Dubious (The Loan Shark Duet 1)
As she relaxes under my touch, her cries become different. The whimpers turn to moans. She mumbles my name and grinds her body down on my cock. I reward her by stopping the blows and reaching between her legs to cup her sex. She’s soaked. My cock rises against the constraint of my zipper in satisfaction. I didn’t plan on taking it here, but I can’t help myself. The fight has gone completely out of me. All that’s left is the gnawing lust. I pet her folds for a while, reveling in how they swell to my touch, before I rub my middle finger in circular movements over her clit. I like the vantage point I have on the view. When I bend my head, her pussy is so close I can smell her arousal. It drives me insane. Her beautiful female parts clench, and her lower body shakes. Her thighs and arms quiver as she screams out her orgasm. I let her have it and more. I carry on rubbing and pinching her clit until she begs me to stop, but I don’t let up until I’m certain she can’t take any more. Only then do I adjust her clothes, help her up, and pull her into my arms with her head cradled against my chest. While she’s sobbing it out, I caress her cheek, wiping the tears away as they fall. Every molecule in my body is aware of her. I’m intoxicated with the woman I hold in my arms, the woman I’ll eventually have to kill. It’s then that I acknowledge the truth. I’m not going to kill her. I was never going to. She’s meant to be mine.
When she stops crying, I dry her tears with my palms. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”
She blinks. She’s confused. Hell, so am I. Spanking her makes me hot. Holding her makes me forget why I spanked her in the first place. With her arms wrapped around my neck and her ass cushioning my dick, I can’t think straight. All I know, is that I can’t lose her.
“From now on, I want Quincy to train you with Bruno.”
She lifts her head to look at me.
“You’re not allowed outside if he’s loose, unless you give me a demonstration that proves you can handle him.”
“He won’t attack me.”
“He’s bitten a trespasser before. Fuck, Valentina.” I drag a hand through my hair. “Not even Magda risks it out unless he’s closed in the back.”
“Why do you keep a dog if he’s so dangerous, even to your own family?”
“Protection. People who want to break in badly enough will eventually find a way.”
“Bad people will also poison a dog.”
“He’s trained not to take food from anyone but Quincy.” I study her tear-streaked eyes. “What did you do to him? How did you get him to heel?”
“I removed a thorn from his paw.”
“That’s it?”
“It’s not hard at all. You just have to show him who has the authority. You can’t be frightened. Animals sense fear.”
It sounds a lot like me. No surprises there. I’m an animal, at best. I brush my lips over her hair, inhaling her sweet, raspberry scent. “Was my lesson clear enough for you, or will you need a repeat?”
“No,” she says quickly. “I get it.”
“Do you fear me?”
“Why? Do you sense it?”
“Yes,” I say gravely. I do, and I’ll encourage it, even if it’s only to use her fear like a leash, holding her close to me.
I lift her to her feet. “I’ll tell Quincy to set aside some time later today.”
She brushes her hair behind her ear.
“Do you need a moment?’
She gives a grateful nod. “Please.”
I give her the privacy she needs to gather herself. After arranging for dog training with Quincy, I distract myself by catching up on business, and then I access the financial records Anton emailed me. Valentina earned a salary from Rocky Street Veterinary Clinic. When she said she was an assistant, I assumed it was the secretarial type. That explains the white tunic the first night in Napoli’s. Debit orders went off from her account for water and electricity, which she stopped yesterday. Her credit card statements show the usual expenses for food and essentials. Other than that, Valentina isn’t a spender. Not that she had the means. There are no luxuries, nothing of the things women like, not even a tube of lipstick. Every month, she withdraws a substantial amount of cash, and it’s always the same amount, to the last cent.
I call my private banker and arrange for twenty grand to be transferred to her account. Next, I get the agent on the line and offer him a five grand commission to transfer the Berea property to my name. He’s happy to oblige. Firstly, he knows who I am. Secondly, he knows he’ll otherwise not get a cent for the flat. I arrange for the necessary transfer of ownership documents to be delivered. For Valentina’s sake, the sale must look authentic.