23. Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Three
Lorenzo
Donna’s office isn't very big.
It smells like her—a hint of coffee and a warmer, more subtle scent I cannot name but recognize completely.
Her desk is neat but lived-in, with a stack of invoices, a pen beside her keyboard, and a coffee mug bearing the faded logo of some long-closed bakery.
It is probably nothing like the Bureau office she left behind.
Nothing like the one I have back at Conti Enterprises.
This place is perfectly hers. Small, unassuming, and entirely hers.
And I am about to fuck her on her desk.
Donna’s hands are already on my chest, her fingers digging into my shirt as I kiss her. Her tongue meets mine, her body arching up into mine. She is kissing me like she has been thinking about this as much as I have.
Her lips part, and I deepen the kiss, swallowing her gasp as my hands move down her sides to her hips, pulling her out of the chair.
She comes willingly, her body molding to mine as I lift her onto the desk.
“Lorenzo,” she breathes against my mouth.
“That’s right,” I murmur, my hands already moving up her thighs toward the zipper of her jeans. “Say my name again.”
“Lorenzo,” she says again, a little louder this time as I unfasten the button on her jeans. Her hands tangle in my hair, her legs wrapping around my waist.
I drag my lips down her neck, nipping at her skin as I slide my hand into the front of her jeans and panties. She is already wet for me, her hips bucking against my hand as I find her clit and rub.
She moans, her head falling back.
I smile against her skin, then slip one finger inside her.
“Lorenzo,” she gasps.
“I love it when you say my name like that,” I growl, adding a second finger and curving them just so.
She cries out, her body tightening around my fingers. Her hands clutch my shoulders, her nails digging into my shirt.
I pump my fingers in and out of her, my movement restricted by her jeans but effective nonetheless. Her breathing grows ragged, her hips moving in time with my thrusts.
"More," she moans. "I need more."
She hooks the waist of her jeans and tries to wiggle them down.
I help her slide off the desk so she can pull them off, along with her panties. In one move, I yank her shirt over her head, removing her bra as well.
Before she can react in surprise, I have one perfect nipple in my mouth.
She arches back with a gasp, tangling her hands in my hair. Her breath hitches, a soft, needy sound.
Her response is immediate and raw. Her back bows, her nipple pebbling against my tongue. I suck harder, my free hand kneading her other breast, thumb circling the sensitive peak.
“Lorenzo,” she gasps, her hips grinding against me. “Please.”
I lift my head, my gaze meeting hers. Her eyes are wide, her cheeks flushed with arousal. Her hair is a mess, her lips swollen from my kisses.
She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
And I am going to make her mine.
I spin her around and press her against the desk. She lands on her hands, her ass in the air. I unfasten my belt and trousers and free my cock.
Then I am inside her.
I go slow, savoring the feeling of her body stretching to accommodate me. Her back arches, a long, low moan escaping her lips.
“More,” she begs.
I give her more. I pull out almost all the way, then thrust back in, hard and deep.
She cries out, her body trembling. Her inner walls clench around me, her body urging me on.
I set a punishing pace, my hips slapping against her ass with each thrust. The only sounds in the room are our harsh breaths, the slick sounds of our bodies moving together, and the desk groaning under our weight.
Donna is loud, uninhibited. She cries out my name with each thrust, her body moving with mine, her hands gripping the edge of the desk so tightly her knuckles are white.
“Lorenzo, I’m—” she gasps.
Her body goes taut, and then she is shuddering, her walls clamping down on me as she comes. Her cries fill the room in a sound of pure pleasure.
I resist the urge to follow her over the edge.
Instead of letting her go limp, I pull out of her quickly, making her gasp in shock. I spin her around and slide my hand into her hair, bringing her face close to mine, almost dragging her to her toes.
"Did I say you could come?" I growl, my grip on her hair tightening, my other hand gripping her ass, keeping her naked body pressed tightly against my dressed one.
I wait. I love her fire.
Her eyes narrow. A dangerous glint appears in them.
"I didn't hear you ask for permission to breathe," she says, her hands pushing against my chest.
She’s trying to push me away, but there's no real strength in it. It's a token protest, a final act of defiance before she surrenders completely. I know her. I know she wants this as much as I do.
I tighten my grip on her hair, forcing her to look at me.
"Don't push me, Donna," I warn, my voice low and rough with desire. "You won't win."
She shivers, her body reacting to my words, to the dominance in my tone.
"Want to bet?" she challenges, her eyes never leaving mine.
I lean down, my lips brushing against hers.
