10 Shades of Seduction

by Tiffany Reisz

  She moaned and sunk into the kiss, her tongue meeting his, her hunger for him, not the food. He unbuttoned her jacket, sliding his hand to her waist. “Do you know why dinner before play works?” he asked when he tore his mouth from hers.

  She tried not to pant but that kiss had her burning for another. “Because no one finishes the food?”

  His lips curved wickedly. “Because living out a fantasy requires energy, and I can promise you, you’re going to need yours.” His fingers traveled to her side, barely brushing the bottom of her breast. “So eat before I don’t let you and we’ll both end up sorry you don’t have more energy later.” His lips brushed hers an instant before he slid away from her, but not too far.

  A flutter of panic overcame her. She was on unfamiliar territory. She didn’t know how to do anything beyond talking. She was good at that, at playing a certain tone or mood, because that’s what she did when negotiating, when working a case. She glanced at Dante, who was staring at her, his eyes as wicked as his body, and she was pretty darn sure that he was thinking about the after-party, not about making conversation. She was way out of her league, and it both excited her, and terrified her. “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  How much I want you. “Why this hotel for your Fantasy Island?” she asked. “And will the other two be anything like this one?”

  “Each property will be completely unique,” he said. “I’d like to buy older hotels and demolish them to build from the ground up. One of the properties will be an Italian theme and created by some of the most talented Italian architects and artists in the world. The second will have a fashion concept with some of the most exclusive shops in the world inside. And the third, the smallest, will be Fantasy Island.”

  “I can easily see the idea of Italy and fashion tying to the Ricci name, but the Fantasy Island concept? How does that connect?”

  “In Italy there’s a highly exclusive private club that caters to executives who have, shall we say, exotic tastes. There are a number of fantasy components to its operation.”

  “And you’re a member?” she asked.

  “Yes, bella,” he confirmed. “I’m a member and while Sin City plays up the visual appeal of sex, there’s nothing like that club here.”

  “I’m sure there have to be kink clubs in Vegas.”

  “Would you go to one?” he asked, as she finished her mac ’n’ cheese and pushed her plate aside.

  “No,” she said, sipping her water. “Of course not.”

  “And that’s the exact reaction of the average American,” he said. “But secretly many people are enticed by the idea of sexual exploration and when given a private, confidential and controlled experience, they are willing to climb out of their comfort zones.”

  “Then I don’t think you want to have them come here, to a restaurant,” she said, glad the effects of the champagne had worn off with food. “It feels too public and I wonder who is watching.”

  “No one is watching us,” he assured her. “There are no cameras in the dining areas but there are in the private rooms we’ll go to next. You can choose to turn them on, or leave them off, when you enter.”

  “Off,” she said quickly.

  He inclined his head. “Then we’ll turn them off.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  A buzzer sounded, different from the one that had gone off when the waiter had entered the room, and Sonya’s gaze jerked nervously toward the sound, not sure what to expect. The second door that had been closed this entire time was now cracked open.

  “Speaking of silver boxes,” he said. “It’s time to go find out what’s in ours.”

  Her heart skipped a beat and she decided the champagne brain wasn’t so bad after all. She had no idea what Dante’s version of “kink” would be and her sexual experiences had been fairly vanilla to this point. She reached for her glass and downed it. This time Dante didn’t stop her. She glanced at him. “Liquid courage. I admit it.”

  “We do nothing that makes you feel uncomfortable, bella,” he promised softly. “You have my word.”

  She searched his handsome face and saw the heat and hunger of his desire, but there was also that honesty he valued so much. He meant what he’d said. He wouldn’t push her to go places she wasn’t comfortable going. And while she didn’t kid herself into thinking she mattered beyond tonight to Dante, not personally, she knew she would feel like she mattered tonight. And that was all that concerned her right now. She was ready to embrace the escape, the fantasy that had so quickly become Dante.

  Chapter Six

  Sonya accepted Dante’s hand as she slid out of the booth. “Ready?” he asked.

  “Unless you want to pour us some more champagne?”

  “Let’s save it for later,” he suggested, pulling her close, his lips caressing hers, before he rested his forehead against hers.

  “Right,” she said, feeling herself relax into him, remarkably comfortable considering she’d only just met him. “That’s probably a good idea.”

  He laced the fingers on one hand with hers and motioned to the door. Habit made her turn to grab her purse only to realize that it was still in the car, and they weren’t going back there anytime soon. “I’d really like to get my purse first.”

  “It’s in the room,” he said. “I had it brought up before my driver left for the night.”

  “So you knew we were staying?”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “No.” She hesitated. “Maybe. Not consciously.”

  Approval flashed across his face at the admission and she wondered what made him so surprised by honesty. She let him lead her to the door. He pushed it open and motioned for her to exit first. Sonya peered through the opening, expecting a hallway, and finding what looked like an entryway to a room with a wall that blocked the rest of the suite from her sight. The lighting was dim, shadows dancing on the walls and ceiling. Somewhere in the distance candles burned vanilla and spice.

  In front of the wall was a round entry table that might have held flowers in another suite, but in this case there was the little silver box sitting on top...open and empty.

