Page 48 of She Belongs to Me

What he didn’t know about me was that I wasn’t the kind of woman to take anything lying down. So to speak, or in this case, literally. The act of throwing back the covers brought a slight grin to his face. His chiseled jaw allowed me to see every tiny shift in his expression.

His earlier kisses had presented his three-day stubble. I doubted he’d shaved since receiving my frantic call. Honestly? It added to the dangerous aura that trailed behind him everywhere he went. I moved onto my knees, doing nothing more than swaying my hips back and forth slowly. Evenly.

The strangled sound of his breathing was a sweet reward in a world where I doubted I’d receive but so many. I wasn’t some sexpot. I had no idea how to seduce a man. Sure, I could figure it out to some point, but that didn’t mean I was an expert.

Not my thing.

Until I met him.

Maybe the absence of light allowed me to feel courage in an area where I’d never had any. As he unzipped his trousers, I pulled off my pajama top slowly, sliding it down my chest before pitching it aside. When I reached to jerk off my ponytail holder, he growled.

“Leave it. That’s mine.”

I would never have recognized his voice had he not been standing in front of me.

“Touch your breasts.” His firm command was made with the same voice, only a touch darker if that was even possible.

I did as I was told, immediately feeling awkward. I could never be a stripper or a harlot. I had no natural moves of any kind. I’d been the awkward kid, gangly at first with dreaded braces. Yes, I’d changed physically, but I was still that girl others called ‘steel mouth’ in bullying banter.

Perhaps he sensed I felt awkward and he cocked his head. “You are beautiful. Show me you know.”

I knew no one ever ignored his commands and I certainly had no ability to do so. As he lowered his trousers past his carved hips, I cupped my breasts, trying to continue undulating my hips. Watching him undress was a powerful aphrodisiac, allowing me to feel freer, sexier.

He shifted from foot to foot in a surprising move, perhaps trying to educate me that subtle was just as provocative as crazy moves like being on a stripper pole. Although around him, I could see doing something so wild and crazy.

With his trousers and underwear removed, I was certain he’d advance, but he folded his arms, staring down at me with utter darkness surrounding him and it had nothing to do with the lack of light. He was telling me in no uncertain terms unless I obeyed him, the pleasure would be kept out of my reach.

An interesting incentive and one that worked. I closed my eyes, pretending I heard my favorite dance tune. The slight chance in my mindset allowed the girl inside to become unleashed to some degree. I could easily shift my hips back and forth to the make-believe music, caressing and squeezing my breasts at the same time.

“Pinch your nipples for me. Twist and stretch. Prepare them for my mouth.”

Every command was more provocative than the one before.

I did as I was told, the pain instant but oh-so delicious and adding to the hard throbbing in my pussy. Within seconds, my nipples were ultra-sensitive, but I continued pinching and plucking them as required.

His breathing was even more labored and I suddenly felt it cascading across my face and down my chest. I was tingling all over, shimmers of prickles appeared on my arms and dancing down my stomach. No man had ever turned me on as much as Nico had. Just his way of roughing me up and toning me down was intense, but this was something special. But perhaps something that would likely never occur again.

One taste hadn’t been enough. I’d seen it on his face when I’d placed the plate of food on his desk. His expression could be read easily. He’d wanted to rake his arm across the surface, placing me in the center for another feast.

I’d shuddered all the way to the second floor.

I wasn’t certain what he had planned or how long I could take the teasing. The need to reach out and touch him, to wrap one arm around his neck and pull him closer was almost all I could think about. The electricity was different tonight. It was almost as if he had a handle on the fiery current, able to control it and Mother Nature at the same time.

The heat of his body became even more oppressive, the crazed longing sparking a flurry of vibrant colors floating inside my closed eyelids.

“Look at me,piccolo fiore speciale. Yes, you are my special little flower. A perfect specimen on a spring day, a bud opening up to the warm sun.”

He had a way of speaking that was enthralling, even hypnotizing.

I adored every moment of his accent, the way his scalding breath skipped across my jaw. As I’d done before, I obeyed him without question, almost ready to jerk out of position to turn on a light. Yet I knew better. This moment and in this house, he was in complete control. Everything about the intensity of our building passion was special. It was something I’d never forget.

He cupped both sides of my face, the forceful rub of his thumbs jarring to my skin. The action was completely possessive, highlighting his need for me. I gripped his wrists, savoring the human contact more than I should.

The whispers dripping from his mouth were husky, sexual, and entirely in Italian; the words were so sweet yet a telling of his hunger. He became more aggressive, stretching me on my knees to the point my back ached. He was holding me in place, another reminder. A telling of what he wanted.

All of me.

Excitement tore through me, keeping my muscles tingling and my entire body quivering. I gathered more than just a whiff of my desire, my inner thighs almost slick with my juice. He lowered his head until our lips were almost touching, but held off, squeezing my face even harder. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. This was about accepting what we’d become.