Similarly, how could he take the one thing away from Tallulah she had wanted out of this whole arrangement, when they parted? And what if he did not wish to cut ties entirely? Having her working for him would give him an excuse to see her again, should he wish.
‘Hold fire on that for now,’ he said, suddenly feeling almost sentimental about Westwick.
‘Are you sure?’ Carstairs looked astonished. ‘I don’t know how long the deal will be on the table, Mr Lorenti.’
‘I’m sure there will be other interested buyers if I decide I still wish to sell,’ he heard himself say before ending the call abruptly.
He could never live in the Hall, but Tallulah seemed devoted to the place and the people she worked with there. And surely, he owed her that much, for helping him secure ownership of the palazzo.
Although strangely, since he’d been here with her, he’d also become aware that the idyllic memories he had of Capri had always been overshadowed by other emotions he’d been careful to lock away since. As a boy he’d adored the freedom, but hadn’t he also been in constant fear that his mother’s dark moods would come back, that Mia would not have enough to eat? The staff had come and gone with alarming regularity because his mother squandered the money to pay their salaries on her endless pursuit of pleasure at all costs. And the house and its grounds had been in a deteriorating state long before her death, the wild parties often becoming scary when the adults were all either drunk or drugged up to their eyeballs.
His money had repaired the property, but Tallulah’s presence had added a layer of something more… Companionship, friendship, stability even, that he hadn’t realised he had yearned for then, until these past two weeks.
He blinked, the sentimental thoughts somehow lowering his guard.
Dio, when had he become so soft?
The light knock had him turning to find Tallulah standing on the threshold of his office. Something swift and sharp rushed through him.
Why was he so overjoyed to see her, when they had made love less than two hours ago?
‘Dario, I need to speak with you,’ she said.
He strode towards her and grasped her around the waist, deciding that fierce rush could only be the desire to have her again. To feed this damn addiction. She wore a simple summer dress, making it easy for him to lift the skirt and palm her lush flesh, even as he dragged her the rest of the way into the room and slammed the door closed with his foot.
‘How about we talk later?’ he said, sinking his hands into her panties to cup her naked bottom.
She gasped, but if she was shocked by the demand, the scent of her arousal that filled his senses told him her answer. He clasped her hand, strode to the desk, and pushed the laptop and papers to one side to lift her onto the surface…and inhaled the sultry scent which told him she wanted him with the same intensity.
He covered her mouth with his, to swallow her sob of surrender and found the hot flesh between her legs with insistent fingers. She moaned, lifting her arms to rope around his neck, while he worked the swollen erection free of his pants.
‘Yes?’ he asked, even though her eyes were already dazed with need.
She nodded, and he clasped her hips to thrust his straining cock into her, the penetration impossibly deep.
They rode the sharp, swift wave to completion in a matter of seconds, her orgasm massaging him to his own fierce release, their ragged breathing reverberating around the quiet room. The heady mix of need and desperation disturbed him as he felt his heartbeat start to slow and her hands shaking where she gripped his shoulders.
He buried his face in her hair, suddenly ashamed of the vicious hunger he hadn’t even attempted to control.
What was wrong with him? She wasn’t just a fire in his blood now—she had become someone he couldn’t seem to live without for more than a few hours at a time.
She shifted slightly, still impaled on the rigid length. He pulled free of her body and felt her flinch. The shame twisted in his gut like a blade.
He raised his gaze to hers, cradled her cheek to press a kiss to her temple.
‘I apologise, Tallulah, that lacked finesse,’ he managed, which had to be the understatement of the century. He had treated her as if he were a rutting bull.
Her face was flushed, her lips trembling, and yet the smile which crossed her face was unbearably sweet. ‘Don’t apologise, Dario. I—I love it when you need me like that.’
He stepped back to repair his clothing. How could she be so artless, so innocent and yet affect him so deeply?
She climbed off the desk and lifted her torn panties from the floor, before shoving them into the pocket of her dress.
Dio, had he ripped her underwear from her? How had this need become so wild, so elemental?
‘What did you wish to talk about?’ he asked, forcing his mind to engage again through the fog of pheromones and panic.
She stared at him blankly, her lust-blown pupils hazy with confusion.
