by CC MacKenzie
Oh my.
Lust curled deep in her belly.
"Maybe I want you to punish me, if you dare."
CHAPTER FOUR
Her words shot fire, like a flame-thrower, straight to his dick. In the bedroom Olivier always made sure he treated Anastacia with nothing but deep respect and with a careful restraint of his more basic instincts. To him, loving her meant taking care of her, going nice and slow and always, always putting her sexual needs before his. Anastacia was so delicately made. She felt terribly fragile beneath his hands. Before her, he'd been a man accustomed to taking what he wanted, where and how he wanted it. But with her note this morning demanding that he welcome her home naked, like some sort of stud, and with the gauntlet tossed at his feet now, there was no going back.
"Strip," he said.
Her vivid eyes were dark with desire after their kiss, but they lit now. Her lips curved, pure seduction and pure cheek, as she lowered her arms to let her silk shift dress slide to a heap around her feet. Then she tossed her bra in a move that was a direct challenge. Little witch.
She reached for his erection.
He let out a grunt of incredulous laughter and stopped her with a firm hold of her wrist. Spun her back with a rough tug that made her eyes go wide. "No touching. We are going to need a bed for what comes next."
With that declaration vibrating between them, he pulled her towards their bedroom.
Then he grabbed her.
With toes hovering inches above the floor, Olivier's mouth bruised hers in an urgent, greedy demand claimed with tongue and teeth. Dangling in his hold, she was caught in a dizzying reel when her back was slammed against the wall.
Yes.
She loved wall sex.
Heart going crazy in her chest, her fingers dug into his wide shoulders as she opened her mouth to the relentlessly slow thrust of his tongue. Her mouth followed his calculated retreat, lips sucking on his tongue. Her moan was one of utter surrender as his tongue thrust again, her body burning as he fulfilled every single dark fantasy. Her every sense intensified now, directed only on him, drowning in the taste, the touch and smell of Olivier. The sound of his tormented breath, the look of a desperate desire in his dark eyes before he dipped his head to ravage her throat. His mouth sucked, devoured with teeth, lapping tongue and hot, wet breath that drove her out of her mind.
His big hands covered her breasts as if he owned them in strong, kneading caresses that made her cry out. Groaning with a sound of pure male gratification, he pressed his mouth to the top of one pouting breast and then the other, as if she were gifting her body to him.
"You taste so sweet. I love your smell. Your skin is so soft, like silk."
Every single part of him was hard, solid and tight. A big, super-fit athlete who made her feel like a delicate little doll in his arms. He was proving he was man enough for her, man enough to afford her, without words, every single forbidden fantasy. She knew the kiss was only the beginning of something exciting, something special.
"More," she gasped, asking for more of what, she didn't know, but knowing he would give.
"More?" he muttered the word like a warning, his lips kissing the swell of her breast, the damp drag of his tongue miraculously enticing, cool enough to make her shiver and hot enough to make very part of her burn.
"Give me more."
The tone told him to hurry.
His head lifted and she saw the dare, the glint of devilment blazing in his eyes.
"More what?" he asked, his hands sliding hard and possessively down her narrow hips, over the curve of her backside to the back of her thighs. "How about more of me doing this?"
Her breath caught as she opened herself to him and saw the dark intent in those eyes. For some crazy reason she simply could not comprehend, amongst the overwhelming desire and soaring lust, a whisper of thrilled laughter was liberated from her throat.
How the hell was she laughing when her whole body was about to spontaneously combust? She'd never known a seduction of the senses like this. Never thought it could be fun and wicked and thrilling and hot and crazy all at the same time. But then this was Olivier. A man whose mouth alone should come with a hazard warning. And she realized that he was also a man who would always keep her on her toes. How frigging lucky was she? She'd never had a man who'd ever looked at her the way he was looking at her right now. As if she was his sun, his moon and everything in between.
"Gimme everything you've got," she issued the challenge and gasped as his big hands, rough now, cupped and squeezed her backside.
"I used to think your amazing hair was the only unmanageable thing about you. But I was wrong." When he took a nipple between his teeth and bit, she cried his name. "You are a wild and wanton woman."
Hell, yeah.
She wild all right, wild for him.
"It's never been like this with anyone else," she whispered as he dropped to his knees, those strong hands moved over her legs from back to front. So close and yet so thrillingly far from where she wanted those hands to be.
Olivier hooked her knee over his shoulder, opening up her vulnerable and damp center to him.
"Oh, God," she moaned, almost delirious, knowing exactly what was coming.
Her, she hoped.
His response was a scandalous, open-mouthed kiss upon the moist and fragile silk that covered her. She'd been expecting it, maybe after he'd slipped her panties off or torn them from her body, but she hadn't been expecting this.
Through the first languidly lazy sweeps of the flat of his tongue, her breath was trapped tight in her throat. Then that breath escaped on a keening cry at the tantalizing bite and soft nuzzle of his nose as he inhaled.
Omigod.
