Take Me

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  She trembled against him. “Did you?”

  “Mmm,” he murmured softly in agreement.

  He turned her around to face him and she saw he had a large, rectangular velvet box in his hands. She looked up at him in question, hoping she was sufficiently masking the emotional upheaval racing through her veins.

  He lifted the lid and inside lay a sparkling, brilliant necklace and matching earrings in a colored stone that Natalie had never seen before. She reached out to run her finger over them. “What are they?” she whispered.

  “Chocolate diamonds surrounded by white diamonds. I hope you like it. I couldn’t decide between the white gold and the rose gold, but the rose seemed too much. I think this color will enhance your beauty more.”

  “They’re beautiful.”

  “You’re beautiful,” he said swiftly.

  “Marco—”

  “Do you like them?”

  “I—I love them, but I can’t take them.”

  He ignored her as if she hadn’t spoken, and lifted the necklace from its bed of velvet. He draped it around her neck, and fumbled just enough with the fastener to let her know this wasn’t something he was used to doing. A small quiver of delight at the knowledge pierced her heart.

  He picked her hand up and led her away from the windows, to a console with a large mirror above it. He swung her around to face the mirror and stood at the side of her and held out the earrings, with a silent demand for her to put them on.

  She fastened them to her ears with hands that trembled. They were gorgeous, absolutely beautiful, and she’d never owned anything even a tenth as nice. But doubt was taking hold of her. She couldn’t keep them, could she?

  His hands fell to her shoulders and he kissed the nape of her neck, his fingers sliding over the necklace and her naked flesh beneath in a blatant display of ownership. Desire, immediate and strong, overcame her and beat a loud cadence through her veins.

  He stood at her back and enclosed her breasts in the palms of his hands, his thumbs stroking through the layer of clothing to her nipples beneath. His eyes were hot on hers in the mirror.

  Her lashes began to dip and his nostrils flared in sexual response. When her eyes closed completely, he pulled her shirt over her head with a rustle of cloth and then his hands fell back to her breasts, covered now only in thin lace.

  His breathing escalated as he pushed the bra down and out of his way and his hands gripped her with unrelenting strength as he caressed her nipples. “These sweet little tits are so perfect you don’t need a bra,” he whispered in a raspy voice at her ear, “it’s only a hindrance to me.”

  His fingers plucked and pulled at her nipples, sending a stream of wet heat down her body to the juncture of her thighs. Her hips pushed back against him as she tried to retain control of her thoughts. “My—my nipples show through my clothes if I don’t wear one.”

  His hands stilled a moment, his palms covering her small breasts completely. “We can’t have that,” he said in a strong voice. “So I’ll need to practice more patience.” With that, he unsnapped her bra and pushed it completely out of his way.

  Her eyes flew open and she saw dark flecks of red on his cheekbones as he gave her a quick, cursory look before lifting her skirt to her waist and dragging her panties from her hips in a rough, determined motion that left her butt bared to him in seconds.

  He growled deep in his throat, adjusted his own clothing and then all at once, Natalie felt the broad head of his penis pushing at her from behind. Her inner channel flooded with wet heat, preparing itself to accommodate him and she felt as if she couldn’t breathe or speak as his eyes held hers captive in the mirror.

  He pushed an inch inside of her, to the place where she could feel herself being gloriously, threateningly stretched and then he stopped and held her at that precipice as he ground his teeth together and watched her steadily. “You’re keeping the jewelry. I don’t want to hear one goddamned word about it, you understand me?”

  She was silent, beyond being able to speak, as she waited for the excruciating pleasure she knew was coming.

  He adjusted his stance, wrapped his brawny arm around her pelvis and lifted her from her feet just enough. He plunged inside with one quick, hard thrust that impaled her and left her gasping between pain and intense pleasure.

  He gave her two seconds to adjust, and with a flare of uncontrolled heat in his dark eyes, began pumping at her steadily. His hips rocked against hers, rolling and punching at her, and her breathing accelerated to match his. Her body surged with a dance of excitement and she knew the possessive clasp he had on her—seeing it in the mirror—was going to propel her over the edge within moments.

  She was under his control, powerless to resist his appeal and his sexual domination. Her heart hammered in her ears, his eyes and his body riveted her to the spot, but she didn’t want to get away. She never wanted to get away.

  He began thrusting into her even harder, and Natalie knew he was losing control. His fingers slid down to her clit, and he massaged it in time with his thrusts. His teeth fastened on her earlobe and his words were a hiss, “This is the way I like it best. Your clothes half-off and your pussy dripping for me.” He pumped steadily at her. “Just for me, Natalie. Remember that, always. I fuck you. When and how I want. But nobody else touches you, ever.”

  His heated words washed over her, enticing her with their demand. He was always like this, going from the suave, debonair businessman when they were in company, to a dominating caveman with a filthy mouth that continued to shock her, right until the moment his words began to excite her. And now, lifted off her feet with his big body surrounding her, her lashes closed over her eyes as she felt her womb begin to tighten in the advance of orgasm. He stiffened behind her, shoved inside with a depth and power that continued to stun her, and held himself there while his own orgasm took over.

