by Kate Stewart
“Fine . . . What am I doing here?” I asked defensively, taking my hands from his.
“This,” Daniello answered as the elevator door opened, “is where we will meet.”
“I’m confused,” I said as he entered a code on a pad next to a sleek metal door and opened it, ushering me in.
“Your circumstances for entertaining have changed,” he whispered into my ear, “and I am very fond of hearing your screams.”
My eyes closed at his confession, heat building throughout my abdomen. I noted the place wasn’t finished. The cabinets weren’t installed, and I doubted the plumbing was either. The space took up the entirety of the top floor of the building. A small spark of hope ran through me.
“Are you buying this place?”
“No,” he dismissed, his hands in his pockets.
“Daniello,” I blew out as I walked past him to explore the penthouse. It was expansive and modern chic with corner-to-corner views, an exposed open ceiling, and dark hardwood floors.
“It is a loan from a business partner. I helped with the design.”
There was no way to conceal my shock. “You design high rises?”
Daniello shrugged. “It is a—” his lips twitched as he searched for the word “—passion. In a different life, I would have trained for it.”
“It’s beautiful.” Fully impressed, I walked over to the floor to ceiling wall of windows and took in the bird’s eye view of the harbor that led out to open ocean. The sea was turbulent due to a coming storm that was evident by the massive wall of clouds that gathered in the distance. “This seems like a lot of trouble for such a short time. I mean, we could’ve gotten a hotel.” There was little to no activity on the water, and I found it fascinating. I could feel Daniello’s proximity by the energy wafting through the air, or maybe it was just wishful thinking that he would close the space between us. Lightning struck in the distance, and I saw the bolt so clearly. I jumped as another struck and then another. Afternoon lightning storms were common in Charleston, and though I had witnessed a few, I had never been so front row.
“Definitely a million-dollar view, there is no denying that.”
Another comment without a response had me turning to look back at Daniello, who stood watching me, his posture the same, his hands in his pockets. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and dangerous.
“What?”
“Would you say this view is suited for a king?” he asked, taking slow steps toward me. The room was quickly darkening with the cloud cover, and another series of lightning strikes had me on edge as I saw his face light with each of them.
“I would say that, yes.” I gave a nervous laugh. “Is that your big secret? Am I fucking the king of Egypt?”
“No.” He grinned wickedly as he reached me and shifted me, so I was again facing the window. “But what is fit for a king is also fit for a phoenix.” It took me only a moment to realize his logic and fight his grasp. He stopped my protest. “You may rule the world now, Taylor, but you limit yourself to live in a box fit for a shoe.”
“And that is my decision,” I hissed as he pulled off my suit jacket. Lightning struck close but the thunder never came, or at least I couldn’t hear it.
“And that is why you are here,” he insisted as he squeezed my ass painfully through my skirt. “You have come so far from your home, Taylor.”
“I am aware,” I whispered as he placed my hands on the glass above me then unzipped my skirt, letting it fall to the floor. I stepped out, keeping my hands where he put them as he reached around and stroked my neck with one hand while the other unbuttoned my blouse agonizingly slow. Lightning struck again, but I gave it little attention as I leaned back as much as possible against him. My blouse was moved to reveal my peaked chest, cupped by lace. I felt my wet heat coat my panties as Daniello whispered to me while he pulled the lace down just below my needy chest, so it held each breast up for his inspection.
“The next time I fuck you,” he lifted my hair and trailed his tongue across my neck to the opposite ear before finishing, “I will think of you like this.” He raised his thumb to my mouth, and I sucked it before he brought it to a straining nipple. He stroked across it slowly as I started to pant. Pulse kicking, breathing erratic, he took his time with his seduction. I obeyed without command, my hands still planted against the glass. The storm arrived along with a downpour of rain. Ribbons of water slid past my firmly planted hands as Daniello moved underneath the tails of my blouse, around the edge of my panties, playing with the lacy elastic.
