Chapter Fourteen
Leonardo
An almost eerie silence falls upon the room as Lorena glares at me, fuming. If looks could kill, I'd be six feet under. But I refuse to be swayed by her glare; instead, my focus remains locked on the damning messages displayed on her phone screen.
My blood boils with rage as I sift through the texts, confirming my suspicions—they've definitely had sex before. I’ve never been concerned about the men my flings have been with in the past, but something about Lorena being with other men makes me want to hunt each of them down and kill them.
I should have just minded my business. I should have continued my journey to the dining room where my lunch is currently waiting for me. But no, I couldn't resist the temptation to investigate what had caused that infuriating smile on Lorena's face.
After my associates left, I heaved a sigh of relief, grateful that the meeting had been successful. I hadn’t eaten anything the whole day, so I was hungry. As I walked towards the dining room, the aroma of whatever Lorena had prepared still lingered in the air. My stomach growled, but before I could make my way to the dining room, I spotted Lorena. My fists clenched on impulse as I drank in the smile on her face.
She looked absolutely stunning in just a t-shirt and pair of jeans that hugged her ass tightly. Since we’re on a trip, I gave her the liberty of not wearing a uniform. That was definitely a bad decision, a mistake I now painfully regret.
Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail, with a few strands escaping the ponytail to frame her face. Her cheeks were red when I spotted her, and that is the moment when I realized that she was biting her lip and reading something on her phone. She was so engrossed that she didn’t even realize I’d stepped into the kitchen and was standing behind her.
“This is the same person you were talking to that night,” I say, unable to hide the edge in my voice.
It's not a question; she knows exactly which night I'm referring to—the night I dreamt of her.
Lorena visibly swallows, as though she’s also aware of the dream I had of her, before she straightens her spine to pin me with a hard look.
“You know, it's pretty rude to snatch people's personal stuff like that,” she snaps, her tone sharp as glass.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Instead, I take a step closer, my gaze locked on hers.
“And what do you call this?” I ask, shaking the phone above her head. “You could be fired for this singular act. Using your phone on the job is a no-no, let alone for sexting.”
She visibly flushes, and for a moment, I'm torn between admiring how stunning she looks when flustered or finding more ways to provoke that reaction.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” she says, clearing her throat.
“Well, the cat's out of the bag now.” I ignore the way her words make me feel. I press on, “Why are you using such a shitty phone anyway?”
“Not that it is any of your concern, but I have a better one I use for my content. I just don't carry it everywhere for personal reasons,” she replies defensively.
“Or maybe you just can't afford an upgrade,” I suggest with a smirk, knowing it'll hit a nerve. It seems like someone doesn’t take kindly to being broke shamed.
Her reply is sharp, her eyes blazing.“And why should you care? Planning to buy me a new one?”
“Would it keep you from chatting up bums like this?” I shake the phone again, tempted to toss it against the wall just to see her reaction, but I decide to play it cool.
“I'll talk to whoever I damn well please,” she bares a set of white teeth in a plastic smile. “And don't bother offering. I wouldn't take a gift from you if you begged me.”
I can't help but smirk as she reaches for the phone. It’s humorous that she even attempted to do that. I’m taller than her by a reasonable number of inches, and also very much stronger.
In a deep drawl, I ask. “Who is he?”
“No one you need to know.”
“Ah, so you're keeping him a secret? Did he tell you to do that? Is he keeping you a secret too?” I taunt.
But my words don’t rile Lorena up. Instead, she just rolls her eyes.
“You don’t know the dynamics of our relationship, so keep your comments to yourself.”
I flex my jaw, trying very hard to contain my anger. I don’t want to lash out and do something stupid, like flip her over and fuck her against the counter. Instead, I settle on trying to push her buttons.
“Is he your fuck buddy? Your booty call? Your boyfriend?” I sneer, but she clenches her jaw, and I smile when I see that she’s angry again.
“It’s none of your business.”
“You’re right.”
Her eyes shoot up to look at me, probably shocked that I just agreed with her. Then they narrow into green slits, and I push down the amusement rising inside me.
“It doesn't concern me who this boy is or what your relationship is like,” I punctuate my next words by taking another step towards her. “But a real man wouldn't hide behind a burner phone to describe what he'd do to you.”
Her eyes flash angrily, but beneath those orbs, there’s something else burning as she clenches her fists, her fingernails digging into her palms.
“You don’t have the right to say such words to me,” she hisses, and I ignore the way I feel my blood rushing to my dick. “You may be my boss, but you don’t have the right to invade my privacy.”
