by Reina Torres
“You’re enjoying this.” It wasn’t a question, it was a fact. “You’re just teasing me. You don’t think I could help. You don’t think I can take care of myself. Well, I can!”
He stared back at her with obvious disbelief in his eyes. “You nearly got yourself killed because you couldn’t listen.”
She reared back as if he’d hit her.
Natale opened her mouth to speak and then stopped, mulling over her words. She didn’t like what she found.
“I was going to give you an excuse,” she told him and saw his answering look. He wasn’t going to argue. “But you’re right.” Shaking her head, she backed up until she felt the wall at her back, leaning on it for support. “I didn’t take it seriously and my cousin said she needed help. This was supposed to be her chance, you know? The business only had enough money, enough manpower to support one show. My father chose to support my Bellezza line.”
He’d moved closer, something she hadn’t noticed until that moment. “Why?”
She felt the corner of her mouth tug, giving him half a grin. “Because he saw what I did, a world that has more than one kind of beauty in it. A world that needed to see that everyone can feel as beautiful on the outside as they are on the inside. The Bellezza line makes clothes for short-waisted women, for women with curves, for all kinds of shapes. We make clothes to fit them instead of demanding that women fit our clothes.”
Uberto nodded, his eyes shrewdly assessing her. “You don’t back down, do you?”
She shook her head. “Not when I believe in something as much as Bellezza.”
Another nod. “And when it comes to keeping yourself alive?”
His tone wasn’t mean. It wasn’t cruel. It just was.
“I want to live, Uberto.” She blinked back sudden tears. “I want to live.”
He crossed the room, his broad shoulders and seemingly compact strength almost filling up the space. His movements held purpose and when he stopped, she saw what that purpose was. Reaching into the duffle bag that he’d brought with him, he took out a small hard case and set it on the table in the entryway. Looking back at her, he crooked his finger and gave her a smug grin. “Well, come over here. ‘Tore will be back here soon and he’s not going to want me around once he returns.”
She tried not to blush over the idea, lifting her chin as she started to walk. “To be honest? I won’t want you to stay around, either.”
He rolled his eyes and met her curious gaze with dark glassy eyes. “Let’s get started.”
When Salvatore returned, Valerio remained in the car, but it was still a rush of energy as Uberto gathered his things and Salvatore covered all the salient points of their walkthrough at the fashion show venue. Natale was left sitting on the couch, watching the whirlwind as it spun around her. When it was over and Uberto closed the door behind him with a none-too-subtle click, she let out a breath. “Wow.”
Salvatore turned to look at her and she stopped short, her lungs frozen, her eyes wide. His eyes were focused on her like he was ready to pounce. She felt like prey. Like he could tear her to pieces and she’d beg him to do it again. Or at least her clothes.
“Get up.”
She felt dizzy even though she was still sitting down.
And when he reached out, she put her hand in his and let him pull her up from the couch. It was only a few stumbling steps before he lifted her up with a growl and covered her mouth with his. The taste of his lips was quickly replaced with his tongue and she opened her mouth, inviting him in.
He pushed and she pulled and the two of them moved across the floor together. She followed his lead and there was a moment of clarity when she wasn’t focused on the skin that she was baring under her fumbling hands, or she wasn’t moaning as he deftly removed her clothes, that she wondered how he could so easily navigate her home with his eyes closed.
“Stop thinking so loudly. I can hear your thoughts in my head.”
She felt his hands on her hips, felt the heavy friction of their skin as he sent her clothes to the floor.
Her eyes widened as his fingertips bit into the flesh at the backs of her thighs and his hands lifted her from the floor and pulled her against him. Salvatore’s lips found her shoulder, his tongue tracing a fevered path along her collarbone, and laved the few inches to her pulse point on her neck.
He shifted again, digging his fingertips into the lush curve of her backside, pushing his body tighter against hers. Natale gave in to her needs and the eager heat between them, spreading her legs until his hard form was cradled against her softness.
She felt the warmth of his skin against her thighs and when she squirmed, she felt her own liquid heat kiss her inner thigh as he settled his mouth over her shoulder.
“Yes,” her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her fingers digging into his back, holding him securely in her embrace. “Salvatore.” He didn’t say a word in reply, growling against her skin as she felt the rough scrape of his tongue. “Take me to bed.”
He spoke, but she couldn’t make out the words from the muffled sound of his mouth as he turned to feast on the shell of her ear. Then again, it really didn’t matter to her as he managed to shove her door open and move them into her room.
She held on as he set a hand down at the edge of the bed and laid her beneath him. When he reached for the drawer in the night stand, his arousal pushed heavily against her hip and she arched against him craving more contact with his body. When he found what he was looking for, he tore the edge of the packet off with his teeth, his eyes moving over her face in a caress.
What she saw in his eyes was a promise. A promise of a blissful oblivion in his arms and a delicious ache between her thighs in the morning. And she wanted it all.
As he smoothed the condom over his erection, his knuckles traced her stomach from her belly button down. When he finished his task, he slipped his hand lower, parting her curls a moment before a twist of his wrist allowed him to push two fingers into her tight heat.
