My Italian Beast (Part One)

by Marian Tee

  I hesitated then reached for his hand to give it a comforting squeeze. “I’m really sorry, Marcus.”

  Something flickered in his eyes, and I couldn’t understand what it was until he spoke in a tight voice---

  “Thank you.”

  A memory drifted back into my mind, of that day we spent in Alfred’s, and he had allowed me a glimpse of his past.

  I want to be friends with you because looking at you…is like having a personal reminder that the world isn’t bad.

  That time, I had tried to push him into saying more, but he had shut himself down almost right after.

  That time, he had a look on his face---

  And it was the same look I saw on his face now, only this time he was doing his best to let me in.

  When he carefully pulled his hand away from my hold, I let him, knowing instinctively that this time it was his pain he was distancing himself from – and not me.

  “I told her about you, you know.”

  Oh.

  “She wanted to meet you.”

  “I would have wanted to meet her, too.”

  He nodded jerkily. “I knew you would.” His fists clenched. “She was the only one who cared for me.”

  I slowly shook my head. “That’s not true.”

  He laughed humorlessly. “How do you know?”

  “Because – you have your friends.”

  His gaze just bored through me, reminding me without words that he wasn’t exactly the most reliable friend to have around.

  “Well.” I couldn’t help but sound defensive. “You’re a good friend to my brothers, aren’t you? And they’re good friends to you, too. So yes, they’re some of the friends who care about you. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Marcus’ tone was mockingly obedient, but the look in his eyes remained inscrutable, and I knew a part of him was still locked in isolated darkness.

  “T-there’s more,” I blurted out, desperate to convince him that he was not alone.

  “Let me guess.” His tone was dry. “Fleur cares about me, too?”

  “Well, yes, but---” I pointed at myself, saying awkwardly, “There’s also me?”

  Marcus stilled.

  I said more firmly, “You have me---”

  “Do I?”

  I blinked. Hadn’t I just said so?

  “Do I have you?”

  This time, I finally noticed his too-soft tone, his narrowed eyes, and the sudden tension in the air.

  Oh.

  I reared back.

  Oh.

  “Do I have you, Anneke?”

  Chapter Nine

  A lady’s imagination was supposed to be very rapid, I thought absently, which meant I was either the exception to the rule – or I had known this was coming but pretended not to.

  As always.

  The air inside the tiny cottage was rife with tension, but what made it unbearable was how sexual it was, and the way it contaminated everything in the room was terrifying. The cottage no longer felt cozy and warm. Now it felt hot and claustrophobic, more and more so with each second.

  “Anneke.”

  Crap. Oh no. Oh crap.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, but it was no use. I could still hear the way Marcus said my name, and it still sounded too sensual, too beautiful, too right.

  “Answer me.” His voice had turned guttural. And then he was cupping my chin, making me facehim---

  His touch made me ache.

  Oh God.

  It had been so long.

  “Do I have you?”

  All the years that had gone by faded, and it suddenly felt like it was only yesterday that I had last touched him, only yesterday that he had last touched me.

  In that moment, I suddenly remembered how he made me feel---

  Oh how vividly I remembered, and I felt bad-girl-Anneke slithering into life inside of me, whispering one word.

  More.

  My gaze slowly met Marcus’, and I almost whimpered at the lust that glittered in his eyes.

  This was bad. This was wrong. But this was also what I wanted.

  “I’m yours---”

  Marcus sucked in his breath.

  And I heard myself whisper, “I’m yours…any way you want.”

  His eyes widened.

  Crap. Oh God. Crap. What had I just said? Crap.

  But even so, I found myself moving towards him---

  “Anneke.” My name came out in a low rasp as I touched his chest.

  My hand came to rest against his hard, smooth body, and I exerted just enough pressure to let him know what I wanted him to do.

  Marcus heeded the silent request, slowly leaning back against the couch while his narrowed dark eyes remained on my face.

  My hand slowly traveled down.

