“No, just you.”
“Just me what?” she asks, picking at the rip in the knee of her jeans.
“I’ve only ever taken you, piccolina. Not a bevy of women. Contrary to what you may think, I haven’t had any desire to be with a woman.”
“So, you prefer men?” she teases, and I laugh, a deep chuckle.
“No, baby. I prefer you.”
“Uh huh. Interesting. Why didn’t you just find a way to approach me like a normal man and ask me on a date?”
“Fair question. I like a challenge. I’m also not sane, Arabella, and I wanted you so badly that I didn’t even think to give you a chance to say no to me,” I explain, leaving out that I would never approach a woman I know is married, because then I’d have to tell her how I knew she was already taken.
She places her hand over her heart. “Ah, a romantic. Capture me to ensure I fall in love with you. How could a woman resist?”
Goddamn, I love her humor, but it just makes me want to fuck her over this desk.
“You’ll see. I will make all the romantic gestures, if that’s what you want.”
Arabella snorts. “It’s a little late for that.”
“No, because you see, you think you’re afraid of me. You think I’m dangerous to you and that you could never love a man who took you in the night and locked you in a tower, but I have known you less than a day, and I can already tell you that you’re wrong.”
Quirking a brow, she challenges me to continue.
“You told me you had a life before me, in which the men made you feel horrible. Like you weren’t a human. I, piccolina mia, plan to do the opposite. With me, you will feel human. With me, you will feel more alive than you ever have. You hold all the cards here; I’m just waiting for your next draw.”
She takes in a deep breath, looking me in the eye as we fall silent. Then she moves, leaving my desk and crawling into my lap, straddling me.
“Then do it. You talk a big game, but you haven’t shown me.” The challenge in her tone is unmistakable.
I grip her hair at the back of her nape and slam my lips to hers, unable to resist. My other hand grabs her ass and pulls her in closer. The second our mouths touch, I become branded with her taste. Fuck, it’s good. Sweet, like cherries. Our tongues touch and fight for more. I can’t get enough, and I bet if I were able to read her mind, she would be thinking the same thing.
“Mmm, DeLuca. Please,” she moans into my mouth, her hips grinding.
“What do you want, baby? I’ll give it to you. I want to fucking give you everything,” I tell her, pulling us apart and bringing her forehead to mine. “Huh? What do you want, Arabella?”
Her eyes well with tears, her fists gripping my shirt.
“I just want to know what it’s like to feel this. All of it.”
“Anything. Goddamn, I’d give you anything.” I bring her lips back to mine and help her grind against my hard cock. She begins to dry fuck my erection, begging in between kisses not to stop.
Is this all a dream?
Is she really telling me she wants me to give her what I keep promising?
Is she telling me she will give me all of her, not just her body?
I ask myself that over and over until she pulls back and looks me deep in the eyes.
And then it happens. Right when I think she just might tell me she’s all in, her jaw falls open, and her brows drop as she comes against my jean-clad cock, her moans like a goddamn symphony.
Holy fucking shit. The little minx used me to get off on her own.
And I can’t even be pissed.
11
Arabella
How sad is it that the best orgasm of my life was one I stole from my captor, and he hadn’t even been inside me?
Something snapped inside my mind while I descended the staircase after trying on all the clothes and letting Maxwell’s words play on repeat.
No longer would I try to escape my new gilded cage. I’m here for an unknown reason, and something tells me I should trust not only Maxwell but his boss as well. So I decided to trust DeLuca with a single part of me—my body—while the pieces of this puzzle fall where they may. He said he wouldn’t give me relief until I’m ready to give him all of me, but that just wouldn’t do. I can’t think straight enough to figure out the rest when all I can think about is my sexual attraction to the man now panting beneath me with fire raging in his eyes.
But even with his realization burning bright in his orbs that I just got off on him when he wanted to deny me release, a sexy smile tugs at one corner of his full lips. Apparently he likes this side of me, the side not vulnerable and weak but sly and able to outfox him at his own game. And for the first time in my life, I feel like I could possibly be myself for a change—not the mask I put on for everyone else but the me I keep hidden so I don’t get punished.