She gasped, her eyes widening as she struggled to see his face above hers in the dark of her room. “No,” she could barely catch her breath, “you. I want you inside me.”
The look on his face said he might tease her the slightest bit. His lips pulled back into a devilish grin, made more potent with the feral hunger she smelled on his skin.
“Whatever the lady wants.”
He pulled his fingers free and she found that her own body was trying to betray her. It tried to keep its grip on him, but she was glad that Salvatore had more control of his body than she had over hers.
His hands were hard at work.
A pillow under her hips.
Hands on her thighs.
Under her thighs.
Pulling her snug and tight against him.
And just when she felt that he’d never ease the greedy ache of her body, Salvatore leaned over her and thrust deep, lifting her hips from the pillow. She felt every inch of him inside, her walls gripped him, determined to keep him this time.
Shifting onto his knees, Salvatore’s hands clasped her hips and held her still. His intense gaze held her captive as he drew back from her, withdrawing until only the tip of his erection was held snug in her body.
Natale felt as if she was floating and the only thing tethering her to the earth was the man poised to make her beg and scream. It was a delicious feeling that made her head swim.
His eyes bled black as his hips shifted against her, rubbing his hard length against her clit.
She gasped, enjoying the shivers that rolled down her spine. Natale opened her mouth, prepared to beg, but before she could speak, he did. The words that spilled so easily from his lips tied her up in knots.
“I need you.”
“Then take me,” she urged him and tilted her hips, taking him deeper, “I’m yours.”
And he listened to both the message of her body and her words and took her over the edge, in the strong circle of his arms.
Natale shook awake just before m
idnight, blinking at the clock, she reached over and felt the other side of the bed. Still a little warm, she scooted over and cuddled into the pillow, drawing in a long breath. She laughed, holding the pillow tighter against her cheek. It smelled like Salvatore, clean and strong.
She missed him. Wanted him again.
The glow from the hallway cast a soft wedge of light on the floor, and she scooted to the edge of the bed on his side.
His side.
The thought made her smile. In just a few days, he’d become a part of her life. And he was a part that she didn’t want to give up, but Uberto’s words earlier in the night had struck an odd chord with her. She wanted a man who loved her with everything he was, but she didn’t want loving her to come with the kind of price tag that he’d implied. She wanted to give more than she wanted to take, and having that kind of power over someone didn’t sit well with her.
Grabbing her robe from the chair, Natale slipped it on and headed out to the main room of the apartment.
Salvatore was standing at the dining table, dressed as if he was going out, staring at a blue print of the fashion show venue with the runway and backstage marked off in precise pen. He looked up at her when she stepped up to the opposite side of the table. “Go back to bed, Principessa.”
“Not without you.”
His lips curved in the slightest of smiles. “I have a few more things to look over. You should get more sleep.”
Natale shrugged off his suggestion. “I’m good, don’t worry.”
Salvatore’s eyes narrowed on her face. “I’ll always worry. I need to take care of you and that means making sure you’re well rested.”
She laughed, a self-conscious giggle. “You certainly tired me out.”
She’d meant the words to tease, but she saw how his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched. “Salvatore, I’m fine, really. I just woke up and missed having you in bed.”
His energy didn’t relax, it tensed even more. “I hated leaving you, but I had to go over the plans for tomorrow.”
“You’ve done your work, Salvatore, and I’ve done mine. Tomorrow will go off without a hitch. You don’t have to worry so much.”
“I worry,” his voice settled over her, “because I need you to be safe.” He set his hand on the blueprints, his fingers crinkling the paper. “Humans are frail,”
“Frail?” She laughed. “Have you seen me?” Natale blushed at her own words. Of course Salvatore had seen her. He’d spent the last few days holed up in her workroom during the day and her apartment at night. And earlier that night after the first time he’d taken her over the edge, he’d seen all of her, over and over. Salvatore liked the lights on, and after she’d gotten over the fear that he’d find her body less than desirable, she’d enjoyed the lights on as well. There was something deliciously perfect about his naked body. Maybe it was just the bear in him, but there wasn’t a single inch anywhere that wasn’t amazing, or muscular, or hard. Watching him as he thrust into her body, sweat lightly coating his skin was a memory that had her shaking and ready for more.
“I’m about as ‘un-frail’ as humans get, Salvatore. Sure, I’m not going to win American Ninja or any kind of fitness show, but I’m in perfect health!” She held up her hand and ticked off her fingers as she counted. “I have the immune system of a horse. Thanks to your cooking the last few days, I feel amazing.” A shadow settled over her features and before she tried to hide it, Salvatore had already picked up on her odd mood.
“What’s wrong?”
She touched her fingers to the edge of the map. “Earlier, before you came home, I had a talk with Uberto.” Natale bit the inside of her lip, putting off the conversation for moment before she decided just to say it. “He’s worried about the danger I’m putting you in and-”
“He should mind his own business.”
She heard the hard edge in his tone. “Salvatore.”
“He’s my brother, he should know better.”
“Better than to worry about you? Of course he’s going to.”
