Page 112 of Ruthless Redemption

“It’s true. You’ve won him over. So having him here is a great opportunity to ease his concerns.” I part her folds, her slickness coating my fingertips. “Tell him you’re okay,mia dea. Tell him he no longer has anything to worry about between us. That we’ve reconciled and all plans for our future will be made together. As one.”

She whimpers, staring Bishop down as I glide two fingers into her heat, the eroticism hidden from view beneath her tight jeans.

“I’m all right,” she pants.

He raises a brow.

“I don’t think he believes you.” I slide those fingers deeper, curling them in a slow rhythm as my other hand snakes under her blouse toward her breast.

He inches closer, right up to her, his expression tight, his gaze transfixed. “She isn’t very convincing.”

“I’m fine.” She cranes her neck to maintain eye contact, her head falling back to rest against my shoulder as I play with her.

“You’re more than fine, Layla.” He reaches out, cupping her jaw. “But my concern is for your wellbeing. Do you understand your life is at greater risk if Langston helps his brothers?”

She nods. “He has no choice.”

“Yes, he does. He could steer you toward a future with less danger. One that doesn’t include their bullshit.”

“I wouldn’t want that future. Not when he would be left to wonder what could’ve been. He deserves his family, if that’s what they really are.”

His thumb strokes her lower lip, his attention fiercely trekking the movement. “You don’t want them to suffer?”

“If what they’re saying is true, then they already have.” She slowly grinds into me, rocking her ass against my dick as she blinks up at him. “Or do you disagree?”

“I’m undecided.” His thumb delves into her mouth, her lips tightening around it, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks.

Jesus.

I could come just grinding against her.

“Lei è perfetta. Vero?”

He makes a noise. A grunt. Neither a confirmation nor denial of her perfection.

“Ora capisci la mia ossessione.” I curl my fingers faster inside her, rubbing the heel of my palm against her clit.

He drags his thumb back to her bottom lip, not taking his gaze off her as her breathing increases. “Sì.Sei un uomo fortunato.”

“Tell me what you’re saying.” She whimpers.

“We were merely discussing how fortunate I am.” I bite her neck, then suck to soothe the sting. “Chiudi la porta mentre esci.”

“And now?” she whispers.

I taste her skin, graze it with my teeth, my fingers twisting and pulsing inside her. “And now, he’s going to close the door on his way out.”

She shudders, rapturous and exquisite.

Bishop drags his thumb over her lower lip. Slow. Rough.

He’s hard for her. Hewantsher. And if she was interested in experiencing sex with more than one man, I would be happy for him to oblige. But today is about rekindling what we lost. It’s about strengthening her position at my side.

“Enjoy yourselves.” He steps back, his gaze lingering on her before he turns on his heel and strides for the hall.

Layla pants. Grinds. Her tempting pussy squeezes my fingers so fucking tight. And once the door closes behind him, she scrambles off me in a flourish, stumbling to her feet. She turns to me and climbs straight back onto my lap chest to chest, her cheeks and lips flushed.

Her hands cup my jaw. Her mouth smashes into mine.

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