  “Marcus.” His name came out a purr---

  Oh my God. Crap. Oh God. Was that really my voice?

  He jerked.

  Crap, oh, crap, why I really going to do this?

  Marcus caught my hand just when I reached for his belt.

  I licked my lips.

  He cursed.

  His grip on my wrist tightened. “Do you really want to do this?”

  “D-don’t you want me to?”

  His fingers slowly loosened, and I had my answer.

  Oh my God, crap, someone stop me.

  Moving back, I knelt down on the rug, my body fitting in the space between his legs. When I reached for his belt again, a part of me expected Marcus to say no, to stop me---

  Please stop me.

  But he did none of those.

  I started to unzip him.

  Please stop me.

  But even though I felt him tense and I heard him draw his breath---

  Oh my God, stop me!

  All he said was, “You’ve changed.”

  I heard bitterness and regret, and something else. Something I couldn’t explain, but it was enough for my hands to go still, and I held my breath, asking shakily, “H-have you changed your mind then?”

  His eyes blazed. “Fuck no.”

  Oh, thank God!

  No!

  I meant, oh no!

  Marcus’ dark eyes continued to follow my now-trembling hands as I once again reached for his zip. “Are you nervous?”

  “Yes.” My voice was strained. “It’s been…a while.”

  Like nine-years-kind-of-while.

  I carefully pulled his zip down, and my heart started to beat a familiar rhythm---

  Crap. This was really going to happen. Crap.

  Fast, hard, and erratic---

  Crap, crap, crap.

  And then I was pulling Marcus’ cock out---

  Crap. Oh crap. Oh God. Oh crap.

  Although Marcus had let me touch him once, it had only been over his pants. I hadn’t actually seen his erection until now---

  Craaaaaaaaap.

  And it was huge. It was really huge.

  “You know you can do more than stare, don’t you?” Marcus’ tone was harsh, and the sound made me recover myself.

  Right. Do more than stare. Crap. Could I really do more than stare?

  Taking a deep breath, I started to stroke him, and my eyes widened when Marcus’ cock actually became harder and larger---

  How much bigger could his cock get?

  I heard Marcus choke.

  Oh!

  Had I accidentally said the words out loud?

  When my eyes jerked to his, he rasped out, “Try finding out with your mouth.”

  Riiiiight.

  My mouth.

  Riiiiight.

  The thought of his cock in my mouth made my body tremble and ache, and all of a sudden there was nothing I wanted more.

  I hadn’t ever done anything like it, but it couldn’t be that hard to do. Right?

  I slowly lowered my head, and up close his cock looked even more intimidating.

  It was just so…big, and my panties slowly became drenched at the thought.

  Opening my mouth as wide as I could, I carefull
y swallowed him whole.

  He groaned, and it was the sweetest and most arousing sound I had ever heard.

  Inch by inch, I took more of him in, but no matter how much care I had exercised, I wasn’t able to prevent my throat from suddenly tightening---

  My gag reflex kicked in, and I began to choke.

  “Rilassatti, bambina.” His fingers wrapped gently around my throat just before slowly stroking the soft skin. “Relax your throat and take your time. Bene?”

  I tried doing it again, heeding his advice, and this time his cock slid all the way in.

  Marcus groaned.

  I began to suck, and he groaned again.

  His fingers drove through my hair, and my pussy quivered.

  My head began to bob as I sucked on his cock, and the raw, earthy sounds of Marcus’ pleasure rebounded inside the cottage.

  It was the most erotic sound in the world, and my breasts started to swell and ache.

  Marcus’ grip tightened on my hair as he began to guide me, letting me know the rhythm he wanted. I followed his command blindly.

  He wanted it faster, and so my head bobbed faster over his cock.

  He wanted me to suck harder, and so I sucked on his cock as hard as I could.

  And when he asked hoarsely, “Can I cum in your mouth?”

