Deepwood Weald you waiting at ho[m]e for me saying what time do you call this?

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Lotte was forthcoming with him and it was a skill that Arturo admired greatly. His smirk was terse and he wondered if she truly understood just how ungentlemanly he could be. If she would feel the same if she saw just how devoid of mercy the gangster could be. Thankfully he had yet to be pushed to that point in Teekon Wilds thus far but it was never far off. His thoughts were pulled back to their conversation as Lotte continued with her demands. The gangster offered his beloved a sweet smile as she told him that he was to put her to work and continued on with that it was more than his bed she wished to share. Oh, she was definitely a queen fit for a gangster; perhaps even bit of a gangster herself. Despite that Arturo was used to being the one to dole out demands he accepted her demands as her equal. “I’m sure we’ll think of something that will utilize all of your talents.” He didn’t mean it in a suggestive manner, but the low purl of his smoky timbre might have given that impression. The truth was: he intended to see how her characters could be utilized to advance Teaghlaigh, and as Lotte knew them the very best, he would seek her input and ideas.

“You sound like Chusi,” Arturo remarked fondly when Lotte made clear that she loved her freedom. Of course the difference was Lotte was a woman full grown and capable of taking care of herself. Arturo supposed that his daughter was, too, but he still saw her as the little girl he took under his wing. Which was a problem for Arturo when it came to his daughters: he did not want them to grow up as fast as he willed it of his boys. He was …working on that. His gaze followed her, his head moving to the sides as she moved in a tight circle around him. He was curious as to why Lotte brought up Furiosa but decided not to ask (perhaps he truly didn’t wish to know if he had competition in his red herring). “I will never regret my decision,” He protested briskly, earnestly. Of that, Lotte never had to worry. Lotte continued stating that she would not be contented to just be his wife, that she wanted children as well. Mini-me’s of them and perfect little mixtures of them. Dark babes with hellfire eyes and masked babes with moonbeam eyes. How Arturo wanted that as well. In that, he was glad that their desires meshed. “I will give you as many babes as you want. A litter every year until the day I die, if that is what you desire.” He already knew it was what he wanted: one litter and the gangster had realized that there was little loved more than being a father. There had been disappointment that this year had not bore him any children but though he’d had opportunities he was glad that he had held out for there was no one he wanted to bear him children more than Lotte.

His gaze had followed her as she rolled onto her back in the plush ferns, calling him from his thoughts of their future offspring to watch her wiggle among the greenery, enticing him. “Mmm, I recall,” He drew with a twitch of his lips and an amused glint in his fiery eyes as he stared down at her. Her inquiry of if they could repeat it (without the collusion this time, surely) but slower. He eyed her for a moment before he moved closer to her. “I think that’s manageable.” The gangster murmured, teasingly as his tail gave a flick against his hocks as he made to stand over her, bowing his head to drink in her scent and if she allowed it draw his muzzle against the plush fur of her bosom in an attempt to tease. ”Is this slow enough, Miss Ansbjørn?” Arturo inquired with the pretenses of a gentleman but the glint in the coy wolf’s eyes and the twitch of his lips was nothing short of devilish. “Or should I go slower yet?” He asked, prepared to recoil.

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