Brielle gasped and looked up at him, her eyes dark with both desire and panic. Her thigh rubbed against his, her legs moving restlessly as she tried to ease the burning between her legs. Her gaze dropped to the bulge pressing hard against the front of his trousers. He took her hand and brought her fingertips to his mouth, biting down on the tips, slowly and gently at first, but increasing the pressure until there was a decided sting.
“Your computer skills,” Val said. “We’ve been looking for someone to work for us, and if you really are able to match Bernado, we’d like to interview you for a job if you’re looking for one. I know Stefano is going to try to grab you, but before you agree to work for him, at least hear us out.”
Elie deliberately sucked her stinging fingers into the heat of his mouth and then pulled his hand down to his thigh. Up high. Very high. Toward the inside of his thigh so the tips of her fingers touched his bulging shaft. Using her fingers, he began to rub his shaft gently through the material of his trousers.
“I, um. I . . .” Crimson heat crept up Brielle’s neck into her face. With her free hand she reached up to push at her wild mane of hair. The action lifted her breasts, thrusting them against the tiny buttons of her blouse.
Elie leaned in close, his much larger body effectively blocking out hers from the sight of the others in the room. “Valentino and Dario have been looking for someone to help them for a while now.” He lowered his voice, putting his lips against her ear. “Mon petit jouet très sale.”
His fingers managed to ease open that offending top button and then swipe over the curve of her breasts. He wanted to curl his tongue over the hard peaks of her nipples. He called her his dirty little sex toy in his compelling voice on purpose, tempting her with dark fantasies. He wanted to see how she responded to him talking dirty to her with others around. “You’ll give them a fair chance at hiring you, won’t you?”
She nodded, clearly unable to speak, stark arousal in her vivid green eyes.
“She said yes, Valentino,” Elie reported. “Now go away. We’re on our honeymoon.”
Dario made some sound that might have been a snicker. Elie didn’t look up. He heard the door close and immediately turned so that he faced her. “Open the buttons of that blouse. I’m very fond of it, bébé, and I don’t want to tear it. I think it would look particularly nice with a dark bra under it. What do you think?”
His hands parted her thighs wide and massaged the inner muscles while he waited for her shaking hands to slip the buttons free.
Her eyes on his, she nodded.
“Answer me out loud, I want to hear the sound of your voice.” He pushed a firm command behind the velvet over steel.
“Yes. I agree with you. It would look very nice.”
“Then from now on, when you wear this blouse, a favorite of mine, you can wear your lacy black bra and leave the top three buttons open for me. It’s so fucking sexy, Brielle. Take it off and fold it neatly. I like the house neat. Take your bra off as well.”
He rose and walked across the room to the fireplace, keeping his eyes on her as she complied. She stood up as well, carefully removing the peach blouse and folding it, then looking around for a place to put it. He let her, enjoying the sight of her heavy breasts encased in the nude-colored bra. She walked to the kitchen counter, her hips swaying, and removed her bra right there. Once her breasts swung free, she glanced at the front door and then the banks of windows.
Elie knew what she was thinking. Their company had gone out, but no one had locked the door. He didn’t alleviate her worry by mentioning there was an automatic lock. In her sexual preferences, she had stated quite plainly that she became very aroused at the idea of someone “catching” her naked or obeying her man.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “And so damn hot right now. Get rid of the jeans and panties. We aren’t going to need those, either.”
A little shiver went through her body. Goose bumps rose on her skin as her hands dropped to the waistband of her denim jeans. She slipped them over her hips and legs, taking them off and folding them. He noticed she only half turned, not wanting to give him a full view of her backside. That told him she didn’t like the fact that she had an ass. He was already fond of that portion of her anatomy and she’d taken off a little too much of her curves to suit him.
He held his finger up and twirled it in the air. She glanced again at the long banks of windows and then at him, but her nipples were hard little peaks and the goose bumps were persistent on her skin. Her breathing was elevated. He knew when a woman was aroused, and his woman was very aroused.
He waited in silence, letting the tension build in the room. Very slowly, she complied with his request, turning in a circle for him to show off her body. His breath caught in his lungs. She might not think she was beautiful, but he did. She had gorgeous skin. That mane of wild hair gave him all kinds of ideas.
“Do you remember one of the first rules I put down that was extremely important to me as your husband, Brielle? I made certain to write it twice in the document I sent to you.” He pitched his tone low as he approached her, making his advance a prowl, like a jungle cat stalking her on silent feet.
She shivered but nodded. He remained silent, waiting for her to realize her mistake. It took exactly two full minutes before she replied. “The first was you always led in the bedroom and I was to submit to anything you wanted. The second, you demanded respect at all times, especially when others were around. I represented you and could be as sassy as I wanted, but not in front of others, where I would make you look as if you had no control.”
He trailed the pads of his fingers from her throat, between her breasts, down her belly to her mound. His foot slid between hers to push her feet apart and then his hand slid between her legs to find her entrance slick with heat. She’d answered the sexual questionnaire honestly. Everything he was doing, so far, was making her hot as hell, building her craving for him. He hoped it would continue to do so. Her hips rocked forward as he flicked her clit and then circled it. He took his hand away and licked at his fingers, watching her eyes darken with need.
“Stefano Ferraro is head of the shadow riders in Chicago, isn’t he, Brielle?” His voice dropped another octave.
He saw her instant comprehension. She bit at her lip, nodded and then swallowed. “Yes.” Her answer was low.
“As such he is my boss, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” Now her voice was a whisper.
“He also is the acknowledged head of the Ferraro family, the family I explained carefully to you that took me in as their own. Is that not correct?”
“Yes.”
“Knowing all that, you still disrespected him in front of his brothers and friends when he came at my call for help, didn’t you?”