“I decide what’s best for me. I decide what’s best for all of us.”
She put her hand on his arm and felt him tense from her touch. Then she felt his arm thicken beneath her hand and wondered what other parts of him were having the same reaction. That thought took her breath away.
Why her mind chose that moment to focus back on Uberto, she’d never know.
No, she did.
It was because even as much as she wanted to wrap herself around Salvatore and let him push all the sad stressful thoughts out of her head, she wanted to make sure he was safe and happy.
She sounded sappy and in love, exactly what she was. She was also dying to strip him naked, but she’d get there soon.
“He just worries that I’m going to hurt you because he thinks if something happens to me,” it had seemed so easy inside of her head, but once she’d opened her mouth it was a completely different story, “he told me about your parents.”
“That wasn’t his place.” Salvatore stood and started toward his phone. By the time he picked it up, Natale was at his side, taking it from his hands. “Give me my phone.”
She shook her head and hid her hand behind her back. “Then talk to me. I didn’t tell you that so you’d call your brother and rip his head off.”
Salvatore smiled and she saw the push of his fangs sliding from his gums. “I can’t do that over the phone, but I do approve of your idea.”
Natale laughed and rolled her eyes. “Funny.”
When she noticed that he wasn’t laughing, she turned to look at him. “Hey, I was joking.”
He was suddenly pressed up against her body, his arms securely wrapped around her. Natale leaned back to look at him, but his lips pressed to the soft skin just under her ear, taking advantage of the opening she gave him.
“Wow, that’s one way to distract me, why-”
He leaned back a few inches and held up his phone in his free hand.
Natale glared at him and tried to reach for it.
He tossed it over his shoulder, not even bothering to look where it landed. “I’ll talk to my brother later.”
She leaned into the kiss he pressed across her lips. “No bloodshed?”
Another kiss was her answer and the soft bite of his teeth on her bottom lip. “Not unless he tries to tell me what to do.”
Natale reached behind his neck and grabbed a hold of his collar. “Worry about that later,” she tugged him closer, enjoying the way his eyes bled black as if his bear wanted to see her too, “for now, why don’t you tell me if what he said was true. Did your father- What I mean is, did your mother’s death-”
“My parents,” he said the words with an even expression on his face, but she could hear the tension in his tone, as if she could almost feel the tightness in his throat, “my parents loved a lifetime together. When she died, it broke his heart. My father didn’t survive it.”
She started to ask him a question, but he shifted his hands lower, taking hold of the bottom of her robe. As he lifted it up he trailed his fingers along the backs of her thighs. She enjoyed the heated touch of his thick fingers and held herself as still as a statute until she felt cool air kiss her bare backside.
Shamelessly, she pressed herself into his hands and felt her breasts press against his chest. Her hands moved to his shirt, tugging at the buttons. “You’re wearing too much,” she felt the fabric give way as her fingers pushed under his shirt, brushing through the crisp hair on his chest.
“Natale,” his tone held just a hint of reproach, “I need to work.”
“Salvatore,” she turned her hand and grabbed his shirt pulling him down to her lips, “you know what you’re doing. I know what I’m doing. Come back to bed, “she gasped when he shifted a hand and trailed the tip of his finger between her legs, “show me how much you love me.”
Chapter Twelve
Boy, she smirked at the sleeping form beside her as she trailed her fingertips from his shoulder over hi
s spine and swept them into the dimple of his lower back and finally over the swell of his well-toned backside, he certainly knows how to hibernate.
Slipping free of the blankets, she shuffled into the bathroom and looked into the mirror with a smile. For the first time in years, she didn't wince or reach for a towel to cover herself up. Instead she stood there with the early light of dawn illuminating her naked body.
The person she saw standing before her wasn't a stranger. The woman in the mirror was confident, able to stand with her shoulders back and a smile on her face that wasn't an act. She could look over her bed tousled hair and flushed skin and see someone who was beautiful inside and out. And when she stood back into the light, she saw the hungry marks that Salvatore had left on her body. Her shoulders, breasts, all bore the marks of Salvatore’s mouth.
The one that caught her eye the most was the mark he’d left at the point where her neck met her shoulder. She traced it with the tip of her finger and found the skin sensitive but not painful, the memories made her shiver. Right before he fell asleep, Salvatore promised to replace the mark as soon as she was ready for him to make it permanent. When she wanted to be his forever, when she was ready to have him in her life forever, he was going to mark her, sink his teeth into her skin, leave her with no doubts that she belonged to him.
She covered the mark with her palm and let out a long breath from between her parted lips, ending in a smile. She looked at herself differently now. The rush of confidence that she felt wasn't because a man as handsome and powerful as Salvatore thought her desirable. The confidence that made her stand proud before the mirror came from within. The shy woman that worried so much about how others saw her had finally woken up and taken a good long look at herself.
And she knew that she didn’t need his mark to know where she belonged.
To know who she belonged with.
She went back to the bedroom and grabbed the edge of the blanket lifting it up to crawl back in beside Salvatore. She knew her schedule well enough that she could take a few more minutes cuddled up with him before starting her day.