“Please,” I begged on edge.
His tongue continued to trace the back of my neck. I remained at his mercy with another plea on my tongue when his hand finally slid down the front of my panties. He sank his teeth into the sweet spot between my neck and shoulder. I moaned out my relief as his thick finger stroked my clit.
“Ah, that is what I needed to hear before I make my way home.” He quickened his strokes stifling the throb of my needy clit but leaving the ache inside of me. I moved to touch his rock-hard cock poking me in the back and was rewarded with a harsh, “No.”
“I want you,” I said breathlessly as he moved his digits faster over my clit, his free hand molding my breast.
“I know you do, and you will have me when I want you to.” I braced myself as my orgasm built but not before I asked him again.
“Not this way, please. I want your cock, Daniello. I want all of you.”
“And I will have all of you,” he declared, running his thick bulge over the top of my ass. I split apart at his coaxing, and he turned my head and kissed me deeply while I shuddered. No longer able to hold myself up, I cradled his neck, keeping him there. He continued his tongue exploration for several minutes, even after my body stopped convulsing.
He was so thorough in his quest to sate me, and yet he hadn’t given me what I truly wanted. I moaned as I reached a second peak and had to mentally bite my tongue to keep from begging again. This was another game, a way to conquer me, keep me hungry. Fuck if he hadn’t won, but I did little to let him know. Yet, he knew. He was strangely intuitive when it came to me, like we’d been lovers for years and he could anticipate my every need without words.
He kept his fingers running over my sex as a fresh orgasm leaked from me. The act alone seemed to please him as his cock pulsed against my back.
“Let me taste you,” I requested as he pulled away from our kiss.
“No,” he barked before he lifted my bra into place and began buttoning my blouse at the same slow pace. When he’d dressed me in the exact same way he’d disrobed me, he stood behind me for a moment longer, staring into the cloud we were surrounded by, watching the water drip down the large windows.
“It is a pity that you do not feel yourself worthy of a view like this Taylor Ellison.”
“I never said I wasn’t worthy,” I corrected with absolutely no fight in me. “This is too much for just me.”
“Ah, but you are so much woman,” he teased as he gripped my hair roughly and brought his mouth to mine one last time. “Come, let us go. I have a plane.”
“Going home? Italy home?” I asked gathering my wits and taking one last look around. I could see the potential and for a moment entertained the idea of what it would be like to live there. I had grown accustomed to working in a high rise, but living in one had never crossed my mind. I studied Daniello’s profile as he closed the door and handed me the key card for the elevator with the house code written in bold on the back.
I studied Daniello as we took the short walk back to the elevator. “Why would you look for a place for me to live?”
“Why do you question everything?”
“Why do you not answer any of them?”
“You know why,” he said sternly as the doors closed.
I hid my smile, knowing I was getting under his skin. “We may not have anything in common, Daniello, but our path is the same. We will both be eighty and will have only lived to work.”
“I had
a wife once,” Daniello admitted, surprising me. “I was young. She was beautiful.” I stood, waiting for more, and when he remained silent, I pressed on.
“What happened?”
“She belongs to another now.”
“Why?”
Daniello stared at the floor between us while he spoke.
“I wanted to make a fortune, and she wanted to make a family. I left her. She found a man to give her a family. She is very happy.” Something about his tone and the distance in his stare told me there was more to that story.
“And are you happy with your fortune?” I asked as the elevator stopped. Daniello took a step forward, blocking the door, and they closed again, leaving us face to face.
“I got exactly what I asked for.”
“That’s not an answer,” I said, growing weary of the circles he had me spinning in.
“I am a rich man with no family. I got what I asked for.”
“Good for you,” I said, motioning with my hand for him to let us exit. He ignored me, his eyes penetrating and inquisitive.
“You do not think I made the right choice?”
“It’s not my concern.” He smirked and pushed the button, so the doors once again opened.