Instead of backing away like she would have wanted, I walk closer to her until there’s only an inch between us. Her breath hitches, almost making me smile at how hard she tries to hide that she feels something brewing between us.
“You didn’t remember I was your boss last night when you were riding my fingers,” I whisper close to her ear.
I feel satisfied as goosebumps appear on her arms and neck. Unable to resist, I lean in and brush my nose along her neck. She makes a small noise and pushes against my chest with her hands.
Her face is as red as a tomato, and her expression is a mixture of anger and frustration. The anger fuels the fire raging in her eyes, but it also leaves her body trembling where our bodies are touching. She tries removing her hands, but I grab them, pressing her palms flat to my jacket.
She wants this, she wants me. My head spins, threatening to explode. The strong desire to claim her for myself takes over. Last night, I let lust dominate my common sense. Now, I try to fight it again, but its overwhelming power doesn’t relent. All I can think about is pulling her close so we can feel each other's skin, taste each other's kisses…
And I don’t even fucking kiss!
Grinding my molars together, I pull back and drop her hands. For one brief second, I consider walking away, but the sound of her soft exhale makes me eager to break her, make her beg, make her moan.
“That was just a moment of weakness,” she says breathlessly. “It won’t happen again.”
I hum before placing my hands on both sides of the counter behind her, caging her in.
“You’re right, it won’t happen again, because you can’t handle what I’ll give you. You are probably used to the vanilla sex that your little boy toy gives you. You have never experienced the real thing.”
My voice is a low rumble, and the shiver that rolls down her body is enough to make me ache. In her eyes, defiance sparks, challenging me silently.
But I won’t give in to her challenge. I want to hear her ask for it.
“Want to know what a real man would do?” I say slowly, my hot breath fanning across her neck and collarbones. I lean in so my lips brush against her pulse point, sending tingles down her spine. “He would fuck you so hard your walls shook and tears ran down your cheeks. He would go down on you until you came apart in his mouth. He would fuck you until your toes curled and you screamed for him to stop, until you begged him to stop,” I pause to nibble on her jaw as I add. “Until you beg me to stop.”
The shudder that wracks her body is not one she can hide. I can feel the heat radiating off her body as she subconsciously leans further into me. My eyes zoom in on her heaving chest, her breaths heavy, making her breasts rise and fall. My hand skim lightly down her side to cup her breast, and I squeeze gently.
“But you can’t take it, because you’ve never been with a real man,” I whisper, nipping her earlobe before pushing off her.
I start to leave when she whispers, “I can take it.”
My feet halt as my body turns automatically, looking back at her. The heat in her eyes has intensified, shining dangerously now.
“You talk so much…” she breathes out. “But what about you show me how real of a man you supposedly are?”
She swiftly pulls her apron over her head, making my breath hitched. The air around us grows thicker and heavier, and my mind goes blank as I watch, unblinkingly, as Lorena unbuckles her jeans and shimmies them down her legs. Her hands tremble slightly as she slips out of them, and I ball my hands into fists, willing myself to remain calm as I take her in.
My eyes follow every movement as she slowly lifts the hem of her shirt, revealing the taut skin of her stomach inch by inch until her bra comes into view. It is a matching set with her lace panties. I want to rip them off her. But I can only watch as Lorena tortures me by moving slowly and teasingly, pulling the t-shirt over her head until all that remains of her are her underwear—a black lacy thong and an equally black see-through bra. I suck in a quick breath as she stands before me, ready and eager.
Without a word, I march over, grab her hips, and lift her onto the counter. A growl escapes my lips as I hungrily bite and lick her neck, my hands grasping at the thin straps of her bra.
Her breathing grows heavier with each passing second as I rip the bra apart, flinging it across the kitchen. Lorena moans as I grab her breasts and squeeze them tightly, my fingers massaging them, kneading her nipples, making their tips harden instantly beneath my touch.
I groan as my dick twitches and throbs painfully. She arches into my touch as I slide my hands down to the waistband of her thong. Our eyes lock, and a rip sound echoes throughout the kitchen as I tear it away from her body. She gasps when the lace falls to her ankles, and my eyes take in the perfect mound glistening with wetness at her center, waiting for me to fill it.
If I do that, then she has won this little game of ours. Grabbing her ankles, I raise her legs, spread them apart and plant her feet on the sides of the island to support her weight.
Bending down between her spread thighs, I give her center a long, slow lick, and I know that out of all the meals she prepares, this is my favorite to eat.