Chapter Eight
Trust. The word replayed in Sonya’s head, the word that she’d already come to know was so important to him. He wanted her trust. She wanted his. She softened at his voice. “I do. I trust you.” And strangely, in that moment, having only just met him, she knew she meant it.
He studied her a long moment and then stepped back, shrugging out of his shirt as he did. His body was all the inspiration she needed. He was rippling muscle, broad and defined, well-honed with hard work.
“Squeeze your breasts together and pinch your nipples.”
She did as he said, squeezing herself and rubbing, feeling the inhibition beginning to fade just from the lone simple act.
“Now your pussy. Get it ready for me.”
She pressed her hand between her legs and watched as dark desire slid over his features. It aroused her, seeing him react that way, that it pleased him. She didn’t remember ever wanting to please a man as she did this stranger. She pressed her fingers into the wet heat of her body, spreading the wetness, thinking of his cock inside her.
He said something in Italian, low and guttural, but her gaze locked on the sexy dark line of hair running from his navel to— He shoved his pants and underwear down and completed her sentence. The line went straight to his cock. His very large, very thick cock. The man was gorgeous and hard and all hers.
He pointed to the floor in front of him. “Here.”
She kicked off her shoes and wasted no time complying. She walked toward him, aware that his eyes followed her bouncing breasts. She would have dropped to her knees, but he captured her hand and suckled her fingers into his mouth. Her pussy clenched with the memory of him licking her and tasting her.
He pressed her to her knees and she went gladly, wrapping her hand around the thickness of his erection. Pearly liquid pooled at the tip of his shaft. “Lick it off.”
She glanced up at him and snaked her tongue out, stealing the salty wetness and moaning with the intimate taste of him. The pure lust in his expression made her want to shove him down and ride him. She ran her tongue around him and moaned with how much she wanted him.
“Take me in your mouth,” he ordered. “Suck me.”
She closed her lips around him, drew him in. His hand went to the back of her head, urging her to take him all. She tightened her hand around him and started a slow glide up and down his shaft. He pulsed in her mouth, his hips moving with her.
“That’s it.” His voice was low, guttural. “Harder. Suck me harder.” He pumped faster, his hand twining in her hair, the urgency in him pounding through her, until he stiffened and shook.
She slowly eased the pressure on his cock, adjusting her pace, suckling him dry until he completely stilled. She leaned back on her heels and he pulled her to her feet, picked her up and carried her to the bed, where he set her down on the end of the mattress. He reached into a drawer at the foot of the bed and pulled out a velvet bag.
“What is it?” she asked.
He dumped a piece of gold jewelry onto his palm. “Your introduction into a new kind of pleasure. It’s a nipple-and-clit clamp and the only jewelry you’ll ever want to wear again.”
“I bet you try to tell all the girls that,” she said, more than a little curious, and aroused, by this new turn of events.
“The proof is in your reaction,” he assured her. “Lean back on your hands.”
She did as he said, no longer feeling even slightly self-conscious about her breasts being thrust into the air. He tossed the empty bag on the bed and uncurled the long strands of gold chain before going down on a knee again in front of her. He pressed her knees apart, and trailed the chain up one of her thighs, until it dangled in the V of her body.
“Is it going to hurt?”
“No,” he said, stroking the wet silk of her body, and a dull throb of need began to form. “It’s like the pressure from a deep massage. You want it to stop but you’re so glad when it doesn’t.” He leaned in and gave her clit a long lick, tricking her into relaxing, and then immediately replaced his tongue with the snap of the clamp.
She gasped at the pressure. He tugged the chain, and her muscle clenched. She sucked in air. “Oh, that is… I don’t know.”
His lips lifted evilly, sexily. “You’ll get used to it.”
He dragged the other half of the chain up her stomach, leaving chill bumps in its wake, but when he was about to attach a clamp to one of her nipples, she had a moment of panic.
Sonya sat up and covered her breast. “It’s going to hurt.” He moved her hand and cupped her breast, then tugged on her nipple and the chain at the same time.
“That’s-” She lost the sentence, no idea what she’d been about to say because he pinched both of her nipples, twisting them, tugging on that chain. Her lashes fluttered, delicious sensation rolling through her.
“Does that hurt?” he asked, licking one of the hard peaks.
She panted. “In a good way.”
He slid his hand into her hair, brushed his mouth over hers. “The clamp will be similar. A pinch that turns to pleasure. And I won’t put it on too tight.”
“Okay.”
He closed one of the clamps down on her nipple, and at first it wasn’t bad, but then he adjusted it, tightened it, and she didn’t like it. “Dante-” His mouth closed down on her other nipple, stealing her objection as he suckled her deeply, pulling roughly on the swollen peak, until she was moaning, all pain forgotten. Only then did he clamp that nipple, and this time, tightening it felt good. A pinch and then pleasure.