Rocco was leaning against the SUV, speaking his usual, angry Arabic into his cell phone. I took in his appearance. Rocco was an attractive man, but his demeanor made me incapable of nothing but distaste for him. His dark hair was cropped short, and his build was much smaller than Daniello’s, though he was just as sharply dressed. He eyed us both, finished his call, and climbed into the driver’s side as Daniello opened the door for us.
“You fault me for not being open to you, but you have not once revealed anything to me.”
I shrugged. “You know enough about me.”
“I know what I have observed.”
“I have never been married.” I crossed my arms defensively, and he reached for me across from him and pulled me to sit beside him. I let out a harsh breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“You do not like to answer questions as I do not.”
“Agreed.” I didn’t know where the sudden contempt for him came from. I had agreed to keep our relationship sexual. Suddenly, the need to know every detail of who he was ate at me, but I couldn’t deny, as intrigued as I was, he was right. I didn’t want to reveal more details of my life to him or anyone else, for that matter—something else we had in common. I wanted to know if he felt guilty for leaving his young and beautiful wife. If it ate at him the way I had abandoned Amber ate at me. I wanted to know so much, and as the SUV pulled to a stop, I was frustrated that, once again, our time was up, and I had no more room to maneuver any information from him.
Daniello looked down at me as I hesitated briefly before positioning myself for the open door. He stilled my movement, pressed his lips to mine, and opened my mouth with the slow taste of his tongue. I clung to him as his kiss ignited me, his movements slow, deliberate. Daniello brushed my hair away from my cheek with his thumb as he pulled me closer, his hands circling my neck, his gentle fingers caressing me. Dazed and ready to bend to his will, he pulled away and took his hands with him. “That is how you tell a lover goodbye. I will return.”
Instead of giving him my usual sarcastic bite, I simply nodded and exited the SUV without looking back. Because if I did, I was afraid he would see what I was terrified to show him. Biting the inside of my cheek, I forced one foot in front of the other, passing reception without a word. I was still holding my breath when I held a hand up to Ross to keep her from interrupting my retreat. Alone inside my office, I stood with my back to the door and buried my head in my hands. I was bred by my mentor to be ‘in the know’ of all situations I walked into, without a chance to be blindsided. With Daniello, I was at risk.
Silver-blue eyes I could never erase from my memory trickled into the forefront of my thoughts. “Ray,” I said his name aloud for the first time in years in silent prayer and remembered the night everything between us changed.
“Fork etiquette, attire, and you have even sharpened your verbiage. Not bad, Taylor.”
“I don’t want to look like a foo—I have no intention of looking foolish.”
Ray grinned at me as if I was his favorite new toy. I’d been at his house three weeks, and though he’d held up his end of the bargain, enrolling me in prep school the following day, he hadn’t laid a hand on me. I was beginning to wonder if I’d imagined his proposition. I rarely saw him aside from dinner; even then, he was quick to dismiss my company for a phone call.
In a way, I felt like a stray dog he had picked up from a pound and was now being taught to adhere to my new master. Oddly, I did not feel free. I felt more captive than ever. My life had changed so dramatically, and I had no time to process. I was up at 5:00 a.m. and given an hour to exercise. Ray, of course, conveniently had a gym room, so the new routine was easy. I’d spent years walking long miles on dirt roads, so I had no issue working up a healthy sweat on the treadmill before conquering the rest of the room’s equipment and its benefits. I was fed breakfast by a quiet wait staff at 6:30 a.m. and at 7:00 a.m. I met my first tutor. Because Ray insisted linguistics was my biggest issue to tackle, he had the tutor work with me for three days before unleashing me on the population of Mason Prep. Dropped at school no less than half an hour early, I was expected to be outside immediately after and transported home for my four o’clock tutor. Grasping the workload had turned out to be far less challenging than I’d expected. My tutors had repeatedly commented that I was a sponge and would require very little remedial help. I was, of course, far less advanced than my peers due to the Dyer curriculum, but with each day that passed, my confidence began to soar. I didn’t need another to conclude I would be able to handle Mason, and I would graduate with honors as part of their elitist group.
