by C. M. Steele
“What? As your personal chef?” she spits out.
I shake my head, staring into her gorgeous eyes and speak honestly because no matter how broken I am, my dick isn’t. “Not unless you’re the meal. You called me a beast, and I am. It’s not just the scars—it’s you. I want to devour you, fill you like a wild animal, the primal need demanding I take what’s mine, but like a scary beast, I repulse you.” I stand back up, straightening my posture and taking a step away from her because there’s no reason to beat around the bush.
Now it’s her turn. She straightens up and moves into my personal space. Fuck, I can smell the vanilla lotion she wears. “You think you repulse me? You think this…” she runs her hand down my jagged scar along my hairline “…bothers me? Franco, the only thing that bothers me is that you’ve waited two years to say that.”
I’m lost for words, heart thumping. This has to be a dream. “I couldn’t…”
“You had a girlfriend. I get it.” She reads my response wrong.
“Girlfriend? I’ve never had a girlfriend.”
“Never? I expected you to have like twenty. Hell, I thought that kiss was something you always did to lay claim to your latest conquest.”
“So when you said that you could understand why I was single after the accident…” I have to comprehend what I overheard.
“I meant the angry attitude.”
Fuck, my heart’s dancing in my chest. “There’s only one thing that makes me angry,” I say while smiling down at her.
“Really? And what would that be?”
“Not having a chance with you. For two years I’ve lived with the idea that we could never be together.” There’s no way to hide my pain—it flows from my throat like a broken dam.
“Then stop hiding from me. I’ve been waiting years to even see you, Franco.”
“These aren’t my only scars, Isabelle,” I warn her, because my cousin and brother are right. The scars are healing, but not at the same rate or at all. If she wasn’t in the room, I would have probably collapsed in a chair, trying to keep from falling over. She gives me a renewed sense of strength.
“I have my own.” She tugs on her sleeve, revealing the small surgical scar on her shoulder, and then she presses her hand to her heart. I hadn’t forgotten that she had nerve damage repairs over six weeks ago. “Two years of heartache, Franco.”
“Don’t give me hope, because I might just kiss you.” I’m unbelievably tempted.
“You make it sound like a bad thing.”
“There’s no way I’ll ever be able to let you go.”
“Then don’t.” The vulnerability in her voice makes me want to cave, but I’ve hated myself for so long, how can she see past it?
“You don’t understand how bad it is.”
“Then show me,” she insists.
“You don’t know what you’re doing, Belle. We shouldn’t be alone together because I want to be inside of you, this minute.” She has no idea that once I take her, the only way she’s leaving this place is to go shopping or to visit our family or to the hospital to have our babies.
“We have all day to ourselves.” The slight moan sliding off every word with such intent drives me insane. I want to strip her down right here and stake my claim. Still, I take a deep breath and calm myself. “I’m not going anywhere, Mr. Fiore.”
I slam my mouth down on hers—it’s hard and fierce and over way too soon.
“You’re mine, Isabelle. I’m not letting you go, so you better be sure this is what you want.”
“Kiss me again, Franco.”
I press my hands onto the island behind her, pinning her to the edge and kissing her frantically because I’ve waited two long years to taste those lips, and I’m afraid that she won’t want me when she sees me naked. I have to steal these little moments before they’re cruelly ripped from me.
“Fuck,” I grunt, breaking out of our kiss, and press my hands against the wall, framing her head with them. “You’re killing me.” Our breathing is labored, and my ears are pounding with unmistakable hunger.
“Get over it. Show me all of you. From the feel of you, your cock’s massive, so I don’t think that’s what’s bothering you.”
“Sit down,” I command. Isabelle follows directions, sitting on the stool. I start unbuttoning my shirt.
“Woohoo, a strip show. I left my singles in my purse.” She pretends to look around as if she brought it with her.
“Stop teasing, woman.” I quickly remove my shirt, feeling stupid being on display especially when this moment means so much more than she can understand.