  I answered the only way I knew how, squeezing his cock with both of my hands, telling him without words---

  Give me everything.

  Marcus’ hips thrust up.

  A moment later and he was cumming in my mouth with a hoarse cry.

  He fucked my mouth hard, and there seemed no end to the hot, sticky substance that poured down my throat.

  Forever seemed to have gone past before his fingers finally loosened from my hair, and I slowly released his cock.

  It came out with a popping sound that made me turn red and Marcus’ eyes lazily drift open.

  I rocked back on my ankles, and as our eyes met---

  Reality slapped me in the face.

  Crap. Oh crap. Crap oh crap.

  Did I really---

  Had I just---

  I rose clumsily to my feet. “I gotta blow.”

  Marcus raised a brow. “Is that so?”

  “Yes, really---” My last words replayed in my mind and I yelped.

  Crap.

  “I meant I gotta go.”

  And without looking back, I dashed out of the cottage, walking away as fast as I could.

  Seriously Anneke?

  You gotta BLOW?

  When I made it back to the parish, Fleur spotted me first and hurried towards me. “Where have you been? We’ve been---” Her voice faltered. “Oh. Umm.”

  Our brothers were right behind her, and Willem was the first one to reach us.

  Fleur paled, and I frowned. What was happening?

  Willem glanced at me, and his face became cold. “We should go.”

  I thought about asking what was wrong but when I saw my two other brothers become expressionless upon seeing me, I knew that something was up.

  “Okay,” I said meekly.

  We piled inside the limousine, with my brothers sharing in one row while Fleur and I sat opposite them.

  As soon as the door slammed shut, Jaak handed me a handkerchief.

  I accepted it, bewildered, even as I blurted out, “But I didn’t cry.”

  “No.” Jaak’s tone was ironic. “I’m sure you didn’t, but I’m just as sure someone else did though.”

  Nic looked pained. “Echt, Jaak?” Really, Jaak?

  And now I was even more confused.

  Fleur seemed to take pity on me. “Anneke.” She leaned close, whispering to my ear, “You have something on your face.”

  I frowned. “Where?”

  She pointed to the corner of my mouth.

  I touched the spot, and my fingers encountered something really…sticky.

  My brothers stared at me.

  And I slowly covered my mouth with a handkerchief.

  I began to rub.

  My brothers simultaneously winced.

  “I’m an adult,” I told them stiffly, trying to brazen it out.

  “Clearly.” Willem’s tone was frigid.

  Fleur choked back a laugh.

  And then another.

  And another.

  Until Fleur and Jaak were both laughing, and even Nic unbent enough to grin.

  Willem sighed, and the others started laughing again.

  My moment of brazenness expired, and I covered my face with both hands.

  Oh my God.

  My whole family knew I had just given Marcus Ravelli a blowjob.

  When my phone beeped, Jaak asked slyly, “Up to making another guy cry again?”

  Moron. Jaak was such a moron. But even so, it didn’t stop me from checking my phone.

  Marcus: When can we meet again?

  Chapter Ten

  Marcus Ravelli was indeed personally waiting at the steps for me when the limousine slowed to a stop in front of his corporate headquarters. It made me feel very special, but it did make me wonder if it was just an Italian thing or he was just, I don’t know, excited about…the merger?

  Marcus opened the door for me, and for one moment I had a completely unobstructed, close-up view of him. He was dressed in a gray two-buttoned jacket over a shirt and pants, and I realized it was my first time to see him dressed in corporate in person. He looked sophisticated, breathtakingly so, and my heart started acting crazy again.

  Can’t you be still just once, heart?

  I placed one trembling hand in his and let Marcus gently draw me out. I had a fleeting glimpse of paparazzi behind him as I got to my feet. But then Marcus stepped into my line of vision and he was once again everything all I could see.

  “Ciao, bambina.” A wicked little gleam in his dark eyes accompanied the softly spoken words, and I suddenly had a premonition.

