“Emerson!” I shouted as I stormed through my front door, slamming it behind me, not caring that it made the walls shake. All the lights inside were lit up, and I could see her silhouette standing outside on the balcony, leaning against the brick edge with a glass of wine dangling from her fingers.

She turned her face to the side, acknowledging my presence, but I couldn’t see her eyes.

This fucking woman, I thought as I began to shuck my suit jacket, tossing it haphazardly across the back of the sofa while making my way toward her. My heart was in my throat, and all I wanted to do was get my damn hands on her.

What kind of woman walks into a police station by her own will and stands up for a fucking man like me? Knowing full well that the questions they had asked her could have incriminated her as an accessory to murder.

This damn woman.

The kind of woman who made me out to look like a fucking king in her eyes. The kind of woman who would stare a policeman in the face and tell him to go fuck himself. The kind of woman who would implicate herself before letting anything fall on the shoulders of her family—a family she’d only just learned she had.

There was a reason I hadn’t allowed Emerson to see what happened to Benny, or discussed it in detail of any sort with her, because if she was questioned it meant she couldn’t lie.

“Get out,” I ordered Samuele who was lying back casually on the sofa, his feet kicked up on my coffee table.

He snapped me a quick salute before hustling for the door.

I didn’t move another inch until I heard the door open and click shut closed behind me, knowing that the moment I reached Emerson, I wasn’t going to be held responsible for who saw what I was going to do with her body.

I forced my feet forward again, and as I got closer to her I took in the outline of her figure, the way her body had regained some of its strength and curves since she’d been managing to fuel it, and it would only grow stronger now she was dancing again.

Andre had filled me in on everything that had happened at the police station yesterday. I could see how impressed he was with how Emerson held herself, and how she didn’t let an intimidating man like Marcos push her around or make her feel inferior.

Fuck no! My woman stood her ground and let him know exactly what she thought of him and his opinions, and not only that, but she let everyone know exactly where she stood on the subject of having DePalma blood in her veins.

She’d drawn her line, and it was right where I wanted her.

With me.

“Hey,” she said, a hint of nerves in her tone as I stepped around the outdoor furniture and strode toward her. “How was—”

Taking the wine glass from her hand and tossing it into the corner of the patio, I couldn’t even find it in me to care as it shattered against the brick railing. Emerson gasped at the same moment I thrust my hand into her hair and drew her lips to mine. She twisted my shirt in her fingers, holding onto my body for dear life as I stole her breath away. My other hand drifted over the curve of her hip and snaked around her waist, pulling her body against mine. Her soft curves felt like heaven under my hands. The dress she had on so perfectly molded to her body it was almost not even there.

She pulled back, taking deep breaths while I licked my lips to savor the taste of her. “What was that for?” Emerson asked, her beautiful cheeks flushed.

“Marcos…” I said, her eyes flicking toward me. “I fucking hate him, have for a long time. You went in there and told him to go fuck himself, and not only that, but did what you could to protect me and the family, and not at one single point gave him any indication what had actually happened.”

Her mouth fell open. “Oh,” she said quietly before a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “I did good?”

A growl started low in my throat. I turned her body around, taking her hands and placing them against the brick wall that encased the outdoor patio. Pressing my body against her back, I nuzzled at her neck with my nose, inhaling her scent—sweet, fruity, and intoxicating.

She arched her back, pressing her tight round ass against my cock, which was now straining painfully against my suit pants. Her head fell back onto my shoulder as I moved my hips, pressing myself slowly against her, teasing her about what was to come.

Running my hand up her silky smooth legs, I tucked my fingers inside her panties and slowly edged them down her legs until they dropped to the floor. She tiptoed out of them, flicking them to the side. Her fingers gripped tightly to the brick, her short, sharp breaths changing in speed as I moved my hands over her body, letting me know which parts were more sensitive than others.

One of my arms went around her chest, my hand slipping inside the cup of her dress and sliding across her peaked nipple. She gasped, pressing her ass back even further.

With my other hand, I quickly flicked open my pants and let them drop to my feet, stepping out of one leg to give me more opportunity to move. Then I tugged her dress up around her waist. I stepped to the side, still holding her in place, just to admire the perfectly round globes of her ass which were begging for me to take my hand to them.

One ass slap and her body jerked forward, but I didn’t allow her to escape.

Another sharp slap and this time, a soft moan fell from her lips telling me everything I needed to know.

