by Shayla Black
“Please,” she whimpered. She might be appalled later. Her pride and backbone would eventually balk at how she’d allowed herself to be reduced to monosyllables, but right now she was too lost in the moment—in him—to care.
“You just wait, Doc.” That didn’t sound like a threat, but a promise, and Lucia couldn’t wait.
He tucked the damp panties into his coat pocket, too, and patted just outside. “These are mine, just like you’re going to be soon. All of you.”
He hovered, his stare raked her up and down. Lucia couldn’t ignore that her lips felt swollen, her breasts tight and needy for his touch. Her dress had fallen to her waist, its hem just barely covering her sex. The leather under her butt would probably bear a puddle when she got up, she was so wet. If she could see herself, she’d probably be shocked, but she wasn’t about to object.
Suddenly, the car stopped. Wade rapped on the other part of the partition. She looked out and saw a quaint little hotel with Old World charm to her left.
Jon cursed. “Put your dress back on.”
Numbly, she thrust her hands into the sleeves, wondering how much longer it would be before he took it off again. He zipped it back up for her, then rapped on the partition. It buzzed down slowly, and Wade’s blue eyes met hers in the mirror once more.
“I called ahead,” he said from the front seat. “All you have to do is walk in, flash some ID, grab a key, and…whatever you’re going to do then. Have fun.”
“Thanks, man. I owe you.”
“I’ll remember that, too.”
Jon laughed. “I know you will.”
He climbed out of the vehicle, onto the dark sidewalk, then turned and held out his hand.
This was it, for real. If Lucia went with him, he would remove her dress completely, lay her down, and explore every inch of her body. He’d make her take him deep, probably more than once.
Sex, when she’d thought of it with a nice stranger she could direct and control, hadn’t made her heart race. Sex with Jon wouldn’t be like that. He’d dominate. He’d demand. He’d tell her how it was going to be. He’d make her wet and panting and needy—and there wouldn’t be a damn thing she could do about it. That both excited and scared her.
It was probably good for her to be so far removed from her tightly controlled life.
She slid her hand into his, blinking up at him, asking him for…she wasn’t sure. Not mercy, exactly. Not love. She knew better.
Whatever she asked for, though, he understood. “I’ve got you, Doc.”
Lucia believed him. He was strong, capable, smart, brave, determined…perfect. This wasn’t forever, but she couldn’t have wished for any other man to be her first. She smiled as she exited the car and stood beside him.
Gripping her hand, he used his other to shut the car door, then thumped the roof twice with his palm. Wade honked once and drove off.
The night closed in on them, and Jon turned watchful, scanning his surroundings alertly in a slow slide up and down the street. Then he tugged on her hand. “Let’s go.”
She couldn’t see the exterior of the inn well in the dark, but the inside enveloped her in warmth and cheer right away. Tuscan themed and decorated in rich woods and earth tones, the place felt welcoming.
But as she walked toward the check-in desk, Lucia became acutely aware of her bare nipples brushing the slightly rough fabric of her dress, making them even harder. With each step, she got even wetter. Jon turned to her, wearing a wicked little smile, as if he knew exactly how being naked under her dress made her feel. As he arranged for room service in one hour and grabbed the key, Lucia felt her moisture slide down to the insides of her thighs. As they headed to the elevator, that moisture spread, lubricating her skin where her thighs rubbed together. God, she’d be a mess by the time they got to the room.
As the elevator doors slid shut behind them, enveloping them in privacy, Jon pulled her against him, her back to his front. His thick erection prodded her lower back as he pressed her into him with a groan. She wriggled back on him, and his grip on her tightened.
“Doc…you don’t want me out of control.”
But she did. He’d melted her into a puddle of need. While he was still capable of signing the registrar’s book and ordering food, she was damn near blind with lust. She wriggled again.
“Last warning…” he growled in her ear.
The sound shivered down her spine, and she shook her head, refusing to heed it. Instead, she plastered her back to him, throwing her head on his shoulder, and gyrated on his erection again. “Jon, please.”
He hissed and dropped his hand to her thigh. Quickly, it climbed up, up to her hip. Lucia held her breath as his fingers dipped under the hem of her dress and right between her soaking folds. Unerringly, his fingertips found her clit and grazed her sensitive nub. Sensation swelled. She leaned into him with a moan. Jon nipped at her neck, teeth scraping, lips and tongue soothing. With his other hand, he cupped her breast through her dress, rolling her nipple between his thumb and index finger. All the feelings joined up right between her legs and sparked. Blood rushed through her body. From occasional masturbation, Lucia knew she was close.
