“We’re definitely going to be late.”
I smirk, still buried deep inside her, my cock twitching with the last aftershocks. “I don’t fucking care. This is exactly why Luciano shouldn’t have invited us.”
She laughs breathlessly, forehead dropping to my shoulder. “You’re such an ass.”
“Yeah, yeah. Love you too, Beda.” I press a slow kiss to the side of her neck, tasting salt, perfume, and sex.
I ease my hips back, sliding out of her with a wet, messy sound that makes her gasp softly. I catch her as her leg slips down from my hip, steadying her when her knees wobble.
“Come on,” I murmur, tugging her dress back down over her hips with one hand while I zip myself up with the other. “We need to change, and you need to grab your body wash.”
Her brows pull together as I start guiding her toward the staircase, my arm slung low around her waist. She’s still flushed and unsteady, one hand braced on the banisteras we climb.
“What?” she asks, glancing up at me.
“Your body wash,” I repeat, steering her up the steps. “Bring it.”
She stares at me, half-dazed, half-suspicious, her thighs pressing together like she can still feel me leaking out of her. “Why?”
“Because we’re not coming back here tonight.”
That stops her on the sixth step. I keep moving, gently tugging her along with me.
“Why not?”
I unbutton my cuffs as we reach the landing. “Because we’re staying at the penthouse. Luciano’s place is too far from the compound, and I don’t want to be driving around that late.”
She goes still, one hand still gripping the railing. “You have a penthouse?”
My mouth twitches. “Wehave a penthouse.”
Her eyes narrow dangerously. “Since when?”
“Since before you.”
She stares at me like I’ve grown a second head as she follows me down the hallway toward the bedroom. “You had a whole penthouse this entire time and kept me in the townhouse?”
“The townhouse is gorgeous,” I say flatly, pushing open the bedroom door and pulling her inside with me. “You have a fucking estate now. What are you complaining about?”
She crosses her arms, which would look a lot more intimidating if her hair wasn’t a complete mess from the wall. “What do you even use it for?”
“Mostly operations. Meetings. City business.” I shrug out of my ruined dress shirt and toss it toward the hamper.
She squints at me, following me deeper into the room. “Do you keep hostages there?”
I smirk. “Sometimes.”
Her mouth drops open a little. “Mistresses?”
My gaze cuts to hers immediately, sharp. “Never.”
Something softens in her expression for half a second before she covers it with attitude, planting her hands on her hips.
“Wow,” she mutters. “Good to know your hostage standards are higher than your girlfriend standards.”
I grin, stalking toward her as I loosen my belt. “Keep talking shit and I’ll find a better use for that mouth.”
She tries to look unimpressed, but the flush creeping back up her chest gives her away. “We’re already late, Maksim. We don’t have time for that.”