I pressed myself against her again, my cock slipping in between her two cheeks.

“Hurry up, damn it,” she cursed, looking over her shoulder at me with fire and lust in her eyes. “Please.”

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you,” I taunted, holding my body completely still.

“Hurry—”

“No, the second part.”

She paused for a moment, that defiant part of her wanting to tell me to leap off the side of this building rather than beg me to take control of her body.

She groaned, a shiver running down her spine as my breath tickled the back of her neck. “Please,” she relented finally, succumbing to my demands.

I pushed my cock down, and she spread her legs to accommodate me. Stroking it through her folds once, then twice, her body shuddered with each pass.

“One more time,” I told her with a soft chuckle.

“Please,” she hissed impatiently.

With that, I lined up and thrust straight inside her. It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t gentle, and I knew it would give her exactly what her body was screaming out for.

“Shit!” she cried out, throwing her head back as I settled inside her for a few seconds before pulling back out and repeating the process.

Her moans of pleasure were music to my ears as I pounded inside her, the rise and fall of her breath becoming harsher with every powerful thrust. She leaned forward, pressing her ass out and I unwrapped my arm from around her, gripping her hips with both hands.

“Angelo, more,” she moaned, pushing herself back onto my cock in a desperate search for her release. “More!”

I lifted my hand from her deliciously round ass, sliding it up her back, smirking as goosebumps appeared across her skin. At the nape of her neck, I threaded my fingers through the depths of her hair. When I had enough in my fist, I yanked it hard, as I plowed forward with my hips and she cried out in ecstasy.

“This what you wanted?” I growled through gritted teeth, holding back my own orgasm.

Her skin was flushed a delightful shade of pink.

I lifted my hand, enjoying the sting that came as I slapped it across her left cheek, causing her pussy to tighten.

She was so close, I could feel it.

I felt alive having a woman as strong as Emerson, ready to submit to me and give me her body. It heightened the excitement and need to bring her what she needed. Not every woman would. They didn’t all want a man to take complete control, but to me, that showed faith in me as a man.

Whether it be trusting me to make them feel pleasure so intense that they fear their heart might stop beating, or whether it be trusting me to protect them and keep them safe. I wanted a woman who was strong and independent in herself, but also smart enough to know I was fucking king.

The warm body in my hands began to shudder and Emerson’s back arched and shook as she rode out her orgasm, crying out my name in the midst of pleasure and satisfaction, while she desperately gripped the wall in front of her so she wouldn’t fall.

I released the grip I had on her hair, digging my fingers into her hips and using the tight spasms of her pussy to milk my cock until I roared out my own release.

The silent night air was filled with our breaths, both of our lungs screaming for air as we rode our wave to the shore.

I pulled her body back against mine, brushing my lips over her shoulder while my cock still twitched inside her. “Sorry, that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind on my way over here.”

A small giggle left her, and she turned her head, her lips searching for mine. I laid them on hers, a soft short kiss that in some ways meant more than a kiss that was more passionate and sexual. It was the kiss of lovers, and I found I didn’t really mind that.

“Sometimes hard and fast is better than long and drawn out,” she replied. “But I think you owe me some cuddle time now.”

I snorted, slipping my cock from inside her and causing her to gasp. She clenched her legs together and turned to glare at me over her shoulder. “Anyone ever tell you men like me don’t cuddle?” While it was only partially true, I bent and hooked my arm under her knees and lifted her up, cradling her bridal style against my body as I shuffled uncomfortably toward the outdoor sofa.

As I laid down, and she moved her body, laying right on top of me and placing her head against my chest. “I was joking, but I’ll take whatever I can get.” She chuckled, drawing with her fingers lazily across my chest.

I knew she was joking, but I felt like I owed her this much at least. I wanted to care for her, show her that she was a woman who a man wanted to cherish, and that I should be the one doing exactly that. Not just her body, but her mind, her soul, and her dreams.

I always thought that finding a woman who’d put me first before themselves, like Emerson had done at the police station, would be the hardest thing I would ever do. Yet, here she was, strong and independent, flourishing with this new found strength and atmosphere, looking Marcos in the eye today and not letting a single thing slip.

Even after he threatened her, and made it sound like the family would drop her in a second because she didn’t carry the DePalma name. She might not carry the name, but she carried the blood. That was becoming more and more obvious, and I was struggling to stay away.