Page 11 of Private Reserve
“Need a hand?” he asks, his voice deeper, rougher than it was before.
I turn and gather my hair to expose my back. “Yeah. The zipper.”
The leather chair makes a squishing sound as he rises, then he closes the distance between us. I watch him in the mirror as his gaze goes to my exposed back. Warm knuckles brush my skin, his movement slow and deliberate as he pulls the zipper up, the teeth cutting the sudden tension between us. For a second, I envision our wedding night, and Gio sliding the zipper down instead of pulling it up. My entire body tightens as I conjure up the image, and my breasts grow heavy, needy, aching for something rough and greedy from Gio.
He meets my gaze in the mirror and holds it. “Beautiful,” he says, the heat from his mouth washing over my bare shoulders. My sex clenches as the warmth from his breath trickles downward, stopping to play with every erogenous zone on the way.
This might be an act, a hands-off marriage to fool his parents, but heck, maybe I should change his mind on that. I mean, I’m not supposed to go home until I’ve had sex, right? Maybe I should take advantage of this situation and seduce the guy I’m about to marry.
Heartache is something I avoid, and I don’t plan to ever trust him again, but since this man already shattered my heart, what more could he do to it? What more do I have to lose? Seducing my husband makes perfect sense, and then at least I’ll be fulfilling my part of the New Years Eve pact.
And maybe, just maybe, I’ll summon the courage to tell him how I really want him to take me in bed.
Chapter Five
Gio
After a very fast ceremony on the vineyard, I pace around the honeymoon suite in the main castle, my cock so hard it’s all I can do to remind myself Olivia is my wife in name only. She’s not mine to strip bare, toss on the bed, and have my wicked fucking way with. We’re simply doing each other a favor, and I’d be wise to remember that.
But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to do dirty things with her. For two long years, I thought about her, wanted her, craved her with an intensity that frightened me a little. And today, seeing her in her curve-hugging white dress, looking so gorgeous as the minister united the two of us in front of my three family members—Luca watching as well—pretty much had me teetering on the edge of sanity.
I pull the curtains open and crack the window, hoping the cooler night air will clear my head. When the bathroom door creaks open, I turn to see Olivia coming my way. She’s dressed in a sexy little white lace number that arouses the beast in me, and I’m afraid that not even the night air will help cage my lust.
Seriously, though. Is she fucking trying to kill me? Christ, she knows white lace is my favorite, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she was trying to fuck with my last working brain cell. I grunt. Maybe this is her way of retaliating after I turned my back on her.
She shrugs, her eyes apologetic. “This is all I have,” she explains. “It came with the dossier.”
Right, the dossier. Okay, so, no way could she be fucking with me on purpose. She wasn’t even the one who’d packed her clothes. I nod and try to keep my cool as she walks to the bed, a little extra shake in her hips—or maybe I imagine that—and slides under the covers.
I shut the curtains, but leave the window open, my thoughts going to the pact she’d described. I still can’t believe sleeping with some random stranger was a part of the deal. If she wants someone to sleep with, it damn well should be me.
Don’t go there, dude.
“Why do you think your friend sent you here, to my villa?”
Still dressed in my tux from the ceremony, I shrug out of the jacket and yank off my tie. Olivia’s eyes track my every movement. Christ, if she keeps looking at me with those big doe’s eyes of hers, no way can I be held accountable for my actions.
“I have no idea,” she says, fixing the blankets around her. “But I plan to find out when I return in three weeks.”
Did her friend think we had unfinished business? Send Olivia to me on purpose? If so, she was right. But there’s nothing I can do about it. Olivia is a good girl in the purest form, and I’m not about to corrupt her. I walk across the room and pour another scotch. Alcohol might be the only thing to help me get through this night without ravaging an innocent.
I hold the cup out to her. “Drink?”
She presses her palm to her forehead. “No, I’m still feeling the effects from all the champagne we drank.” She looks around the room. “So this is the honeymoon suite. It’s nice, but where do you usually sleep?”
“I have a room in the main castle here. But now that we’re married, we’ll move into one of the villas. It’s tradition.”
“I’m actually booked into one of those villas. Abrusco.”
I freeze. “Granddad put you there?”
She nods.
Shit. That place hadn’t been rented out in months. Since it’s isolated from the main castle, as well as the other villas, and no one ever goes there, it’s where Luca and I meet to get a little privacy around this place. Either there or in the cellar of the winery where we keep our family’s private reserve. We can’t very well go to my room in the main house, and he lives five miles down the road. Was it possible…? Fuck, no. No way could she have seen or heard us, or she would have said something.
Her fingers leave her forehead to race through her hair, and as her long, dark curls fall over her back, my focus shifts and I envision her straddling my body, Luca behind her, the two of us taking her until she’s screaming our names.
Stop it.
