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Her eyes widened and a visible tremble coursed through her body.
“What did they want?”
“To speak to you.”
“About what?”
“They wouldn’t tell me.”
“Oh. What did you tell them?”
“I told them I was your boyfriend.”
Gigi gaped at him. Her cheeks reddened.
“Why?”
“What was I supposed to tell them? That I was the murderer and I was extorting you? Or would you have preferred I told them we’d just had hot sex, even though you know I murdered a man, several men?”
“No.”
Ludovico laughed. A thought formed in his mind. He still had the upper hand.
“Yes. Now, my dear Gigi, you’ve gone from victim to accomplice. You have just fucked a murderer.”
She shook her head.
“And you enjoyed every second of it, if your screams were anything to go by.”
Her back slammed against the wall, and she crumbled to the floor.
“I don’t want any of this,” she muttered.
“And yet, you screamed out my name as your orgasms shook your body.” Ludovico approached her. He grasped his cock which was quickly becoming erect again. “You’d do it again,” he challenged her. “You’d suck me again, you’d fuck me again. Don’t deny it, Ragazza. You’d spread your legs for me anytime, anywhere. Even if none of this had happened, if we had just met in your office, you would have surrendered to me.”
She glanced up. Her chest heaved as she breathed heavily. Slowly, she came to her knees. Her mouth wrapped around his dick, and he groaned. Her doe-eyed gaze met his and a tremble coursed through him.
“You’re my slut, Ragazza, my troia.”
She moaned, the reverberations coursing across his cock to every nerve ending. Ludovico groaned. He wouldn’t last long this time around. Fisting his hand around her hair, he pumped into her mouth with reckless abandon. His gasps mingled with her strangled whimpers. His cock grew thick, and he erupted.
“Troia. Mine.”
“Yes.” She lowered her gaze. “I’m yours, Ludovico. Your bitch.”
Chapter Fourteen
Gigi closed her eyes. She wanted to deny the emotion coursing through her, to push it aside and forget it. She couldn’t. Hearing Ludovico calling her dirty names and proclaiming her as his made every inch of her fiber vibrate. He wasn’t wrong. Had they met in different circumstances she would have given in to him just the same. He was attractive, demanding, confident. Every inch of her vibrated when he was near. Speaking with him, she’d been able to see a side of him she believed he rarely showed. He was vulnerable. A man immersed in grief and putting up a strong front to survive. He never let go because if he did, he would lose himself. And now, she was involved with him. If only he wasn’t a mobster, a murderer. The police were after him. Them. They must have found something.
“What do I tell the police?”
Ludovico wrinkled his nose in distaste.
“If they call again, you’ll tell them we got into a fight, and you were running from me.”
“They’ll believe that?”
“Why wouldn’t they? We’re together now and we have the pictures.”
