Forbidden: House of Sin

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Forbidden: House of Sin Page 27

by Elisabeth Naughton


  I’d seen no threat of the right-wing fanatics who’d surrounded us in Rome. I’d felt no threat from any of Luc’s family members. The only person who seemed guarded or on edge was Luc.

  I’d wanted to ask him what was really going on last night, but he’d barely given me a chance to breathe let alone speak. When he’d come to my room, I’d felt his hunger for me in a thousand different ways, with a desperation I hadn’t picked up from him before. It was more than worry for my safety. It was almost as if by my being here, he was afraid I wouldn’t want him anymore.

  One corner of my lips tipped up as I followed Luc’s father through the olive grove late in the day. How could he think I wouldn’t want him? I was absolutely crazy about this man. So crazy I’d pushed my backside against his groin when we’d stood at the end of the group during the tour of the vineyard. So crazy I’d feigned interest in wine barrels and pulled him away from sampling Salvatici wine in the winery so I could kiss him until I was light-headed. So crazy, in fact, that after everyone had left the wine cellar, I’d tugged him back and teased him with my hands and lips in that dark, cold space until I was wet and achy and so horny, I could barely stand upright. Even now, walking beside him in the trees, bombarded by his heat and intoxicating scent that called out to the most feminine places inside me, I was eager to touch him, desperate to kiss him, and frantic to give myself to him in any and every way he desired.

  Not want him? Not even possible. I was obsessed with this man. Obsessed and completely head over heels in love with every single part of him he thought was unlovable.

  Wine and appetizers and more people than I could count waited for us in the courtyard when we returned to the villa. Tables were set up under string lights, and a three-piece band played festive Italian music in the corner as day turned to dusk.

  I noticed the way Luc immediately tensed at the size of the crowd, but he covered it quickly, smiling and accepting hugs from the older women and handshakes from the men. Two men in particular seemed to agitate him more than the others—one who was roughly the same age and size as Luc’s father, and another much younger man with long dark hair pulled into a man bun and black eyes that watched everything.

  My assessment of the two men was interrupted when Luc brought me a glass of Chianti and steered me away from them by the elbow. For the next hour, he introduced me to his many aunts and uncles and cousins…so many, I couldn’t remember their names. All were eager to celebrate Luc’s return. All were eager to meet me, his assistant. And every single one grinned knowingly when they figured out I was more.

  For my part, I sipped my wine and smiled when anyone looked my way. But because most of the conversations were in Italian, I was fairly clueless. I searched for the two men who’d bothered Luc earlier, but they seemed to have already left. So I decided to watch Luc.

  I watched the hypnotic way his luscious lips moved when he spoke. I focused on the tan skin near his eyes that crinkled when he smiled. I found myself mesmerized by his large hands as he waved them in the air, and I remembered each and every erotic way he’d touched me today on our tour when no one was looking. And every time I caught a glimpse of his toned ass in those faded jeans or he moved his muscular arms and shoulders in the thin black T-shirt, I remembered how easily he’d picked me up last night, how he’d taken me to that big bed, how he’d clamped my wrists together at my back and pleasured me so sinfully, I felt as if all the places inside me that I kept carefully guarded were opening up, exposing me to him, freeing something inside me I hadn’t known was trapped.

  Was I rushing into something crazy with him? Was I being reckless? Maybe. But I didn’t care. I wanted more. I wanted him. As I watched him several feet away from me, talking with an elderly couple, my sex absolutely throbbed with the need to feel him inside me now. Right now. Right in the middle of this party.

  I tossed back the last of my wine and set my glass on the nearest table. His gaze drifted to mine as if he felt my eyes on him. Licking my lips, I glanced toward an archway in one of the three buildings that bordered the courtyard and which he’d told me earlier led to the villa’s wine cellar. Then I glanced back at him and waggled my brow.

  He caught the invitation. I saw it in the way his eyes darkened and filled with heat, and in the way his jaw turned to steel beneath his sexy scruff.