  His finger and thumb pinched her clit hard, and Natalie screamed as pleasure and a sharp, hot coil of satisfaction lashed her. She rode the wave hard, and collapsed against him and the last thing she knew was his head falling to her neck and the delicious sensation of his arms as they wrapped around her as if he’d never let go.

  * * *

  Natalie walked out of the shower an hour later with a towel wrapped around her body and another one in her hands drying her wet hair. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Marco leaning negligently against the bedroom wall, obviously waiting on her. He watched her steadily and his hand lifted, and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” He stood to his feet and walked within range of touching distance. “I forgot to give this to you earlier.” He held out a small ring size box in his hand and Natalie felt her throat close up and butterflies take hold in her stomach. But then he walked right past her and tossed the box on the chest of drawers and turned back to face her in a move that seemed casual in the extreme—almost too casual. “The jewelry was a set. That came with it.” He glanced at her once more as she stood completely still and tried to get her brain and voice to work.

  Before she could accomplish either, he walked from the bedroom as silently as he’d entered, and closed the door behind him.

  Natalie stared at the closed door and the towel in her hand dropped to the floor as she clutched the one around her body so that it wouldn’t do the same. She breathed deeply, in and out for a few seconds before her gaze landed on the small box as if it might be lethal.

  Slowly, she walked over to it and lifted it down from its perch on the bureau. She closed her eyes and licked her lips and then snapped it open.

  Her heart stopped beating, her breath caught in her throat, and she stumbled backwards until her butt landed on the bed behind her.

  Inside the box was a ring that could be, but probably wasn’t, a part of the set he’d given her. No question it was a beautiful ring. And big. The center stone was, again, a chocolate diamond. It was huge and round, possibly three carats and surrounded by white diam
onds that made a halo around it.

  It was unquestionably unique and if the situation had been right, which it wasn’t, it could have been an engagement ring. Her heart banged loudly in her chest as she ran the tip of her finger over the upraised diamond, wondering at his intent. She stood up and walked to the drawer where she had stashed the other jewelry before her bath. Immediately, she saw that the boxes were two different colors. Upon further inspection, the names emblazoned on the inside were from different upscale jewelry stores. Although the pieces resembled each other, they weren’t a matching set.

  She sat back down with the ring box in her hand, her mind going a mile a minute. His manner had been so casual just a moment ago that it was almost deceiving. But she couldn’t let go of the sensation that he’d been worried about her reaction. He’d said the pieces were part of a set, which they clearly weren’t. So, her blood ran swiftly through her veins as she put two and two together and came up with four, or four and a half, as she tried to calculate his intent.

  The answer she came up with was dangerous because she didn’t know if she was going in the right direction. Marco had wanted her to have a ring. She slipped it from the box and held it between her fingers, studying it.

  It was exquisite and she desperately wanted to slip it on her left ring finger, because it was an intimate gift from him, not because she was naive enough to think they were engaged. She swallowed deeply and slid it on her right hand instead and twisted her hand this way and that, watching it catch the overhead light and glisten brightly. There was no question that it fit her ring finger perfectly, so the only choice she had was which hand to wear it on.

  She absolutely didn’t want to be presumptuous and wear it on her left hand, but there was an insidious little whisper in her brain that was telling her that he wanted her to wear it on her left hand. If she put it on her right hand, he might never say anything and it would then have to remain on her right hand.

  If she put it on her left, she might please him and the worst that could happen would be complete humiliation if he told her to move it. She knew one thing; she had to go slowly with him.

  She bit her lip in indecision and then shoved it on her left ring finger. She gasped out loud from the perfect way it felt on her hand and from the comfort she derived from it.

  Now if only she had guessed correctly and she was allowed to keep it there.

  * * *

  Marco watched as Natalie left the bedroom and entered the living area of the suite. They hadn’t made any definitive plans for supper, but she was dressed in a new, slinky pantsuit that defined casual elegance and could be worn in comfort at home, or would stand up in public as well. Around her neck was the necklace he’d given her, and he could see the earrings glittering through the fall of her pale hair.

  He swiftly looked to her hand to see if she’d put the ring on as well. Satisfaction, hard and piercing, ran through his blood when he saw his diamond on her left ring finger. The ring was big enough and noticeable enough to ensure the kind of attention she’d been attracting in the last few weeks when they went out would go away. He didn’t like the looks she’d been getting, not a damned bit. She was bright and vibrant and her face glowed with a compelling, innocent beauty that never failed to attract attention wherever they went.

  And he hated it.

  But short of keeping her locked in all the time, he couldn’t think of a single fucking way to keep all the goddamn eyes off her. But at least now when they looked, his ring would be prominently displayed on her hand and she would be marked as his.

  Now if he could only get her to agree to have his initials tattooed across the top swell of her breast, he’d be a happy man. The erotic thought ran through his mind only in jest but took hold firmly in his brain and he couldn’t seem to shake it.

