DESIRED (BWWM)

Let's Talk

Elijah

"I want to talk, Elijah. Let's just talk." Renée says in a tiny voice.

Talk.

The only thing I don't want to do. Today has been a day sent from fücking hell and the last thing I want to do is talk.

Ion Schwartz, made his first mistake and one of his dickless men identified him.......after I removed his right ear, or was it his left?.....maybe it was a finger?

I plan on handling the German situation in the next week or so.

Everything was fine and dandy, freaking peachy even, until I got my baby's call. When I heard her voice tremble, I instantly thought about my secret.

But not this. 

I never thought it would be something like this.

I don't have a kid. I'm always careful, always. But if Renée wants to talk, I'll talk. When she cries I turn into a fücking pussy, putty in her hands.

And she knows the effect she has on me, she knows I'd do anything she wants. If she asked me to paint my face white and act like a fücking clown I would do it.

In a heartbeat.

"Fine, let's talk," I answer gruffly, lifting her up as I walk out the bathroom. She clings to me like a kitten and I sigh heavily.

The things I'd do for this girl.

Maybe Nick and my father were right when they say I'm whipped.

I place her on our bed before drying my skin and throwing on pants.  "Parlare," I say softly, joining her on the bed and pulling her body closer to mine.
(Translation: Talk)

"She said she met you on your yacht, let's start there,"

I nod my head, grabbing her thighs and forcing her to straddle me. If I'm going to do this, she needs to be as close as possible.

I feel myself getting hard and I jerk my hips up, pressing it to her warm center. Pleasure washes over her features and she bites her thumb, shaking her head with a determined look on her face.

"No, we need to talk,"
"Fine. We talk and then we fück," I say slowly, accentuating the last word with a punishing thrust. Her body shivers and I smirk at the effect I have on her.

"O--okay. Do you have a yacht?" She questions and I nod my head, bringing my lips to her neck and sucking on her delicious skin.

Lilies and peaches invading my nose.

"Yes baby, I have a yacht. But I only use it on my birthday,"

And to sink the occasional body at sea...... but she doesn't need that on her conscience.

"So its p-p-possible that she met you there?" She asks, hardly getting her sentence out as I lick my way down her neck. "Elijah! Focus," she demands.

I grip her hips tightly, frustrated by her defiance. I don't want to talk about this, talking is the last thing on my mind.

What I do want is he naked and withering beneath me.

"Yes its possible, I might have even fücked her," I say tersely, watching as hurt flashes across her face.

I'm an idiot.

"I don't even remember her face, Renée, she meant nothing. Just a quick fück,"

"So its possible for her to be your kid," she states. I breathe slowly through my nose, not wanting to make her more upset.