The ding of the elevator interrupted, and she could have cried. As the doors parted, Jon dropped his hands and eased away. His cool control frustrated Lucia—until she realized an elderly couple stood on the other side of the door with a polite smile.
“Excuse us.” Jon grabbed her hand and led her down the hall, dimly lit with faux sconces. When he reached the end of the hall and shoved the door open, he pulled her inside and shut the door behind him. “Wait here.”
Then he drew a pistol from the small of his back.
chapter four
Lucia’s eyes widened. All this time, he’d been armed? As he disappeared into the bathroom, checking the tub and behind the door, she frowned at herself. Of course. He was an FBI agent. The organization’s culture was high on guns and danger. He probably expected trouble as they unraveled her father’s clues, which made sense. If Pietro was guilty, he wouldn’t want this secret uncovered. If he’d killed his brother to elevate his own mob status, he’d think nothing of killing his niece to protect it.
A moment later, Jon returned, flipped on the light in the narrow hall, then secured each of the three locks on the door. He came at her with burning eyes, slowly prowling forward. That fiery, commanding gaze insisted that she heed him, and as he advanced, she retreated until her back hit the door. He braced his hands on either side of her head and leaned in, putting his face mere inches from hers.
“Want out?”
He was giving her every opportunity to bail if she wasn’t ready to give up her virginity. He’d already spelled out what would happen if she stayed, but he wasn’t going to press her if she didn’t want to have sex.
“No.”
Dark triumph crossed his face as he backed up a step. “Turn around, Doc.”
No reason. No explanation…just a command. Lucia could have studied it to death, but that didn’t suit her purposes. She didn’t have to know anything except that she could trust Jon and he’d do everything he could to make her first experience as good as possible.
She nodded, then turned her back to him. Jon moaned and placed his big, hot hands on her shoulders, planting a row of burning kisses along the back of her neck that made her want to rub against him and beg.
Instead, his hands slid down to her hips. “Behave, and I’ll reward you.”
And she’d bet his idea of reward would be beyond pleasurable. “Yes, Sir.”
He hesitated. “Sir? You’ve done some reading?”
“I have.”
“Excellent. I’ll be putting your knowledge to good use soon.” He didn’t say another word, just lowered her zipper. The quiet hiss filled the room, along with her heavy breathing. The cold air hit her skin, but he covered her with those warm palms, slowly sliding the dress off her shoulders, down her arms, over her hips…then into a pile at her feet.
Lucia was acutely aware that she was naked, that Jon Bocelli could see her back, her wide ass, her thick thighs. She closed her eyes, her heart thundering in her chest.
“Disappointed?” She had to ask the question.
He gripped her hips again and pulled her body against his. “If this wasn’t your first time and I weren’t trying to be tender with you, I’d spank your ass for that question.” His hand skated down her backside, gently groping and feeling. The lights shined down on her, and there was nowhere to hide. Jon seemed to like what he saw, groaning and kneeling to place a kiss on each of her round cheeks. “No more self-doubt. I know exactly what I’m getting, and there’s no woman I want more, Lucia.”
When he stood and turned her to face him, and she saw the sincerity in his eyes, she shoved her fears to the back of her mind. Not all men wanted a twig. Not all men found her intelligence intimidating. Not all men thought her lack of experience was strange. Nicki had been telling her these things for years, and she hadn’t really listened. But now she understood that it only mattered what Jon thought. And he seemed to like her just the way she was.
Everything hit her at once: the gravity of the pending moment, his weighty stare telling her that this night was important to him, too, and the unbending certainty that she’d fallen totally in love with Jon Bocelli. He’d probably walk away again; they lived in two different worlds. But tonight was theirs, and she’d cherish her memories even when she had to move on without him.
“I want you, too.” She stared up into his dark eyes, feeling caressed, enveloped by him.
He took her hand and led her deeper into the room, past a plush terra cotta sofa and a pair of leather club chairs, then to the giant canopied four-poster bed. The bulky, imposing mahogany was almost at odds with the soft gold and cream comforter and lacy pillows.
Jon flipped on the lights and turned down the bed. Automatically, Lucia walked toward him, nervous and eager to be his, at least for the night. But as she walked past him, she frowned. “You’re…overdressed.”
