“You fuck me so good, sweet Natalia,” he groans. “Take this cock like it was made for you.” He kneads my ass before loudly smacking it.
The office is consumed with our heavy breathing, moaning, and the sound of our bodies smacking together. Desire sparks through me, loving the noise, the feel, us.
I whimper when he suddenly pulls out, turns me around, and then pushes his cock back into me. I swivel my hips to grind into him. His hand lowers to my clit, and his thumb plays with it, massaging and then flicking it. I’m soaked, the evidence of that smearing against his desk, and if Cristian wasn’t fucking me so hard that I could hardly think, I’d be mortified.
I tilt my head to stare down at our connection, at his cock sliding in and out of me. He does the same, and pleasure burns on his face.
“Fuck yes, Natalia,” he hisses, biting into his bottom lip. “Spread your pussy juices onto my desk, so every time I walk in, I smell it.”
My eyes widen at his dirty mouth, and then he bends his neck forward to kiss me. He slides his tongue into my mouth and teases mine with it.
I love the taste of him.
Everything that is him.
The room feels like it’s on fire.
“Give it to me. Tell me how you like to be fucked,” he groans into my mouth while slamming into me harder.
“Don’t stop,” I beg. “I’m almost there.”
“Fuck me back until you come,” he growls. “Feed my cock that pussy until you’re falling apart underneath me, and then I’ll fill you with my cum.”
Those words set me off. My legs shake, my back arching, and I stop fucking him back because my body feels as if it were now made of jelly. Luckily, Cristian does the job for me. He holds me in place, thrusting, before his arms fall forward. His hands slam to each side of me on the desk, his chest brushing mine as we catch our breaths. His eyes are hooded as he stares down at me, captures a loose strand of my air, and then slides it off my sticky cheek.
The king and his sacrifice.
No, the king and his soon-to-be wife.
CHAPTER 26
CRISTIAN
I’ve never fucked a woman in my office before.
My office is my sacred space, my church, where I make hard decisions and clear my head. I could’ve dragged Natalia to our bedroom, but I wanted to see her spread open on my desk as I pleasured her. I wanted to commit the sight of fucking my future wife on that desk in my memory.
“You like her, don’t you?” Benny asks when I return to Seven Seconds.
This is where I’ve spent most of my day, but when I saw Natalia on our home security footage on my phone in that black bikini, I needed to touch her.
To take that bikini off.
And because I’m a responsible man, I told everyone we were taking a break. Unfortunately, since I trained my son to think like me, he knew exactly why I was running home for a quick errand.
I didn’t plan to come back, but Santos, our attorney and Celine’s husband, said it was urgent we meet with him.
I shove my phone into the pocket of my blazer. “Who?”
“Natalia.”
I ignore him.
“You do.”
I continue ignoring him.
“Of course”—he chuckles—“I won’t get an answer out of you.”
“Stop wasting both of our time trying then.”
My feelings toward Natalia are complicated. I’m picky with those I care about—genuinely care about. It’s a small list, but Natalia is squirming her way onto it.
We look up when Santos enters Benny’s office.
My son put more effort into his office here than I have. It’s his main office, so understandable. I’d describe my office at home as old money with its dark furnishings and rich wood paneling. Benita called my style as medieval and romantic when we built our home.
Benny’s office, on the other hand—which he refers to as modern—reminds me of a damn doctor’s office. The walls are alabaster white, the lights bright, three computer screens take up the entire space of his desk—so I don’t know how he gets shit done—and the furniture looks about as comfortable as sitting in a church pew while the priest preaches about murder after you killed three men the night before.
“I heard you’re engaged,” Santos says, smirking while drawing his shoulders back. “And that you’ve known the girl for quite a while.”
Fuckers must be growing balls if they want to make fucking your daughter’s best friend jokes. Santos had better watch out before I leave her e and fuck his mom for his smart mouth.
I pin my glare on him. “Change the subject and tell me what’s important before I have to call my sister and inform her it’s time to plan your funeral.”
Santos shakes off my threat. “It’s been brought to my attention that you have a rat in your inner circle.”
My blood turns hot.
Benny steps forward. “What the fuck does that mean?”
He shouldn’t ask that question because we know what it means. I grind my teeth. For years, I’ve done my best to keep a loyal family, and I can count the snakes in the grass I’ve had to kill on one hand.
Santos opens the folder in his hand and slaps a newspaper onto Benny’s desk. “Someone leaked the real blueprints of the club—ones that differ from the prints we submitted to the city. The room that isn’t on the blueprint? The New York Teller and people online have referred to it as a—and I quote—‘crazy torture room.’ ”
“Torture room?” Benny stifles a laugh. “It’s called an interrogation room.”
“Semantics,” Santos replies. “They know what you do in there.”
“Both of you idiots are wrong. It’s the supply closet, where we keep the cleaning supplies. The city must not have received the final blueprints. Call the New York Teller, demand they to retract their statement unless they want their business destroyed, and leak our prints online, which’ll make them look stupid.” I shrug. “Easy fix.”
Santos holds up a finger. “Moving on to problem two: they’re also accusing you of laundering money through the club. I haven’t received all the information on what they have—”
“If they even have anything,” I interrupt. This isn’t the first time we’ve had stories leaked about us that we’ve fixed with a simple phone call.
“This is serious.” Santos shakes his head. “Someone in your family is turning on you. You need to find out who.”
My stomach curls.
“I hate to ask this, Cristian,” Santos says, his tone turning lawyer-like. “I know the girl is Gigi’s friend, but she dated a Lombardi—”
“Then, don’t ask it,” I snap, taking a step toward Santos and staring him down.
The thought of Natalia leaking information and putting my family in harm’s way makes me want to destroy everything in my path.
Benny shakes his head. “Natalia never snitched on Vinny.”
“She told you everything about him, Cristian,” Santos points out.
I swipe the papers he placed on the desk, throw them onto the floor, and dig my foot against them. “You find out this source.”