.

“Then you should go to your brothers.” I nodded, noting the time on the wall clock. It was six, and surely he wanted to talk to his brothers before his father arrived for dinner.

He laced our fingers together. “Will you be okay?”

“Much better now.” I smiled, but he shook his head.

“You need to stop lying to me.” He tightened his hold of my hand.

“And you’re Mr. Honest, are you?” I challenged.

He let go of me and murmured, “Work in progress, remember?”