His hand slid back to her face and he kissed her, a gentle kiss that defied the bite of the clamps, his tongue making love to her, caressing her. She moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck, needing him now. He deepened the kiss, that primal male side of him she found so hot, seeping into it, until he was outright claiming her again as she wanted to be. He tugged on the chain and she gasped with the pain splintering through her nipples, and her pussy clenched.
“Oh, God,” she moaned. “I’ve never felt anything like this.”
“Turn onto your knees. That’s the best way to feel the tug of the clamps when I’m inside you.” He didn’t wait for her reply. He stood and turned her himself, pressing her knees to the mattress. She went down on her hands, even as he lifted her ass high in the air. She heard the tear of the condom package only seconds before his hands were on her hips, and his cock, his blessed cock she’d been waiting for, finally pressed between her legs.
He ran his shaft through the slick wet heat of her body over and over, driving her wild with anticipation. She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Please. Dante.”
He laughed, a low, deep, sexy sound she could get used to hearing often. It was a random thought, lost when he entered her, taking his time to sink deep, until he was buried to the hilt.
His first pump was a slow in-and-out, but her breasts swayed with the action, the clamps tugging on her. She gasped and then moaned as Dante slammed into her and began to pump. Sensations rolled through her and it was then that she gave Dante exactly what he’d asked for. She forgot to think and gave herself to the pleasure and to him.
Chapter Nine
The room was dark when Sonya woke, but she was pretty sure it was morning because the suite had no windows for light, and it had been somewhere around four when she had collapsed from exhaustion. She was on her stomach, her body sweetly aching all over, and she smiled when she realized that Dante’s arm was across her waist. Sleeping with him somehow felt more intimate than the many intensely erotic things they’d done the night before, though they’d been as intimate as it was possible to be, that was for sure. She sighed and let her eyes start to drift closed when she suddenly realized today was Thursday, and a workday.
Work. Oh, God. She pressed upward on her hands, trying to see the c
lock she thought was by Dante’s bedside, but she was trapped under his big body. For once, that wasn’t a good thing.
He lifted his head, his hair mussed up and sexy, his dark eyes laden with sleep. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t see the clock. I think I might be late to work.”
“You’re not,” he said, and laid his head down. “Go back to sleep.”
“Dante,” she said, shoving his arm. “What time is it?”
He sighed and lifted his head toward the clock before turning back to her. “Ten.”
“No! Tell me it’s not.” She tried to get up but he was still holding her down with his leg. “Move. Move. I have to get up. I need a phone. I-”
Dante turned her to her back, and pulled her underneath him. “It’s ten in the morning. Panic will not change that.”
She shoved on his big, broad, unmoving chest. He was naked and she could feel his erection pressing her leg. “I have to get up,” she said not sounding nearly as convincing as she thought she would.
“No, you don’t,” he said. “I woke up early and had the contract, along with the retainer, delivered to your office. I also included a message that you were attending an early morning meeting with me. Problem solved.”
A moment of stunned disbelief quickly transformed into anger. “You should have asked me before you did that. Dante, this is not a bedroom game. This is my career and when you’re gone, when this project with you is over, I don’t want my job to be as well.”
“I’ll take care of that SOB Michael. I’ll take care of you. Nothing bad is going to happen.”
“I don’t want to be taken care of. I take care of myself. And that SOB is my boss at one of the best firms in the city, in the whole United States. Don’t do this. Don’t make last night impact today. You said it wouldn’t impact today.”
He studied her a long moment. “You’re pissed.”
“Yes. I’m pissed.”
“You’re really pissed.”
“Yes!”
His brows dipped. “I didn’t expect that.”
“Well you should have because—”
He kissed her, his tongue pressing past her teeth, his mouth slanting over hers, possessive and hot with demand. She tried to resist, she even tried to press on that unmoving chest of his, but her body betrayed her, and her arms wrapped his neck, her tongue tangling with his.
“I have a confession,” he said, when he tore his mouth from hers.
“I’m not sure I want to know what it is.”
“I never mix business with pleasure. As in, ever. It’s dangerous and a disaster ready to happen.”
Those words slammed into her with the implication but she tried to act unaffected. Tried to be unaffected. “Is this where I point out that I am naked and so are you?”
“That’s the point,” he said. “I walked into that conference room yesterday expecting to hire a killer shark for an attorney. The minute you looked at me, I saw something beyond beauty and skill, something wild and passionate, and different. Something I had to experience for a night, which brings me to another confession. I don’t stay the night with a woman, I don’t wake up next to her.”
Her chest tightened. He’d gotten out of bed and come back to bed with her and that realization had her shaking inside, confused, aroused, angry, and there was something else, something unfamiliar, something she didn’t want to feel for this man. She rejected all of these feelings, and reached for some kind of control. “Ever?”
“Not for a very long time.”
Their eyes locked and held, and her hand heated where it rested on his chest. He wasn’t what she’d expected. This wasn’t what she expected. “What are we doing, Dante?”
