The Woman in the Trunk

"That's what I'm thinking," Lorenzo agreed, swooping low, tossing me over his shoulder, and taking me upstairs.Lorenzo - 1 MonthYou'd think it would get old.

Having a woman in your space all the time.

But it seemed like with each passing day, I was enjoying seeing her there more and more.

She usually snuck out of bed right before sunrise—a lifetime of habit from working at the bakery—and went downstairs, turned on the coffee, got something sweet started in the oven. By the time I noticed her familiar weight wasn't on my chest anymore, the house was already filling with scents of warm vanilla, oatmeal, chocolate, apples and cinnamon, whatever combination she was playing around with that day.

It was chocolate that day, I realized as I stepped down onto the main floor.

The work was already underway, a small group of men painting the walls in the dining room with Brio perched on the sideboard, legs kicking, cleaning under his nails with an unnecessarily large knife, being as intimidating as he could be without outwardly threatening any average civilians.

He gave me a head nod as I passed. "That woman, she's got it all, man. You gotta lock that shit down," he told me, shaking his head like it was absurd I hadn't put a ring on Giana's finger a month after officially starting to date.

What can you say? Brio was a character.

I made my way into the kitchen, finding Giana poring over a recipe book, her arms perched on the counter, her ass sticking outward in a pair of barely-there silk pajama shorts.

I didn't even pause to think about it, just walked up behind her, dragging her shorts and panties down, exposing her ass, my hand slipping between her thighs.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, body tensing. "We can't."

"This is our house. Sure we can," I told her, fingers plunging into her pussy, making her hips buck.

"There is a crew of men and Brio in the next room," she told me, trying to sound forceful, but her hips were already rocking against me, begging for more.

"Then I guess you are going to have to try to be quiet then," I told her, my free hand pulling out my cock as my fingers left her drenched pussy, slipping up to work her clit.

"Lorenzo we can't," she insisted as my cock slid up her cleft, pressing against her pussy for a short second before plunging inside.

"And yet we are," I told her, lazily thrusting into her, knowing that if I got too hard or too rough, she would have no control over her reaction. And as much as I was liking the idea of claiming my woman with my men only a couple rooms away, I didn't want anyone hearing what she sounded like when she was begging for my cock. That was just for me to hear. And I did. Frequently. So while I wasn't typically someone for sweet sex, that was what I was giving her this morning, pumping into her tight pussy slowly, taking every inch of her, then rolling my hips at the deepest point, feeling her walls tighten at the sensation, then withdrawing before doing it all over again.

I thought it would take her longer, but her legs were already starting to shake, her breathing was quick, ragged, her hands were curled into fists on the counter.

"Lorenzo, I can't..." she started, voice getting louder.

My hand clamped over her mouth as my hips thrust inward, jerking up, making the orgasm crash through her system, her walls spasming around my cock, milking my orgasm from me as well, leaving me half-folded over her, panting, trying to bring some reason back into my system.

We hadn't been great about the protection thing, I realized as I slowly pulled out of her, tucking myself away, reaching to pull her panties and shorts back into place, the smell of sex mingling with the chocolate in the room. It wasn't normal for me to not use a condom. In fact, I'd only ever fucked without one once before, when I'd been too young and too stupid to think about consequences. When Santi knocked up his high school girlfriend, though, I smartened up. Never fucked without one. I didn't want to settle down. And that was exactly what I would have to do if I got someone pregnant.

That said, if Giana happened to skip a cycle, if she came to me with a stick and uncertain eyes? Yeah, I would be good with that.

It was soon, sure.

But when you knew, you knew.

She was the one.

She was going to take my ring, take my name, take my future.

I was going to give her safety, give her stability, give her a home and a family and half a dozen babies with her sass and my eyes.

So it didn't matter if we weren't careful.