I consider my cousin. Growing up, Nic was always far closer to Fabien than he was to me. “Whose side are you on?”
“Didn’t realize there were sides.”
“Bullshit,” I say impatiently.
He holds up his hands. “My loyalty is to the boss of this family; you know that.”
“And what have you learned of the D’Amico family’s situation?” I watch him over my coffee cup.
“Nothing that I didn’t already tell you. Michele loved his products a little too much.”
“What are Sienna’s plans, now that she’s no longer the madam?” I ask.
“I assume running the hotel.”
Why does everyone keep trying to make an ass out of me?
Chapter Thirty-Five
Remi
“Look at you. Taking my cock so well.” Angelo rolls his hips, causing my eyes to roll back into my head. I woke up this morning with my arms secured above my head with his belt.
Not maybe; I’m soooo into this.
“Faster,” I whimper. “I’m so close.”
Hetsks,stilling his movement. “Remi. Remi. What have I told you? I decide when you come.”
“Decide quickly. I’m stealing the mayor’s phone this morning,” I remind him.
“He wants what’s mine.” Angelo thrusts his hips hard enough that tears well in my eyes.
“Your family’s empire?” I moan, the now familiar pleasure tugging deep in my core.
“You.” He growls, thrusting harder. “He wants you. Do you know how homicidal that makes me?”
This time, he thrusts with enough force that it knocks my head into the headboard. “Oww.”
Grabbing me by the hips, he jerks my body down the bed. My arms being pulled taught over my head, Angelo begins fucking me relentlessly.
“I need the ability to walk,” I remind him on a moan.
“You’re right.” He slows his rhythm, circling his hips.
“Mmm, I like that, and before you ask, I like both.”
He chuckles, serenading me in Italian with each roll of his hips. They could be sweet words; they could be filthy words. Either way, my pussy begins to clench uncontrollably as I fall off the cliff. “Oh my God, Angelo, Yes!”
His movement falters, and on a groan, he empties himself inside me.
Angelo pulls out and unbinds me, pressing a gentle kiss to where the belt has left indentations on my wrists. I’m tucked into his arms, and I settle into the crook of his neck. The perfect place to be held hostage, actually.
“Don’t close your eyes. We need to get moving,” he tells me.
“You’re no fun.” I pout, forcing my satiated eyes open.
“I would agree with you, but then a little pick?—”