CHAPTERELEVEN
Dario
I loveeverything about this moment. The tender way she holds onto my shoulders as if to secure herself to me. The soft flutter of her lips against mine. The way she moans when I lick her lips. The tentative feel of her tongue when it brushes mine. I capture the back of her head with my palm and hold her to me, a moan escaping my own lips before I can stop myself.
“Good girl. You’re so beautiful. You please me so much, Vivia,” I whisper, taking a moment to whisper in her ear before I kiss her again. She shivers and leans into me, eager for more.
I didn’t completely verbalize my plans for her in the other room, because I don’t know how she’ll react, but we both know that bringing her to her brothers as she is, no longer a virgin, a suspected traitor, would mean her swift and sudden death. But I know she’s innocent, and we have a chance at redemption that no words or actions would say louder than I can right now.
I know exactly what I need to do.
I need to claim her as my own.
I need to make her fully mine.
I need to own this woman, through and through.
And if I put my baby in her… if I bring her to our families claimed, owned, and carrying my child, there isn’t a thing they can do against either of us.
I kiss her again. I don’t want anything between us.
Her hands loosen around my neck when I deepen the kiss.
Long ago, when I was barely out of high school, one of my military brothers taught me how to seduce a woman. Kiss her all over, every inch of her, and she’ll be putty in your hands. Kissing a woman on the lips is only the beginning.
I kiss her neck, her jaw, the fullest part of her cheek, and the delicately arched eyebrows over her eyes. I kiss each eye, first one then the other, then her hairline, and as I kiss her, I hold her close to me. She smiles and bites her lip when I tug the loosened braid draped over her neck, her eyelids fluttering open.
“Close your eyes, lovely.”
When she quickly obeys, I praise her again. “That’s a girl. Such a good, obedient girl, aren’t you?”
She nods. Her lips part on a moan when I kiss the top of each breast and linger just before her hardened nipples.
“Touch yourself,” I command, my voice a husky whisper. I’m so hard it’s painful. I imagine her tight, hot cunt around my cock and moan into her ear.
“Touch myself?” she questions, apprehensive.
“Don’t tell me you don’t touch yourself.”
Her cheeks flush pink and she shakes her head. “I… it’s odd to me. I don’t… really… think about it.”
So fucking innocent. How is this woman a Montavio? She defies everything I’ve ever known about women.
“How can someone raised by Montavios act like she’s been holed up in a convent?”
“Did you miss the part about boarding school?” she asks in a teasing but husky voice. “It was a Catholic boarding school.”
“Ahh.” Cute. “So I want you to do this,” I tell her, reaching for her hand and draping her thin, tapering fingers between her legs. “Feel that pressure between your legs. Touch where it aches. Stroke yourself.”
I love the way her cheeks burn, the way her eyes brighten and the slight parting of her lips when she does what I ask her to.
“Good girl.” Goddamn, she pleases me. “Just like that.”
She releases a little moan as she finds what feels good to her.
“Yeah, baby,” I encourage her, pressing my own hard length against her body. Every stroke of her fingers between her legs stokes my own lust. “Keep going, baby. Work that pussy for me. I want you wet.”
I want to take her, claim her, feel the tight walls of her pussy gripping my cock before I empty myself in her, but we aren’t there yet. She’s as turned on as I am, but I want her to trust me before we go that far.