  Oh no. Oh crap. He was planning to do something again---

  He lowered his head, and I automatically turned my cheek towards him even as my toes curled hard inside my kitten heels. But then I felt him cup for my chin, and my brows furrowed as Marcus turned my face towards him.

  “I don’t under---”

  His lips covered mine.

  Oh.

  The kiss was over before it began, but it was more than enough, and when he pulled away I could only gaze at him, speechless, lightheaded, and even more shaken than before. What was that?

  Marcus’ hand, which hadn’t released my fingers all this time, tugged me towards him. He led, and I followed, always ending up like a docile little lamb in his presence. We walked past paparazzi, all of them still taking photos and throwing us questions, and I automatically lowered my head to avoid their gazes.

  Lowering his head to me, Marcus asked softly, “Are you ashamed to be seen with me?”

  My head jerked up. “Of course not!” And then I caught sight of his grin and realized he had just been teasing. “Marcus!”

  His nostrils flared.

  Oh.

  The look of raw desire in his face made my entire body tremble, and I found myself mute with helpless desire.

  “It’s been too long,” he muttered roughly under his breath, and his fingers released its grip on my hand. A second later his arm slowly curled around me, his fingers tightening around my waist.

  He squeezed my waist hard, his touch burning my skin and leaving an undeniable, wordless message for my body to absorb.

  I want to fuck you.

  I’m going to fuck you.

  I won’t stop fucking you until we both pass out.

  It was the most unbelievable promise, and my limbs became wooden in shock as we entered his building.

  Marcus glanced at me, surprised. “Why are you marching?”

  I looked down at my legs, aghast.

  I was marching!

  He had me so flustered by his – by his intentions over a merger – that I had ended up marching without even knowing it. In the corner of m
y eye, I saw Marcus’ broad shoulders rocking with silent laughter, and I lifted my chin up in the air even as my face burned.

  Crap. Just…crap.

  As soon as we entered the elevator, Marcus didn’t bother hiding his laughter. “What was that about?”

  I ignored him, or at least I tried to, but then he pulled me towards him, asking, “Was it because I made you nervous?”

  My lip curled, but he only grinned. “No?” He pushed me against the wall, purring, “How about aroused then?”

  He ground his body harder against mine, and I gasped. “Marcus---”

  His eyes glittered.

  Crap.

  Marcus’ head lowered.

  “Anyone could come in,” I hissed.

  “I know.” And his head kept lowering. “And that’s half the fun.” His breath fanned my skin. “Isn’t it?”

  Oh…yes. Crap. I meant oh…no.

  My eyes drifted closed.

  But nothing happened.

  I heard the elevator chime upon arriving at the penthouse floor, and when I opened my eyes, Marcus was pulling away from me with a grin.

  Oh!

  He moved away, and while still plastered against the wall, I found myself staring at his entire executive staff, all of them waiting in attention outside the elevator.

  Crap.

  I automatically straightened and flashed them a polite smile. “Buongiorno.” I tried to keep my hand from shaking as I tucked my hair behind my ears.

  “Everyone, I’m sure you don’t need any introductions to Anneke de Konigh, DKE’s vice-president.”

  His staff greeted me formally, and I nodded and smiled, pretending I didn’t notice the curious looks on their faces.

  Marcus took my hand. “Andiamo, bambina.” He led me to his office, located at the end of the hall, and as he closed the door behind us I gazed at my surroundings, more than a little surprised. I had expected manly and earthy tones from him, probably because of his Italian descent, but instead Marcus’ office was a mixture of futuristic and minimalist, with shiny white walls blending with glass, leather, and stainless steel furniture.

  “Please have a seat, bambina.” His gaze followed my every move, and when I settled on one of the large swivel chairs in front of his massive frameless table, he drawled, “I can see the appearance of my office surprises you.”

  “Just a bit,” I admitted. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t find it lovely. Because it is.” I paused. “And it makes sense, when I think about it.”