Eleven

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She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

What was he doing here?

She remembered Francesca saying earlier that her son might join them, but he was always so busy with work she never knew if he would show up.

But Luca couldn't be her son.

He just couldn't, there was no wa-.

That's when it hit her, she never asked for Francesca's last name.

She never made the connection between them both being Italian.

Yes people can be Italian and not be related, but now she realised Luca definitely had some of his mother's features.

He had her smile.

He also had her jet black hair.

So what did Francesca's husband, Luca's father look like then?

Because she knew now she definitely needed to keep an eye out for him. Meeting the Romano family in awkward circumstances needed to stop.

She didn't know what to do.

She couldn't leave, he was stood in the doorway.

Trapping her

Stopping her.

She looked away from his eyes, she wasn't falling for that trap again.

But then again where else was she meant to look.

He was right there.

She scanned over his attire.

He looked good.

Too good.

His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his patch tattooed forearms.

The same arms which held her up when he was pounding into her infront of a mirror in a bar bathroom.

No! Stop it. She needed to stop thinking about that night.

His shirt was slightly unbuttoned, showing off his chest and gold chain, which dangled infront of her face when he fucked her senselessly.

No, stop it Kiana she thought.

She was just getting herself worked up.

She wasn't going to sleep with him.

She wasn't getting wet over him.

She looked further down when she saw his navy blue tailored trousers.

That's when she saw it.

His dick was straining against his trousers.

It was a literal third leg, hardened against his thigh as he shamelessly adjusted it.

Just for her.

That reaction was for her, all for her and she was still fully clothed

She grew wet at the sight. She couldn't help it. Not with her mouth practically salivating at the sight of his errection through his suit pants and the low grown he let out as he stood there, watching her.

Fuck, she was wet.

Very wet at the thought of him fucking her again.

He stalked his way towards her. No words were uttered. Pure lust evident in their eyes. He backed her into a corner, she was looking everywhere but him, she couldn't, she shouldn't.

His hand toyed with the hem of her dress.

He hesitated.

His mind was racing with thoughts of how he shouldn't, he couldn't. Her heartbeat picked up, her breaths quickened, her body needed him.

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