The power of his seduction knew no limits as his mouth, hot and wet, skilfully led her along a dark path of ultimate pleasure. The friction between mouth, silk, and hot flesh was so intense her breath hitched again. Big hands supported her tight bottom, giving it a firm, almost painful grip that only accelerated the inevitable slow slide of liquid fire through her core. His tongue now stroked with a slow and easy increase of pressure until her fragile control was torn asunder. Her fingers dug into his scalp in the vain attempt to gain a hold, something to ground her to a world gone mad as a tsunami of lust lifted her too high too fast.
Her whimper was broken as her body coiled tight beneath his mouth.
"I can't..." And her legs gave way as she screamed his name. But Olivier had her, caught her in his strong arms as he moved his mouth in unison with the shameful grinding of her hips. His mouth sucked the silk in a way that made her moan as she came through a free fall of a release that left her limp.
Freeing her leg from his shoulder, he held her until she was able to stand on trembling limbs. World spinning, she barely registered the way he scooped her up in his arms and lay her on their bed.
While she caught her breath, he leaned on his elbow to stare down into her eyes.
His chest was rising and falling as if he'd finished a sprint. Need stormed in his eyes, turning them dark with desire.
For her.
"That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," he muttered.
The only warning she received was the flash in his eyes before she was again in his arms, her mouth crushed beneath the brutal assault of his kiss. His groan burned her lips as he pulled her into him. Strong hands skimmed down her back, her hips, her thighs in a possessive exploration that left her flesh burning and her core pulsing with liquid need. He'd never touched her like this, as if he owned her body and soul. It was erotic, sensual and totally insane the way he demanded more and she gave him... everything.
When her panties were stripped from her body, her eyes begged him to return to her, to finish what he started. Pure lust made her spread her legs and she saw his eyes darken further, saw his erection pulse as it reached out to her. And then his body was lowered upon hers.
God, she loved the heavy weight of him, loved the way he spread her legs wider, the way he
gripped her knee to push it higher, to open her completely to him. And, oh, she loved the way he filled her, stretched her too much. But then she couldn't think at all at she was swept away, her head back, her back arched as she took everything he gave, and more.
Olivier gritted his teeth when she cried out beneath him. It wasn't a cry of pain. It was a high cry of pleasure. Oh, yeah, he loved the way her breath hitched at his ear with every single punishing thrust. A little voice told him she might be too tight for him to take her so mercilessly, but he was beyond being gentle. This was no measured penetration, this was a claiming, a taking of what was his. He shifted to stare down into her flushed face, her dazed blue eyes. Her full lips were parted as another breath was suspended between them. Now her eyes found his and he seemed to drown, lost, in her. Lost in something amazing, something perfect, something so very right. Then her body clamped down hard on his, signalling she was close, so close. His jaw clenched as he battled to hang on, to wait. Every single gasp and sigh was a tortured delight. He knew what she liked. He knew how to drive her crazy. Now her hands skimmed down his back to grip his backside as again her back arched. He loved the way she held him so close as she came with a scream that could have shattered the crystal chandelier high above them. How he managed to hold back, he'd never know. But even as she gasped when he withdrew to toss her on her belly and pull her to the edge of the bed to take her from behind, hard and fast, his last thought before his body shot him to the stars and beyond was that his woman was amazing.
Anastacia roused herself from a fabulous state of decadent lethargy. Parts of her ached liked they'd never ached before. Wow, there was nothing like hot sex to recharge the batteries. Beneath her cheek the hectic beat of Olivier's heart slowly, so slowly, returned to something like normal. She closed her eyes as images of everything he'd done to her flashed in her mind. Her toes curled with the memory of how he'd flipped her over and taken her in a way that had been a claiming of her body, nothing less. And she'd loved every single moment.
Incredible.
"Did I hear a laugh?" His deep voice rumbled under her cheek, the sound stroking over her flesh like a wonderful caress. She shifted to rub her chin on his manly chest, study the firm line of his strong jaw and the wicked amusement filling his dark eyes. They were intimately joined, arms and legs and slick bare skin. It felt so wonderful. At least it did until his hand slid down her back to spank her backside once, hard.
"Ouch!" She shoved back the weight of her hair to scowl at him. "What was that for?"
"The laugh. What did we do that was funny?"
Seriously?
He thought she was laughing at him?
She dug her elbows into his chest, not in the least bit sorry when he winced.
Now she leaned back to stare into his gorgeous face.
"I was laughing because that was amazing and even though I hurt in places too numerous to mention, I enjoyed it. Happy now?"
"I hurt you?"
His scowl made her roll her eyes.
"You were an animal." When he paled, she took pity on him. "I loved it and want to do it again and often."
Now he just shook his head as his big hand fisted in her hair and he rolled her beneath him. Dark eyes, anxious eyes, searched her face, as if to make sure she wasn't spinning him a line. So she slapped his bare butt to emphasize the point that she was perfectly fine. Better than fine.
His kiss in response was not soft or gentle.
Again the hint of dominance, of possession, made her shiver.
"You are such a demanding little thing."
"Too much for you to handle, big guy?"
"No. But one of these days you are going to push your luck."
The way he said it warned her not to ignore his advice.