  The image wouldn’t go away and he knew without hesitation that if she’d ever allow it, he would jump all over that shit.

  * * *

  New York had been brilliant. The week had been brilliant and their relationship had improved and grown from the experience.

  Natalie hugged the thought to her as they travelled together up the elevator to the penthouse when they arrived home. No doubt he’d been pleased when he’d seen the ring on her finger, and even more so the next day when she’d worn only the ring and not the rest of the set when he’d taken her sightseeing.

  It had set a precedent that she was pleased with. She wore the ring all the time, even at night, and fierce pleasure ran through her when on several occasions, he’d picked her fingers up, laced them with his, and kissed the back of her hand, his lips brushing against the ring as well. He was a man of few words, but his actions gave her both comfort and hope.

  The elevator doors swooshed open, and Natalie stepped into the penthouse in a pleasurable haze. She looked around and came to a halt, the suddenness of her stop making him crash into her as he wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her.

  As she looked around the interior of the penthouse, her heartbeat went wild and she tried desperately to catch her breath. He spoke from behind her. “Come on. I haven’t seen it, either.”

  He propelled her into the room, moved his arm from her waist to grip her hand, and led her through the apartment one room at a time.

  Natalie had no words as she looked around in stunned appreciation. She was completely speechless as he looked from one room to the next, and made only minor comments as he pulled her along. She tried like hell to answer him, but she was very much afraid her words were only garbled sounds of agreement and pleasure. Or so she hoped, at least.

  He’d had the penthouse completely redecorated while they’d been gone. Everything had been swept away as if it had never been, and the entire home was redone with new furniture, accessories, paint and flooring.

  It was reminiscent of the decor from the restaurant that she had cooed over and she loved it. She loved everything about it, from the warm colors to the stone accents and everything in between.

  But she was totally taken aback that he’d had it done. For her? What other answer could there be? He led her over to a plush, comfortable couch with a large, matching ottoman that served as a coffee-table. He pulled her down with him, testing it out.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “I—I—” Natalie was still completely speechless—almost afraid to react.

  He grimaced as if in pain. “If you don’t like it, it’s not a problem. I’ll have the decorator come out again and redo it the way you want it. Shit. I’m sorry. I should have let you choose to begin with.”

  She laid her hand on his arm to silence him. “Marco, stop.” She looked away from his eyes and then back again. “It’s perfect—perfect. I couldn’t have done better. I love it.”

  “Thank fuck. It took them the full week to do. We’d have to move out again.”

  She clenched his arm and looked around the room. “You did all this for me?”

  “I didn’t do it for me.” His eyes were like razors as they watched closely for her reaction.

  “But—why?”

  “You know why, Natalie. You hated it. And I can’t have you hating our home, or you might leave.”

  “I wouldn’t leave just because of the decor.” She stated simply.

  “Not a chance I was willing to take, okay?” His words were firm and Natalie knew by his tone that the conversation was over.

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  Chapter Nine

  A week later, Natalie walked out of the apartment with both phones in her bag and the SIM cards switched.

  She’d worried over the thought of him tracking her more than she cared to think about. The situation couldn’t go on. Everything was good between them. Their relationship was progressing at a slow but good pace. They were in a place she was very comfortable with. Although only defined as ‘a couple,’ she wore a ring he had given her, and that was enough for her.

  The house had been redecorated for her, and that pleased her beyond belief.
The night after they’d gotten home from New York, as he’d wandered in and out of the kitchen after she’d cleaned up after supper, she pulled everything from the cabinets and reorganized them to her satisfaction, as if it were her own kitchen.

  And he’d watched her, the only problem he’d had was the amount of time it was taking her. The set of his mouth indicated it was past time for her to be in bed with him.

  So with her boundaries set, her kitchen, her domain, his ring on her finger and the right to call herself his girlfriend, the only problem Natalie had was the freaking annoyance that he didn’t trust her.

  And it had to end. Today.

  She’d picked the place for the confrontation carefully. A street in Downtown far enough away from home that he’d drop what he was doing and come look for her, unless he trusted her enough to just call, but she doubted he’d do that. She hoped he would, but she doubted it. The location was close enough she could get there by train and on the outskirts enough, not completely surrounded by tall buildings, that he shouldn’t have a problem pinpointing her location.

  She wanted him to pinpoint her location, all right.

  Natalie walked into the Starbucks she’d already chosen, ordered a coffee, and walked into the restroom. She dumped the coffee into the sink, rinsed and dried the cup out and slipped the smart phone inside. Walking outside to the patio area, she hid the cup in a large potted plant next to a trash receptacle and walked down the street to an outside magazine vendor and pretended to be immersed in browsing for a purchase.

  She chatted with the vendor, bought a pack of gum, and continued to look at the magazines while watching the street in front of the Starbucks.

  The whole process had already taken over thirty minutes since she’d left the penthouse, and she figured something would happen soon, at least she thought it would.

 

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