  Dante’s hands settled onto her shoulders, his powerful body framing hers. He nuzzled her neck. “I can take you home now or at any time.”

  “I’m staying,” she said, stepping forward, her high heels sinking into plush carpet. She was going to have her hot night with Dante. And it was too late to turn back anyway. The dynamic between her and Dante had been changed forever anyway.

  The door shut behind her almost immediately but she didn’t turn around. She stayed focused on the box and a large yellow envelope resting beside it.

  Dante joined her to stand in front of the table. “Let’s find out what’s in it,” he said, reaching for the envelope.

  Sonya’s gaze jerked to his. “You don’t know?”

  “Only that it has something to do with what we put in the box.”

  Nerves fluttered in her stomach, but there was excitement there too, a thrill at doing something daring, something she would never have done before meeting Dante. And also a need, a feminine burn that she’d been suppressing without realizing it, one that he had awakened.

  She wet her lips and waited as he opened the clasp on the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper, as well as a pen. He began to read. “This contract specifies that nothing that occurs from ‘blank time’ to ‘blank time’...we’re to fill in the times—” he glanced at her, then his attention returned to the paper “—will have any negative effect on Sonya Miller’s working relationship with Ricci Properties. If such damage should occur, Dante Ricci will compensate her by way of—” He glanced at her again. “Another blank for us to fill in.”

  Sonya’s stomach knotted. The contract read like bribery, like a threat, which was exactly what she didn’t want to happen. She wasn’t going to flip things and do that to him. She grabbed the paper from him and tore it up, letting it float to the ground. “That’s not what I wanted.” She whirled
around and headed for the door, reaching for the knob at the same moment that Dante gently shackled her arm and pulled her around to face him.

  “Don’t go,” he said softly, no demand in his voice, just gentle persuasion. “Not like this. Not if you really want to be here.”

  “I don’t like that contract,” she said. “I don’t like how it feels. I regret ever writing anything on that card. This isn’t what I wanted.”

  “What did you want?”

  “I don’t know but not that.”

  “I know what I want,” he said, pressing his hand to the wall by her head, his expression etched with something so raw, so animalistic, it stole her breath. “I want you and I want you in every possible way.” He leaned in, his mouth a whisper away from hers, lingering and teasing, then denying her the kiss she longed for. She all but gasped as he moved, his mouth pressing to her ear, his hand sliding under her jacket. “You have no idea of all the things I want to do to you, and with you, but you will.” His fingers traced her rib cage, his knuckles brushing her breasts, her nipples puckering with anticipation of his touch, before he added, “Right after I get you to relax.”

  “I’m not sure that’s possible,” she whispered, biting her lip as his hand covered her breast, his thumb caressing her nipple through the thin silk of her blouse.

  “I’ll take that challenge,” he murmured a moment before his mouth came down on hers, his tongue pushing into her mouth, hot, hard and demanding. It was a kiss that wiped away her doubts and left her with nothing but need and hunger and... He turned her to face the wall.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her hands pressed to the door.

  He pulled the clip from her hair, ran his hands through it and buried his face in her neck. “Relaxing you.” His fingers tugged down her skirt, sliding her zipper down.

  Her heart beat so hard she thought it might escape from her chest. “It’s not working.”

  “It will,” he assured her, tugging her jacket back off of her shoulders and tossing it aside. His hands explored her body, his thick erection settling against her backside, and somehow her shirt was unbuttoned and gone, her bra with it, replaced by his hands. He wasn’t gentle, kneading her breasts then pinching her nipples.

  She moaned as sensations rolled over her, near pain that splintered into absolute pleasure. She leaned back into him, fighting the urge to cover his hands with hers, to capture him so he wouldn’t stop. “Does it feel good, bella?”

  “Yes,” she gasped. “Yes.”

  “You’re not convincing me.” He shoved her skirt down and it fell to her ankles, leaving her in heels, thigh-highs and a thong. He lifted her slightly, seeming impatient to get rid of the skirt, and kicked it aside. He caressed her backside and she could feel his heated inspection burning her inside and out.

  She tried to turn, suddenly feeling out of control, and she didn’t do out of control well. His hand slid to her stomach, holding her in place. His teeth gently grazed her shoulder, as his hand inched downward, pressing between her thighs. He shoved aside the silk of her panties, before he teased her clit and then expertly, and oh so deftly, teased the swollen, sensitive core of her body.

  She bit her lip, burning for more, wanting to know what he would feel like inside her, and instinctively widened her stance.

  “That’s right,” he approved. “Open for me.” He pressed his mouth to her ear. “I’m going to lick you until you come and then I’ll do it all over again.” He turned her around and kissed her, devouring her with long, demanding strokes of his tongue before tearing his mouth from hers and going down on his knees. She gasped as he ripped off her panties and lifted her leg to his shoulder.

