I smiled. “I think this is the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for me.” I turned and leaned up on my toes to kiss him. “Thank you.”
Lorenzo’s eyes burned into me for a moment. “Jonathan,” he said without looking away from me. “Would you mind giving me and Isabella a moment to talk?”
Jonathan’s eyes jumped between us, and he chuckled. “Sure thing, Mr. Vitali,” he said. “You just let me know when you’re…done, I guess.”
CHAPTER 18
Lorenzo
The door closed behind us, and Isabella dropped the shirt and bra that she had balled up in her hand. I thought that having another man see her topless would fill me with a jealous rage, but Jonathan hadn’t even glanced away from where he had been applying the stencil.
So, it wasn’t jealousy that boiled through me. It was possession. She was mine: her body would bear a tattoo thatIcommissioned for her. If I could have convinced him to work my name into the lines, I would have. I wanted the world to know that I owned this woman.
And from the look she was giving me, Isabella felt the same way.
“Are we really doing this here?” she breathed out.
I yanked her against me as an answer. Our mouths crashed together, and Isabella whined and clutched at my shirt as I licked into her mouth. “Tell me you’re wet for me,” I crooned as I dragged my mouth away from hers. My hand found one of her breasts; her nipple was hard against my palm. She archedso prettily into my touch, panting slightly. “Tell me,dolcezza,” I demanded.
She swallowed hard, trying to regain her breath. “Check for yourself.”
I nipped at her throat, using more teeth than I had in a while. “Brat,” I muttered.
“Do something about it,” she challenged.
I picked her up, fingers digging into the meat of her thighs, and deposited her on the tattoo chair. I stripped her pants and panties down her legs and dropped them beside her shirt already lying on the ground.
“Show it to me.”
She raised an eyebrow, and I put a hand on each of her knees, forcing her thighs apart. Isabella gasped and then wriggled under my gaze. I smirked, reaching out and sinking a finger into her pussy. We both heard the slick sound it made. “Soaked,” I taunted her, fucking that single finger into her again and again.
Isabella tried to move into the touch, but I pulled away. Her face twisted. “Please,” she murmured. “Please, Lorenzo.”
We didn’t have time for much more than a quickie…but I couldn’t bring myself to just get it over with. I wanted to be inside her, yes, but I wanted her begging for it. I wanted her to feel like I was the only thing she would ever need to make her feel complete.
When I pressed two fingers into her pussy, gave her just enough to feel the stretch, she whined out athank youthat went straight to my cock. “You like having any bit of me inside of you as youcan, huh?” I mused. “My fingers, my tongue, my cock. It doesn’t matter to you, does it?”
She threw her head back and forth. “I just wantyou,” she insisted.
“Any way you can have me,” I added, and she moaned. Something glittered in the light, and I realized that she still had the engagement ring on her finger.Fuck, it was hot. “Say it.”
Isabella cried out again. “Any way I can have you,” she parroted, voice breathy and pleading.
“You sound like a slut.”
“I’m not,” she babbled even as she tried her best to ride my hand. But still, I drew back, leaving her empty again. Tears gathered in her eyes. I wanted to see them slide down her cheeks.
“I think you are.”
Three fingers now, and Isabella cried out, begging me to fuck her harder. But I was content to keep my thrusts steady and slow, pulling away any time she tried to help things along for herself. “You’re teasing me,” she blubbered.
“I might be,” I agreed, getting high on the look of arousal and agony on her face. We hadn’t played like this in a long while. I had been keeping things gentle for her, to show her that I could love her slowly and carefully, but holding back had both of us shaky with a need that we hadn’t fulfilled. “You like when I tease you.”
“I don’t,” she said, stubborn as anything, even as I could feel her getting wetter under my touch.
“No?” I mused. I quickened my pace and filled the room with soft squelching sounds until she was writhing under my hands. “You’re making a mess,dolcezza,” I teased.
Her inner muscles tightened around my fingers; she was so close. “You know what I think, though?” I asked, sliding my fingers away from where she wanted them. She cried out in distress. “I think you like when I edge you even better.”