  Power rushed through my veins—power and exhilaration. Smiling at the women around me, I politely excused myself from the group and headed toward the archway. My breasts grew heavy and my nipples tight beneath the floral pink sundress I wore. I’d never been this wild before. I’d never been this wet either. I could literally feel my sex weeping for his touch as I passed under the arch and turned to the left, following the dimly lit corridor that led to the bottom level of the villa.

  Footsteps sounded behind me in the cool space. My pulse ticked up, and excitement stirred in my veins. The light faded as I rounded a second corner and stopped. Confident we’d be out of sight of anyone who ventured this way, I pressed my back against the cool bricks and waited.

  It was dark down here. So dark, I could barely see. But the loss of my eyesight only heightened my desire. It smelled of mildew and wine. And Luc’s tantalizing scent of jasmine and musk and rum as he drew close. My fingers shook against the cool bricks. My breaths grew quicker. Every inch of my body prickled in anticipation of his hot, wicked, commanding touch.

  “I thought I told you not to go anywhere alone.” His voice was like sandpaper and velvet all at the same time, sliding over my skin, seeping into my pores, infusing me with white-hot lust.

  “I’m not alone. You’re here now.”

  “Yes, I am,” he said in a clearly annoyed voice. “And what if I hadn’t followed you?”

  His heat washed over me, telling me he was close…so incredibly close. I sucked in a deep whiff of his intoxicating scent and trembled. “But you did.”

  My stomach caved in as I waited for him to kiss me, as I held my breath in anticipation of his touch. Long seconds passed with only the sound of my racing pulse echoing in my ear. Just when I was ready to scream and grab him, I felt his lips brush my earlobe.

  “This used to be the dungeon.” His hot breath sent a shiver down my spine, one that supercharged my desire. “There are still rings embedded high on the walls where prisoners used to be chained and punished. Is that why you lured me down here, angioletto? Because you’re a bad girl who needs to be punished?”

  Oh my…yes.

  My eyes slid closed, and my whole body melted. I was so gone over this man. So completely gone, I didn’t even care that there was a party going on only yards from us.

  Pushing away from the wall, I stepped into all his sinfully delicious heat. My hands instantly landed against his rock-hard abs, and my lips and nose brushed his delectable throat.

  “Yes.” I nipped at his succulent skin, then licked the spot until he groaned. “I want your hands on me. I can’t stand it anymore. I have to feel you inside me. However you want. I need you right now.”

  A growl rumbled in his chest, right beneath my fingertips, and then his mouth was on mine, claiming me in a searing kiss I felt everywhere.

  He pushed me back against the cold wall and took control of the kiss, of my body, of my heart and soul and mind, and I was eager to give it all up to him. His hands found the skirt of my dress and tugged it up. Cool air washed over my thighs and steamy sex. He slid one hand down my ass and around between my legs, then groaned when he realized I’d ditched my panties and was commando beneath my dress.

  “Ah, angioletto.” He drew back from my swollen lips and breathed hot over my mouth. “You do need to be punished.” His big hand cupped my backside, and he pressed two thick fingers deep into my sex.

  “Oh yes…” Pleasure streaked through me. Tightening against his touch, I slid my hands up his strong shoulders and twined my fingers together at his nape for support.

  “I didn’t tell you to take off your panties.” He drew his fingers out, then thrust in again.
At my front, he rocked the hard bulge of his erection against my quivering clit. “Maybe instead of chaining you to the wall, I’ll just edge you.”

  I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation of his fingers sliding in and out. I was so turned on, I knew I could come in a matter of seconds.

  “Would you like that?” he breathed against my neck. “Would you like to be edged?”

  I tipped my head to the side, giving him more access to my throat. “I-I don’t know what that is.”

  He continued to thrust slow and deep, to torture my clit with his steely cock. To send shivers down my spine with his tantalizing breath. “It means I torture you with the promise of release. I keep you right on the edge of orgasm. I think you deserve it after the way you taunted me all fucking day.”

  He rubbed my G-spot deep inside, and I felt my orgasm screaming toward me. My whole body tightened in anticipation, and I lifted myself in his arms.

  But right before it hit, he pulled his fingers free. Cool air swept over me, making me twitch and grunt.