I lay my scars bare, waiting impatiently for her reaction. She takes a deep breath, frowning, and then she asks, “Are these the worst?”
“No.” I shake my head and take a deep breath before I drop my trousers, revealing the twelve-inch scar on my thigh where a piece of metal pierced through, nearly severing my leg. It missed my femoral artery by a centimeter.
She drops down in front of me and kisses the long scar. I groan, feeling a million volts of electricity shooting straight to my heart. Tears flood my eyes, but they don’t fall as I attempt to control my emotions. “Does that hurt?” she asks, looking up with eyes full of concern until she sees how hard my cock is, that’s right in her face.
She places a kiss over the material of my boxers and then she stands up, kissing my chest where there’s a massive burn scar just above my heart. “I’m sorry for all of the pain you suffered. And if you thought they would make me run? You’re wrong. I never forgot our one meeting. I asked about you, but your brother had a hard time talking about it so I didn’t push, even though my heart begged to know. God, how I’ve ached to see you again.”
I grab her hands and bring them to my lips, kissing the back of her palms. I’m doing everything I can to avoid losing control, but I’ve waited so long that I’m teetering on the edge.
“I’ve been watching you every single day you were at the restaurant,” I confess, brushing my hand down her soft cheek.
“What?”
“I tapped into his camera feed, and that’s how he found out about my obsession with you.” Isabelle gasps, but she doesn’t freak out by the revelation. Her eyes widen, and then she whips out a wicked grin that goes through me and I return it.
“Obsession?” Her hand splays across my abs, aiming downward with just the tips of her fingers brushing my shaft. Fuck, I shiver, ready to unload a full sack of cum just for her.
“A deeply insane, dirty obsession.” I cup her hair and tug her head back to look up at me with more force than necessary, but I want her to understand that I’m a man possessed, a beast aching for his mate. “Trust me when I say that I might never let you go.”
“Are you going to lock me away?” she utters, eyes staring into mine while her breathing intensifies. Her bright eyes darken, and her scent fills my nostrils from the heated lust coming off her body.
Pulling up my pants, I shove my erection out of the way as best as I can to zipper my slacks. Sliding my shirt over my shoulders, I lean my head down an inch from hers as I expand on my crazy. “Lock us together until our babies start school.”
“Luckily, this is a huge home.” A knock on the door startles us.
“Yes,” I growl out, buttoning my shirt closed.
“Just wanted to let you know it stopped snowing.”
“Thank you. Please take the rest of the day off,” I call out. Staring at Isabelle, I say, “Give me a minute.”
Stepping from the room, I see Rita walking away. “Good luck, Franco and be nice. I want my own pseudo grandbabies to spoil.”
“You will.”
I have one thing to do first before anything goes a bit further. Hurrying down to my office, I close the door, open the medicine cabinet a pop in a pain pill because I’m starting to feel the strain of earlier. My thighs burn from the overexertion, but I don’t want her to see me weak.
Then I walk over to the wall and open the safe. Taking out what I need, I
close it and come back to my woman. “I’m not letting you leave without this.” I grab her hand and slide on the four-carat diamond ring. “Marry me.”
“That didn’t sound like a question.” She pats my chest.
“I’m not giving you a chance to leave.” I hold her tightly in my arms as I look down at her perfect face.
“I’m not going anywhere.” She kisses my chin. “I fell in love with you from our first encounter and the times I’ve overheard your family mention your name, to all the online articles about you and your new way of living.”
“You mean the fact that I’ve hidden away like an angry beast?” I ask.
“Yes. I wish you hadn’t, but we can’t change the past. We can only move forward.”
I bring her tightly to my chest and ask, “Will you marry me, Isabelle?”
“Yes. I’ve waited two years for this moment.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long.” We kiss and then finally break apart. “I promise to make it up to you.”
“I’m going to hold you to that, Mr. Fiore.”
Suddenly her phone rings in my pocket with a Pour Some Sugar on Me ringtone.
