Page 22 of Wicked Bloodlines

I unhooked her bra with practiced ease, letting it fall forward. I slid my hands around to cup her breasts as I pressed cock against her back, letting her feel how much I wanted her through my pants. She arched into my touch with a soft moan that vibrated through her body into mine.

“We fucked like strangers before,” I said, my lips at her ear as my fingers teased her nipples into hard peaks. “Tonight I want to watch you come apart. I want to see everything you try to hide behind that perfect mask.”

My hand slid lower, tracing the edge of her lace panties before dipping inside. She was already wet, her body betraying how much she wanted this despite whatever calculations might be running in that brilliant mind. I stroked her clit slowly, deliberately, my other arm wrapping around her waist to hold her steady as her knees threatened to buckle.

“Matteo,” she gasped, her head falling back against my shoulder.

“I’m right here, baby,” I replied, increasing the pressure and pace of my fingers. “Let go, Sofia. Show me how utterly beautiful you are when you come.”

Her first climax built quickly, her breathing growing ragged as she pressed back against me. I watched her face in profile, trying to memorize every micro-expression, every flicker of surrender. When she came, her body tensing then shuddering in my arms, I saw what I’d been looking for all this time. The moment of complete honesty, her walls temporarily demolished by pleasure. The difference was startling and so Goddamned beautiful I was nearly undone.

Before she could fully recover, I turned her and lifted her, carrying her the few steps to the bed. She bounced slightly as I dropped her onto the mattress, looking up at me with dilated pupils and flushed cheeks as I stripped off my clothes. I climbed over her, capturing both wrists in one hand and pinning them above her head.

“I want to see your face,” I said, positioning myself between her thighs. “Every reaction. Every thought. Hide nothing from me tonight. If you need to scream, you scream. I want it all.”

I entered her with a single thrust, watching her eyes widen, her lips part on a silent gasp. The sensation of her body accepting mine nearly broke my control, but I held back, establishing a rhythm designed to build her pleasure slowly, inexorably. She wrapped her legs around my waist, heels digging into my lower back as she tried to urge me faster.

“Not yet,” I murmured, maintaining the deliberate pace. “Not until you can’t think anymore. Not until there’s nothing left in that brilliant mind but the pleasure I’m giving you.”

The next time, her climax built more slowly than the first. I kept her wrists pinned, forcing her to surrender control completely. When she finally fell over the edge, her back arching off the bed, my name torn from her throat in a cry that might have been heard throughout the villa, I felt a savage satisfaction that had nothing to do with my own pleasure.

Only then did I allow myself to chase my own release, increasing my pace until the world narrowed to the sensation of her tight pussy milking my cock. The sight of her beneath me, the sound of our mingled breathing served as the background to our symphony. When I came, it was with a groan buried against her neck, my teeth scraping the tender skin just to watch her skin erupt with goose flesh.

Afterward, I rolled to my side, keeping one arm possessively across her waist and pulled tightly against me. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she caught her breath, her skin sheened with sweat. Sofia Marchesi was becoming essential to me in ways I hadn’t anticipated and couldn’t fully control.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, her voice soft in the dim room.

I looked at her to find her watching me through half-lidded eyes, her expression impossible to read. For all the physical intimacy we’d just shared, this woman remained as much a mystery as the day she’d arrived.

“I’m thinking you might be the most dangerous thing that’s ever happened to me,” I answered honestly.

A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “The feeling is mutual.”

We lay there in the tangled sheets, both spent but alert, like two predators sharing territory, attracted and wary in equal measure. Whatever came next, we were bound together now. By arrangement and desire, and by the secrets neither of us could fully share yet.

Chapter Eight

Sofia

Matteo slept on his stomach, one arm flung across the space where I’d been sleeping only a few minutes before, his breathing deep and even. The cuts across his knuckles had scabbed over, dark against his skin. I watched the rise and fall of his back before turning away.

The clock on his nightstand read 4:47. I collected my dress from the floor where it had landed hours before, the fabric cool against my palm. I had no idea where my underwear eventually made it. Pulling my dress over my head, I moved as quietly as possible. Matteo stirred but didn’t wake. His hand flexed once against the empty sheet before settling.

Once I left his suite and entered my own, I closed the door to our shared suite behind me. In my suite, I showered quickly, the hot water washing away the lingering scent of Matteo from my skin. I dressed in simple slacks and a cashmere sweater, casual but expensive. Armor for the day ahead.

The slower night of sex changed nothing about my reason for being here, or my feelings for Matteo. I told myself this as I brushed my teeth, meeting my own gaze in the mirror. His hands on my body, his mouth at my throat, the way he’d pinned my wrists and watched my face as I came apart, none of it changed the fundamental reality. I was here because my father had sold me. Matteo would marry me because his brother told him to. Whatever heat existed between us was a distraction, dangerous in its intensity. I set my toothbrush down and turned away from the mirror.

Feeling out of sorts, I sat at the vanity and brushed my hair in long strokes, trying to calm myself with the repetitive motions. I closed my eyes and tried to center myself. If I thought much about Matteo and our night together, I knew I’d lose myself in the memory. Matteo truly lit up my world. I had no way to deny how explosive we were together. I just had no idea how I was supposed to protect my heart.

Belle arrived at eight. I opened the door to her cheerful smile. “Are you ready?”

“Morning,” I managed, stepping aside to let her in. Belle’s energy filled the room instantly, her auburn hair catching the morning light from the window. She wore a soft, flowy dress that looked like it had been handmade. Tiny flowers had been embroidered along the neckline adding a delicate touch that suited the other woman.

“You look beautiful,” Belle said, her eyes scanning my outfit. “That sweater brings out your eyes.”

I smiled at the other woman. She was so engaging it was difficult to remember I needed to keep her at arm’s length. Though I really loved the idea of an ally in this place, I didn’t know if Belle was it or not yet.

The car waited in the circular drive, a sleek black sedan with tinted windows and a driver who nodded respectfully as we approached. Belle talked the entire drive, filling the silence with light chatter.