  “That’s it,” he whispered, letting go of my skirt so it fell down the backs of my legs. “Edging makes you horny as fuck. When I finally let you come tonight, your orgasm is going to destroy you. But I say when, angioletto. Not you.”

  I groaned because…tonight? My fingers slid up into his hair, and I yanked his mouth down to mine and kissed him hard, telling him with my tongue exactly what I wanted now.

  His chest shook with a laugh, one that only made me more frustrated. I kissed him deeper. He answered by wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing me back, slowing and gentling the kiss until I wanted to scream. But he didn’t make any other move to fuck me, and I knew he wasn’t going to. I knew this was his latest form of domination.

  Every cell in my body quivered in protest. I wasn’t going to let him call the shots this time. I needed this. I needed him. Letting go of his hair, I dropped my hands and reached for the snap on his jeans with frantic fingers.

  He captured my wrists before I could get the snap free and jerked back from my mouth, pushing my hands away from his waistband at the same time. “Natalie, don’t.”

  My chest rose and fell with my labored breaths. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him. I could feel his heat and his need pulsing in his veins. He wanted me, dammit, and I wanted him just as much. “Why not?”

  “Because there are too many people outside.”

  “You didn’t mind when we were on your plane. Or in Venice. Or in the winery earlier today.”

  “Those times were different.”

  I had no clue what he meant. “Why?”

  “Because I said so.”

  Because he said so? No way. “I don’t thi—”

  “Luciano.”

  I froze when I heard Luc’s father’s terse voice, and everything that had been hot inside me went ice-cold.

  “Porca puttana,” Luc muttered. Jerking me into him, he growled, “Don’t pull another fucking stunt like this again.”

  He pushed me away, then called, “We’re down here.”

  Footsteps sounded, and a light flicked on. Blinking rapidly to clear the spots from my vision, I smoothed my skirt and glanced at Luc, five feet away from me. He was watching me, but not with the heated, aroused eyes he’d watched me with all day. These stormy eyes were hard and furious, and they sent a shiver of unease straight down my spine.

  Luc’s father rounded the corner and stopped when he spotted us. His gaze drifted from me to Luc and back again. “What’s going on down here?”

  Pressure formed in my chest. I felt like I’d crossed some invisible line I wasn’t supposed to come near. Luc hadn’t balked at my teasing all day, and only a few moments ago, he’d been the one sexually taunting me. But something had changed when I’d tried to unsnap his pants. Was it the fact I’d tried to take control? Or was it something else? Something linked to the people outside in that courtyard?

  I was almost afraid of the answers as I glanced at Luc’s father. My smile wavered when I said, “It’s my fault. I was looking for a restroom. Luc was kind enough to come find me before I got lost.”

  Luc’s father’s eyes narrowed, and he stared at me for several moments before glancing at his son. “Stai fermo dove sei.” He looked back at me. “I need to speak with my son for a moment. Please, return to the party.”

  He stepped back and held out his hand, indicating I should pass. My nerves shot up, and I glanced at Luc. Luc stood perfectly still, but a muscle in his jaw ticked, and his eyes wouldn’t meet mine.

  “Okay,” I said in a nervous voice, unsure what was going on. “I-I’ll see you both back in the courtyard.”

  Neither answered me, so I hesitantly stepped past Luc’s father. At my back, Antonio called, “The restroom is inside the main house, two doors down on the right.”

  My face flushed, and my feet faltered. Something in his voice told me he knew I hadn’t been looking for a restroom at all. It also told me he knew exactly what we’d been doing in the dark. “Grazie.”

  My stomach pitched as I moved out of the corridor into the courtyard again. Dusk was drifting to darkness, and only the western part of the sky was still a deep shade of blue. Tables covered in white tablecloths had been set up around the courtyard, and candles illuminated the place settings.

  Hand shaking, I refilled my wineglass and took a large sip. An older woman—one of the aunts I’d been introduced to earlier—grabbed me by the arm and pulled me toward a group of women. They each began asking me questions about America. I answered what I could, but my attention kept darting back to the archway, waiting for Luc to reemerge. And with every passing minute he didn’t, my pulse ticked up another notch.