She opened her mouth to give him a smart comeback, but the look in his eye - dangerous - had her snap it shut.
There was a lot more to Olivier Conti than met the eye.
She beamed a cheery smile that made him narrow his eyes.
"I want a shower, dinner and a relaxing night with my man, in that order."
He grinned, rose and pulled her to her feet.
"Your wish is my command."
As she permitted him to tow her into the shower, he sounded like the old Olivier, even touched her like the old Olivier.
She wasn't scared of a bit of rough sex play.
In fact, she'd thoroughly enjoyed it.
However, she was well aware that by leaving him an innocent little note this morning, where she'd commanded him to do her bidding, she'd unknowingly unleashed the beast within him. Something she'd no idea was there in the first place. And that realization made her shiver. Occasional sex play was one thing, but no way would she ever allow or permit a man to dominate her in bed or out of it. She'd been down that road before and had no intention of going down it again.
Now she wondered where Olivier's sudden need for dominance in the bedroom might lead and what it meant for them in the long term.
CHAPTER FIVE
"You could do with a break, piccolino. Instead of cooking, why don't I take you out for dinner and dancing?"
Wearing one of his T-shirts, a T-shirt that drowned her, and panties, Anastacia was sprawled on her back on the couch while her man indulged her in a foot rub. She'd just talked herself hoarse describing her complex feelings about meeting her sister for the very first time.
"I know it's Friday night, but I'm not sure I'm up to dancing." She yawned hugely. "I don't remember ever feeling this tired."
Dressed in his favourite soft blue jeans and a black T-shirt gone grey with too many washes, Olivier wiggled his brows, his dark eyes glittered into hers with no sign of repentance.
He lifted her foot, pressed a kiss to toes painted a screaming red.
"I kept you awake last night. Scusate," he said in a deep voice, his Italian accent fanning the relentless little flames of lust deep in her belly. In the past, sex hadn't bothered her. She could take it or leave it. In her one serious relationship, a relationship that hadn't ended well, she couldn't remember herself ever being so... needy. Olivier just had to look at her to turn her on. She was still getting used to the way he always liked to put his hands on her, wherever he could touch. She almost moaned when his clever fingers hit the spot on the arch of her foot.
She lifted her other foot to nudge his flat belly.
"You are not sorry. You're insatiable."
His dimple flashed as did something in his eyes she hadn't seen before.
"Si, for you. Only for you."
"Maybe we should invite Danni and T.C. They're always up for a party."
He shook his head.
"I like your friends very much. But tonight I want you all to myself."
Hmm, possessive much?
Anastacia found she didn't mind it and gave in.
"Okay. Let me get changed."
In a smooth move, he got to his feet and hauled her up, but again she saw something in his face.
"Are you okay?" she asked and rose on tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck.
Vividly blue eyes were searching his as the conversation he'd had with Nico spun into Olivier's mind.
What to say?
How could he say, 'I want you to wear my ring. The fact you are not is making me crazy'?
How could he say that to her?
How could he force her into something she was not ready for?
So he said nothing.
Instead, he took the hand she placed on his chest and brought it to his mouth.
"I am happy, piccolino. Let us get dressed and I will take you dancing."
As she dashed for the bedroom, he flopped on his back on the couch to study the ceiling.
What the hell was he going to do about the strange little chill spreading around his heart?
***
The exclusive Blue Lagoon club was one of the hottest hot spots in London.
The club was owned by the famous Monroe family, billionaires and phil
anthropists, and run by Charles Monroe's eldest son, Ethan.
Anastacia had frequented it a couple of times with Danni and T.C. Tonight was the first time she'd been guided into the VIP lounge. She was wearing a little VB number in black shot silk that exposed her toned arms and lean legs and on her feet were zebra skin VB four inch platform heels. Olivier was looking his awesome best dressed in a dark suit and crisp white shirt. Her man looked good enough to eat. He gave her a flash of his signature smile when she did a little shoulder shimmy to the throb of the music. Then he towed her onto the dance floor.
As Anastacia raised her arms to strut her stuff, she kept a close eye on her man. Something about his behaviour tonight was niggling her. He was acting normally, but that niggle told her he was a little distracted. Or maybe it was her imagination? Maybe she was over-analyzing things? Yep, the man didn't only have moves on the football field, he had them on the dance floor, too. Neither of them noticed a couple of doormen removing a group of gawping young girls who were taking pics of her and Olivier on their cell phones. The Blue Lagoon did their best to protect their clients' privacy. Neither of them noticed a clutch of three girls huddled together in a dark corner with their beady eyes on Anastacia, either.
"I love dancing with you." Olivier smiled down at her as he held her close. Since she saw nothing amiss as she searched those dark eyes, she smiled back. And when someone called his name, and he sent a brief look toward them, Anastacia recognized something in his eyes, just a flare of it. Something she'd only ever seen when he looked at her.
In a flash the look was gone, closed down into a distant and civil politeness. But she hadn't imagined that look. She'd most definitely seen it. Very slowly, Anastacia spanned her gaze over the people dancing... and saw her.