“You have my phone?”
“Yes. It was sitting on the other side of the passenger seat.” I reach into my pants and hand it to her. I see it’s Anabelle, so I don’t get too jealous about the ringtone.
“Hey. Yes. I’m sorry. No. I promise I’m fine, but I didn’t have my phone. Franco ran back out in this blizzard to get it for me. It’s like he’s trying to get laid or something. Yes, ma’am. With Fabio?” I snarl as she continues, but I can’t hear what her sister’s saying.
“Did you hear her?” she asks me after she ends the call.
“No, but what the fuck are you doing with Fabio?”
“Silly, jealous man. My sister will be coming here with Fabio so that we can be together for Christmas.”
“Oh. God. Just the thought of him taking you away from me…”
“The only one who took me away from you—was you.”
“You were always with me.” I pull out my phone and show her a picture I stole off the camera footage. She’s making my dinner and smiling as if it’s something she loves to do.
“How did you get this? Never mind, I’m assuming you could screenshot the videos.”
“Yes. The cameras were my only way to you. It’s how my brother found out about my obsession with you.”
“And why he sent me here…”
“How about we eat some food, and then you can spread out your legs so I can feast on your sweet cunt that I’ve been dreaming of for two years.”
“Wow, um… if you want.”
“Do you not like that?” I don’t want to picture her with anyone else.
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been with anyone.” My brain stalls for a moment and then I’m silently sending up a thank you to the fates who have us on even playing ground. “I actually had a date with a coworker the day after we met…” I want to stab that coworker. “But I canceled it, hoping that the look in your eyes and that kiss was as serious as it felt.”
“Isabelle, I swear I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”
“Franco, can the food wait? I need you now.”
“Are you well enough? I think you should eat first.”
“Are you stalling, Mr. Fiore?”
“No, my sweet. It is just that once I get you in bed, we won’t be leaving until Christmas morning. Hell, if the rest of the family doesn’t arrive, then we’ll spend the day making love by the fireplace because Rita will be too busy reading her books.”
“Wow. Okay. Fair enough. Sit down and tell me what you want to eat.” I wag my brows at her. “Ugh—not me, and not your favorite dish Tagliatelle al Ragù alla Bolognese either. That’s for the gathering.”
“That’s okay. I don’t need a lot.” I watch her movements, wanting her to cook for me and not at the same time because she should be resting. “How is your shoulder?”
“Better. I have good days and I have bad ones, but most of the bad have faded. Will grilled cheese sandwiches work?”
“Perfect.” She goes about the kitchen, learning the drawers and storage spots, finding the hidden walk-in pantry. I want her to feel like this is her home because it is.
“You know…it’s interesting. Fabio always seemed to know when I was overworking myself and would send someone to take over or do it himself. Nah. You couldn’t…” I stare at her with a guilty look on my face, and she has her answer. “Are you serious? You watched me that much?”
“I did say you were my obsession. I should be jailed for how often I stalked you. The thoughts I had…”
“What kind of thoughts?” Will she be frightened or excited? I can see the rosiness in her cheeks, and I know it has nothing to do with cooking.
I don’t answer right away. There’s just too much to be said, and not. She sets down the plate with four sandwiches on it. “Let’s just say that I wanted you here, and I was tempted to use any means necessary.”
“Ooh.” She presses her hand to her mouth and then finally speaks. “Would you have tied me up and kidnapped me, carrying me over your shoulder like a crazy caveman?”
“It was an option, but I’d never want to mar your skin with ropes. Perhaps a tie would make a better restraint.”
“Eat your food, Mr. Fiore, and just maybe we’ll see.” She licks her lips, swiping a crumb off them and I grunt, my dick banging against the underside of the granite countertop.
“You’re asking for it.”
“Should we call Rita for a sandwich?”
“Absolutely. We need a buffer between us because my dick is gonna break this granite.”