  Just about the time I was ready to go looking for him, he finally appeared. Relief swept through me, but it was quickly banked when I saw the hurricane swirling in his eyes and the rigid line of his shoulders. His father smiled at his side, slapped him on the back, then shouted at a group of men and walked toward them. Luc didn’t follow. His livid gaze scanned the crowd until it locked on me. And as he approached and I felt the fury rolling off him in waves, I very nearly recoiled.

  He stopped next to me and took the wineglass from my hand. Flashing a sour smile at his dark-haired aunt to my right, he said something in Italian I didn’t understand. She and the two other women glanced my way with shocked expressions, then flushed and scurried off.

  My face immediately heated. “What did you tell them?”

  He tossed back the rest of my wine. “I told them you’re a lush who can’t handle her alcohol.”

  My eyes flew wide. “Wha—?”

  “You’re done drinking tonight.” He turned me away from the party by the elbow and set my empty wineglass on a nearby table. “It clearly fucks with your ability to follow simple directions.” He pushed me into a chair away from the festivities and glared down at me. “Sit there where I can keep an eye on you, and stay out of fucking trouble. We’re leaving first thing in the morning. I’ll be back when it’s appropriate for you to retire to your room without making a goddamn scene.”

  My mouth fell open as he turned and walked away from me. Shock and disbelief rolled through my belly while I watched him weave through the crowd, stop near his mother, and whisper something in her ear. She glanced past him toward me, frowned, and patted his arm. Luc, however, never once looked my way. He disappeared into the house, leaving me sitting confused and alone at a table in the middle of a party where I knew no one.

  Something hard twisted around my heart. I scanned faces, searching for some kind of threat, for anything that would explain his odd behavior. But everyone else was laughing and drinking and having a good time. I was the only one separated from the group. I was the only one being punished.

  “Signora.” An older woman with salt-and-pepper hair pulled neatly into a bun and whom I recognized from the kitchen this morning appeared at my side and set a cup of coffee on the table in front of me. With a pitying expression on her weath
ered face, she said, “Enjoy, cara.”

  The woman looked as if she wanted to say something more, but one quick glance over her shoulder and she scurried off just like the others. I looked to see at whom she’d glanced and spotted Luc’s mother scowling in my direction.

  My face heated even more as I focused on my coffee. I wanted to disappear into the background. I wanted to jump up and run to my room. But I was afraid to do either because if Luc came back and found me gone, I knew the storm I’d seen flare in his eyes moments before would pale in comparison.

  I swallowed hard because the pressure around my heart told me that wasn’t the real reason I couldn’t leave. The real reason was that I sensed Luc wasn’t really upset with me. Something had happened with his father, the same kind of something that had enraged him in Venice when he’d been summoned home. I was just the closest target for his rage.

  But I was tired of being kept in the dark. I was tired of his secrets. And I was done letting him push me around like this. I loved him, dammit. I deserved to know what was really going on.

  I just didn’t know what I’d do if he chose not to tell me.

  * * *

  Luc didn’t join me at the party again. I spent the rest of my night stewing over that fact with Dante’s girlfriend who’d migrated my way when she’d seen me sitting alone.

  I couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong with Maricella. She watched Dante like a hawk, but anytime Luc’s brother had glanced our way, she’d cast her eyes down and away. And she had a weird tattoo peeking out of the collar of her soft yellow dress and beneath her blonde hair. A leopard-print tattoo I suspected ran the entire length of her spine.

  Not that I had a problem with tattoos. I didn’t. I thought some I’d seen were pretty awesome. I simply had no desire to get inked. It wasn’t Maricella’s tattoo that bothered me, though. It was the way she acted…as if she wasn’t good enough to mingle with the Salvatici family. As if it was her place to walk behind Dante and let him treat her like dirt. As if everything he said and did was golden and she was thankful just to be in his presence. And every time she said yes, sir to him, just as those models in New York had said yes, sir to Gio, my spine tingled with both outrage and disgust.

 

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