And even if it were the false confidence of an eighteen-year-old girl, I would make it a reality.
“You look tired,” Ray quipped, jolting me out of my stupor. He took a long drink of his bourbon.
I had been toying with the same forkful of food for several minutes, and it hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“I’m fine,” I answered, setting it down with defeat.
“You’re tired,” he assured me. He sat to my right at the head of the table in his formal dining room. Though I had taken the seat on the far side the first night, assuming he’d preferred it, he kept us at the same end of the ridiculously long table. It was strangely intimate for the curt conversations we’d had, and I couldn’t help but squirm under his scrutiny. The air of intimidation choked me with each of our dinners. He asked questions, and I gave him polite answers, but we were nothing short of formal.
“May I be excused?”
“No.” Typically, he granted my request, so when I moved to get up, I stopped myself. “How far have you gone?”
“Sorr—pardon?”
“How far have you gone with a man?” he asked again, no shame in his voice, his posture candid.
I felt a small amount of heat grace my cheeks but pushed my shoulders back and replied, “Close.”
“Close?” He smirked. “Close to what?”
Searching for an answer to appease him, I used his words. “Close to being fucked.”
He sat back in his seat and motioned for me by holding out his hand. Tentatively, I took it, having talked myself into giving him whatever it took to finally be free, and not only that, successful. I knew that no one in Dyer would ever know that I’d made it that far, so I was sure then I was doing it for me.
When I was standing in front of him, he inspected me closely.
“Pull down your panties.”
I did as he asked, my skirt covering everything but a small amount of thigh. I wondered if my uniform turned him on. I wondered how bad it was going to hurt. Ray leaned in and pushed my pleated skirt up slowly as his eyes took me in. I stopped wondering altogether when he reached out with gentle hands and began to stroke my thighs.
�
�Look at me,” he ordered. I did as I was told, my nipples beading under my starched white shirt as I saw the desire in his eyes. He softly and slowly ran his fingers through the soft red curls covering my sex.
“You know this is wrong, Taylor,” he said in a whisper as he slid the pad of his finger through my slit. Tumultuous dark blue eyes beckoned me to agree, but budding desire told me otherwise. My lips parted at the feel of him, and my body made the decision. And for the first time in my life, I felt empowered by something I held. Something I knew that he wanted. Something I wanted to give him.
I’d been watching him for weeks, studying his face, his eyes, and his lips, curious how they would affect me. I felt nothing for him on a personal side but was just realizing my attraction toward him. As I stood before him, closer to those lips, completely captivated by his eyes, I knew for certain what I felt for him was desire. Something I’d never had the mind to delve into, until recently. I was too preoccupied with survival. Even with Laz, our intimacy had been short lived due to his drug habit. Being high or cooking meth had always mattered more to him.
Ray looked at me as if I was perfect.
“What if I want it to?” The words fell from my lips so easily I had to wonder where they came from. They were the words of a ready whore, a willing whore.
No longer afraid, I spread my legs a little wider, letting the warm sensation wash over me. His lips quirked up on one side as he watched my reaction to him.
“Put your foot here,” he said, palming his seat, spreading his legs on his chair. I inhaled a stifled breath as I saw the outline in his pants. I put my foot between his thighs, and his hands caressed my bare leg. I closed my eyes, loving the feel of his touch. Once his fingers drifted further inside of me, I let out a low moan, my legs trembling.
“It was your desperation on the phone,” he murmured as if he was answering his own questions, while his fingers slipped in and out, stretching me. “I felt it. I can still feel it. We have this in common, Taylor.” He quickened his fingers as he unzipped his pants, released his cock, and began to stroke himself. Our connected eyes began to convey just how much we both wanted it to happen until Ray shook his head, breaking our heated stare. “I can’t take your innocence, Taylor.”