“Don’t go and do that. I love this counter, and I have a feeling I’m going to love your big, thick length as well.” She licks her lips again, and I’m going to lose it.
“You are a tease, woman.” I bring my phone to my ear after pressing Rita’s number. “We have grilled cheese.”
“On my way.”
We eat in silence, barely keeping our eyes off each other, tension radiating, needing release.
“Goodness, it smells fabulous. Thank you for the food. I thought I was going to have to live off of cereal until Francois returns,” Rita exclaims, coming into the room in a hurry and taking a seat at the island. “Oh my…this is incredible.”
“It’s just a simple grilled cheese.”
“I can’t cook, so this is gourmet as far as I’m concerned.” She takes a drink of a glass of milk that I didn’t see her pour.
“Thankfully, Franco rescued me. Speaking of cooking, I need to get this food put away to thaw. Do you think the roads will be cleared by morning?” Always the amazing chef being ready to cook for us.
I pull out my phone and check the radar. “No. It looks like we’re going to be spending Christmas alone, although I’d say they should be cleared to come on the twenty-sixth. Maybe they’ll make it by Christmas night, but let’s bet the next day.”
“Okay. That gives the meat proper time to thaw and marinate.” A look of upset crosses her face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, wiping my hands on my napkin.
“Nothing.”
I tilt my head and grunt. “Don’t start lying to me, Isabelle.”
“It’s really nothing. My sister and I video chat with my parents on Christmas morning together and we won’t be together tomorrow.”
I think about the problem for thirty seconds and then say a partial truth, “Okay. Just explain that you were working a party and the snowstorm left you stranded here.”
“I suppose, but they worry about us even though we’re both adults.”
“I’m sure the best parents do. I can assure you my parents worry about both Fabio and me.”
Rita gets up and addresses us. “Thank you for the food. I’m going to head to my room unless you need anything.”
“No, we’re good. Do you have a new book to read?”
�
��Yes. You’ve figured me out. Luckily it arrived before the storm because you know I hate the whole eBook thing.” She does. It’s cool because she has several bookcases that line her private sitting room.
Isabelle sets the dishes in the sink, and I take her hand. “We’ll worry about it later. You and I have long awaited unfinished business to attend to.”
“We most certainly do, Mr. Fiore. A promise long overdue.” I lead her upstairs, avoiding looking into her eyes because once I do, I’ll slam her to the nearest surface.
The moment I have Isabelle alone in my wing of the mansion, I open our bedroom door and, slam it closed behind us, pinning her to the door. My mouth crushes her in a violent, greedy kiss. Her hands snake into my hair, tugging as she clings to me. I don’t even mind the pain. After all I’m going to be pummeling her body with my thick cock very soon. I need her naked.
Dragging my mouth from hers, I press my forehead to hers and whisper, “I love you so much, Isabelle.”
“I love you too. Please make love to me.” I reach over and pull up her sweater to see the bra I bought for her.
“I knew this would look good on you.”
“Did you buy this for me?”
“Just the panties and bra. I’ve been thinking about you in this for over a year.”
“Really.” Her eyes darken with need that I plan on sating. I lift her up, feeling like an animal and carry her onto the bed.
Like a kid on Christmas, I tear off her wrappings, stripping her bare to me. God, she’s too damn sexy and I don’t deserve her, but I can’t refuse such a gift. I’ve ached for this woman for so long that I’ll never let her go.
My cock throbs as I stare at her pale, naked flesh. She bites on her bottom lip, looking nervous. How the hell can she be nervous? She’s perfect.
“Isabelle,” I whisper, sliding between her legs. Holding firmly to her thighs, I kiss my way up between her creamy skin. I part her wet slit and take my first lick of her heat. Two years to finally taste heaven. Moaning, I continue to swipe my tongue into her wetness.
“Franco,” she cries out, hands clenched in my hair and thighs flexed. She’s so sexy I can barely breathe. Roughly, I drag her body closer to my face and devour her little pussy like a man possessed—more like the beast that I am.