"I never bet on a losing hand," I whisper.
In one move, I pull my belt out with a snap. She flinches, her eyes widening in surprise.
Instead of trying to wrestle it around her wrists, I simply wrap it around her back and over her arms, trapping them against her sides.
I suspect it's only her curiosity and shocked arousal that give me enough time to cinch it under her breasts.
She looks down at the expensive leather circling her torso. It’s beautiful and completely obscene.
She tests the strength of it. Her arms are locked.
She looks up at me. And a slow, wicked smile spreads across her face.
"Is that the best you've got, Conti?" she purrs.
My cock twitches. The challenge in her eyes is a declaration of war, and I am more than ready to fight.
I smile, a slow, predatory curve of my lips.
"Careful, Donna," I warn her. "Or I might just have to punish you for that tone.”
A shiver runs through her, her body pressing closer to mine, a silent admission of exactly what she wants.
"Promises, promises," she whispers.
My grip on her belt tightens, pulling her even closer.
"You have no idea," I growl.
Then I do something that shocks her: I take a seat in her desk chair.
I use the belt to pull her toward me.
She's now standing between my spread thighs.
I run my hands up her body, her skin hot and flushed. I cup her breasts, my thumbs brushing against her nipples.
She bites her lip, a soft gasp escaping her.
"So beautiful," I murmur as I tease her nipples into hard peaks.
Her head falls back, a moan of pleasure escaping her lips.
I continue my exploration, my hands sliding down her stomach, my fingers tracing the line of her hips.
Her breath hitches as my fingers dip between her legs, teasing her entrance.
"So wet," I murmur. "Is all this for me?"
"Yes," she breathes, her body trembling. "All for you."
I smile, a slow, triumphant curve of my lips.
Then I thrust two fingers inside her.
She cries out, her body arching against me. Her inner walls clench around my fingers, her body urging me on.
I pump my fingers in and out of her, my thumb circling her clit. Her hips buck, her body grinding against my hand.
"Lorenzo," she gasps, her voice ragged.
I love the way she says my name.
I love the way she responds to my touch.
I love the way she surrenders to me.
I watch her face as I continue my assault on her pussy, thrusting my fingers in and out of her, my thumb rubbing her clit. Her eyes are closed, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed.
Just as she's about to come, I pull my fingers out of her.
She gasps, her eyes flying open.
"Since you like to come without permission," I say, "and then mouth off about it, I think you've earned yourself a lesson in patience."
"What the hell does that mean?" She glares at me, but the need in her eyes is obvious. So is the wetness coating her thighs.
"It means, my sweet Donatella," I say as I lean back in the chair, "get on your knees."
She narrows her eyes in defiance.
Where the other night, she was more than willing to suck my cock on her own terms, she is clearly less willing to do so when ordered.
I hold her gaze, my expression unreadable.
Then, I begin to slowly unbutton my shirt. Her eyes follow the movement, her breath catching in her throat.
I let the shirt fall open, revealing my chest and stomach.
Her gaze darkens.
I continue to watch her as I unbuckle my trousers and lower the zipper of my trousers even more, revealing the full length of my cock.
Her breathing grows ragged.
I begin to stroke myself, my eyes never leaving hers.
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips.
The defiance in her eyes wavers. A new kind of heat replaces it.
I could make this easy for her. I could turn this into a request or a mutual seduction.
But I don't want to make it easy for her. I want her to choose this. To choose me. To surrender to me not because she is weak, but because she is strong enough to yield.
"Get on your knees," I command.
Her eyes widen, a flicker of panic in them. She looks at my cock, then back at my face. The war in her eyes is a sight to behold.
I wait. I hold my breath. I hope.
Then, slowly, she sinks to her knees in front of me.
Triumph and happiness, sharp and potent, surge through me.
I lean forward and take her chin in my hand, forcing her to look at me.
I brush her lips with mine, a feather-light touch, a reward.
Then, I lean back in the chair and spread my legs wider.
"Open your mouth," I command.
She hesitates for a second, then does as I ask.
Using a firm grip on her hair, I guide her mouth down until my cock rests on her tongue.
Her eyes close, a sigh of pleasure escaping her.
I guide her movements, my hand in her hair controlling the pace. She takes me deeper, her tongue swirling around the head of my cock, her lips tightening around my shaft.
She is a fast learner.
She is a natural.
I watch her, my body tensing with each stroke of her tongue, each pull of her lips.
Her tongue swirls around my tip, a hesitant, experimental touch.
A groan escapes me.