“I say we figure that out in the shower, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll try over lunch. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll just have to get creative.” Before she knew his intent, he’d scooped her up and was carrying her again. She told herself right then, to enjoy the sex, enjoy the moment, but not to fall for Dante, not to get distracted from her career, and the security she was building for her and her mother. That was her plan. This time she was sticking to it.
Several minutes later, she was standing in the hot stream of water pouring from the gold showerhead with Dante, who was hard and hot and so very perfectly male, pressing her against the wall, and she was absolutely enjoying the sex, the man, the moment. She was going to make this plan work, one lick and touch, and taste, at a time.
* * *
After a very long, very enjoyable shower, Sonya stood in the bathroom with a hotel robe wrapped around her, and finished drying her hair. Dante had dressed before her to join a conference call he’d scheduled days before. She opened her purse, and quickly applied makeup, listening to the muffled sound of Dante speaking in Italian somewhere in the suite. Her stomach growled and she exited the bathroom that lead directly into the bedroom where they’d slept, to find several dresses laying on the bed and a few bags beside them.
Sonya’s stomach clenched, and she walked toward them, to grab the note on top.
Bella—I wanted you to have a change of clothes and wasn’t sure what you liked so I had the hotel boutique bring you a variety.
Emotion rushed over Sonya, emotions she tried to avoid, tried never to deal with. But they were there, balled up in her chest and stomach, created by memories of her elitist Harvard professor father, who resented every dime he’d ever paid in child support for a daughter he never wanted. And her mother, who’d foolishly let him in and out of her bed, like that would change things. Sonya dropped the note and walked to the phone, punching a button and arranging to have the clothes returned.
Ten minutes later, she could still hear Dante talking in what she thought was a small office area off the suite while she searched for her shoes, and decided to try the blankets on the bed, no matter how illogical it seemed. She was out of options. A knock sounded at the door and she struggled to toss the heavy comforter out of her way. She managed to get to the door right as Dante shut the door and turned to her.
His dark gaze, a striking contrast to his navy blue dress shirt, swept over her wrinkled clothes and back to her face. “Why would you return my gifts?”
“I like my things,” she said. “My clothes. I don’t want you to spend money on me.”
“Money isn’t an issue.”
“Not to you,” she said, curling her arms in front of her. “But it is to me. I make my money. I spend my money. I don’t spend yours.”
He walked to her, pure male elegance with a primal edge, as if he were stalking his prey and that prey was her. He stopped in front of her, close, so close. So tall that he towered over her. “I was going to ask you what drives you, what motivates you to work so hard, but I think I have my answer. You depended on someone who let you down.”
That he saw through her surprised her, and she instantly deflected. “And someone you trusted let you down.”
“More than one,” he said. “But yes. There was someone who opened my eyes. I was young and thought I was in love. We were going to be married and I caught her in bed with an employee. She wanted my money, not me.”
She was shocked, not as much by the content of the story, but that he’d told her.
“Your turn,” he said softly.
“My father,” she said. “He’s a Harvard law professor.”
“And you graduated from Brown.”
“That would be why. He resented every dime he ever spent on me. My mom struggled, she still does. I don’t plan to let her for much longer.”
“I’m surprised you went to law school considering who he is.”
She laughed, but not with humor. “I think a part of me wanted to show him up. It’s that old saying—’those who can do and those who can’t teach.’”
They were still standing
there in the middle of the suite, not touching, not moving. He reached for her, his fingers lacing with hers. “Come here.”
There was such understanding and tenderness in his voice that she melted into him, needing him even when she’d just denied needing anyone.
He wrapped her in his strong arms, and ran his hand down her hair. “I understand why you don’t want the clothes but-” She started to object but pressed his fingers to her lips. “Consider this a gift to me. I’m starving. Pick what you want and we’ll return the rest if you want and then let’s go eat. Afterward, I’ll take you to my home office and show you the architectural models for the properties.” He smiled. “Maybe after that, we can talk through how to improve the silver box concept.”
This was when she should just say ‘no,’ where her plan dictated that be her answer. But standing there, in Dante’s arms, she felt something she’d never felt and everything inside her told her to gamble on him. She drew a breath and before logic could defeat her, she lifted to her toes and kissed him before saying, “Yes.”
Chapter Ten
Three weeks later, Sonya sat at her kitchen table for the first time since meeting Dante, pouring over a counteroffer they’d received on the Bell’s property. Missing him. She missed Dante. She didn’t want to miss him and that was why she’d made an excuse about going into her office for some meeting and then staying at her house, instead of his. She’d tried to pretend it wasn’t because he was headed back to Italy for a month, but it was. The news had hit her hard after letting herself say yes to his bed, to his life, to his leather cuffs and sex games, and even to his plea that they try to recreate his mother’s meatball recipe. She laughed at that memory. They’d made a mess of his sparkling white kitchen and ended up ordering pizza.
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