  The gasp quickly faded into a moan as one long finger, and then another, penetrated her. His mouth followed, closing down on her clit. Pleasure rushed through her, hot lava spilling over her skin, igniting every nerve ending she owned. She arched into his mouth, flattening her palms against the door, her head with them. He suckled her and licked her and pumped his fingers into her. She wanted more, she wanted to come. The burn of an orgasm threatened and she tried to hold it off, but it was there—the pleasure, the man controlling it—and it took her, conquering her resistance. Her breath lodged in her throat an instant before the spasms jerked through her body and then she grabbed at his fingers. Everything went black. There was nothing but sensation after sensation, rolling through her with such intensity that she found herself panting with completion, her knees rubbery and weak.

  Dante eased her leg down and feathered kisses over her stomach before pushing to his feet. “If you’re relaxed now,” he said, “we can get started.” He didn’t wait for an answer. He scooped her up and started carrying her away from the door.

  Chapter Seven

  The haze of orgasm fell away from Sonya as Dante carried her around the wall of the foyer area that had separated them from the rest of the suite, bringing a half-moon-shaped room into her view. To her left and her right were sheer curtains covering a space that she couldn’t make out. She wondered what kind of kink they concealed, and if she was about to find out.

  Instead, their destination was directly behind the wall where a giant mahogany bed was set on top of a pedestal, candles flickering on the nightstands and in fancy fixtures on the walls. Antique-looking hooks were part of the headboard design and so were the chains and wrist cuffs hanging from them. But it was the sight of the walls on either side of the bed that set her heart racing. Each wall held a huge display rack displaying whips, vibrators, cuffs and other items she’d never even seen before. She was crazy to think she could keep up with a man who apparently made sex a hobby. She was out of her league, so very out of her league. This wasn’t her world, she wasn’t the kind of woman he was used to, and it was intimidating.

  Dante set her on top of the pedestal facing the bed, where she found a leather whip and handcuffs laid out. “I assume you requested those?” he asked, his hands on her hips. “Just so you know, that’s not going to happen.”

  “I thought this was my fantasy,” she argued because despite her complete relief at his words, the premise of this experience was choosing a fantasy. That and she could think of plenty to do to Dante once she chained him to the headboard.

  He turned her to face him, his hands on her shoulders. His gaze raked hungrily over her body before lifting. “Have you ever had a BDSM experience?”

  “No, but—”

  “And you think I want you to try it with whips that you use on me?”

  “Well, I don’t want you to use them on me,” she protested.

  A low rumble of laughter rolled from his lips and he kissed her, one hand settling possessively on her bare backside. “You do know how to surprise me. You don’t dive into BSDM hardcore, bella, so why don’t we rethink your fantasy?”

  She wet her lips. “I’d be okay with that.”

  “Good,” he said. “Then give me control. Just let go of everything and do what I say. You will be shocked at how much you will like putting your pleasure in someone else’s hands. No thinking. No positioning yourself like you have to in business. Just pleasure.”

  “I’m not good at giving away control.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  “You keep saying that.”

  “Because I mean it, and look at it this way. My sole purpose will be pleasing you.”

  “What’s in it for you then?”

  “My fantasy was—is—your submission. I’d like it to be yours, as well.”

  “That’s what you wrote on that card?”

  “I told them to get your purse.”

  She gaped. “You told them to get my purse and I wrote about sex?”

  “I can handle my own fantasies. The question is—can you handle your fantasies?” He ran his fingers down a strand of her hair. “Give me control. I’ll be gentle.”

  She squeezed her thighs together against the growing ache there. She couldn’t stand there much longer, naked, without him touching her. “What if I don�
�t want to do something?”

  “Tell me. Communicate. But when you say ‘no’ it’s ‘no,’ so be sure you mean it.”

  Why was the idea of him in control far more arousing than she ever believed possible? “Yes. Okay.”

  “Yes what?”

  “I agree.”

  “You know what I want you to say.”

  She inhaled and let it out. “You’re in charge.”

  Satisfaction darkened his stare. “And if you don’t want to do something?”

  “I say ‘no.’”

  “Good,” he said, roughly twining his fingers into her hair and piercing her with a possessive stare. “Then you’re mine for the night.” His mouth closed down on hers, a fierce claiming that echoed his words and tore through her like lightning.

  She was panting when he pulled back. “Tomorrow morning—”

  “Doesn’t exist,” he said. “Stop thinking.” His gaze dropped to her chest, his hand caressing her. “You have beautiful breasts, beautiful plump red nipples.”

  She was starting to feel weak in the knees again.

  “Do you like to have them licked?” he asked.

  “Dante—”

  “Answer.”

  She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  “And do you want me to touch them?”

  She nodded, then whispered. “Yes.”

  “Show me how you want me to do it.” He pressed her hands to her breasts, his over hers. “Show me.” He kneaded her breasts with their hands, leaning in to kiss her neck, and trailed his mouth, his teeth, along the sensitive flesh until he whispered in her ear, “You smell almost as good as you taste.” He eased her down onto the bed, going down to a knee in front of her, and licked the nipple her parted fingers exposed. She moaned at the wet warm friction and he kissed her, swallowing the sound before murmuring, “Show me how you like to be touched and fucked, but don’t come. I’m the only one who gets to make you come.” He stood up and stepped off the podium, toeing off his shoes.