Raising a brow, he sent her a hot stare rife with challenge. “You feel like doing something about it?”
Absolutely. Lucia smiled.
Pausing in front of him, she lifted her hands and pushed the suit coat off his shoulders. With a grin tugging one corner of his mouth, he helped her by shrugging out of the jacket. He caught it with one hand and folded it over the back of a nearby chair. Then Lucia set to work on his pristine dress shirt, one button at a time, revealing a wide swath of muscles, dusted with dark, coarse hair across his chest, narrowing into a narrow path down his ridged abdomen. He was so male everywhere, so…everything that made her breath catch.
Tugging the shirt from the waistband of his pants, she watched as he eased out of the garment and draped it across the back of the chair, over his coat. He toed out of his shoes and doffed his socks, setting them aside.
“Don’t stop, Lucia.” The words were soft, but the command was unmistakable.
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, perfectly at peace.
This was the right move, with the right man, in the right way.
She set to work on his button and zipper, easing his pants down his narrow hips and muscular thighs, also dusted with dark hair. He was big and imposing, a total testosterone bomb. But she knew he would never hurt her.
He stepped out of his pants, and from the pocket, he extracted a little packet, and set it on the nearby nightstand. A condom. God, why hadn’t she thought of that? Even in her most naïve moments, Jon was taking care of her.
“Thank you. I—I’m not on birth control.”
He nodded at her. “I’ll do everything possible to keep you safe in every way.”
Lucia closed her eyes as a fresh wave of need crashed over her. Jon would make some lucky woman a great husband someday. She yearned to be that woman, but knew better. He’d always been career focused, and now he had his brother to worry about. She had critical papers due. “Publish or perish” was the motto of all true academics. With fresh tenure, she had to try to keep up with her more seasoned peers.
“Do you need me to take over, Doc?”
No. She wanted to do this. He’d removed every stitch she wore, bared her for his gaze. She wanted to do the same to him.
Even through his dark cotton boxer briefs, she could see the outline of his thick erection. She’d never seen a live penis, but that didn’t matter. He wasn’t expecting a sexpert, just someone willing to let him touch her and learn.
Gathering her nerves, she curled her fingers around his waistband and eased the underwear down his hips, pausing to draw the elastic away from his hard…The word “erection” didn’t seem imposing enough for the long, hard column of flesh with the flushed, swollen head.
“You’re staring at my cock.”
“Everything is so new. I didn’t…” She shook her head. His cock. Okay, that was what she’d call it. “I want to touch you.”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Jon was every kind of perfect, and she was so glad now that she’d waited and never had the kind of fumbling-in-the-back-of-the-car experience her sister and her friends had talked about. This would be sublime.
Her hand trembled as she lifted it to him, but she wasn’t nervous. A pinging excitement had overtaken her and given her a delicious case of the shivers. When her fingers curled around him, she gasped. She’d expected hard flesh, but not the softness of his skin, not the sheer heat he put off in such measure that she could imagine, with Jon by her side, in her bed, she’d never be cold again.
He jerked and groaned as she wrapped her hand around him and squeezed gently. She gave him an exploratory stroke, up to brush her thumb across the impatient purple head flaring above her grip, then with a drag of her palm back down his shaft to the heavy male testicles below. He closed his eyes, his entire body tensing, fists clenching. Lucia smiled. He was nearly a foot taller than her and outweighed her by at least seventy-five pounds. He was bigger, stronger, and could drop her to her back and mount her quicker than the blink of an eye if he chose. But he stood here and let her have complete power over him, allowing her whatever time she needed to grow used to him, feel comfortable. And she adored him for it.
Again, she stroked him. Unbelievably, he swelled in her hand. Grew even harder, visibly longer and thicker. Soon, this would be inside her, a part of her. She shivered again as that ping of excitement became more like a seismic tremor.
“Lucia…” he groaned. “Fuck, Doc, you have no idea how many times I’ve thought of this.”
“I have, too.”
His eyes flashed open. He looked surprised—in a good way. “Yeah? What else?”
Did she dare? Tonight might be all they had. No way was she going to let him go with regrets. She’d better go for broke and fulfill all her fantasies.
Slowly, she sank to her knees. Jon’s eyes flared with heat as he slid his fingers possessively through her hair and fisted the thick auburn strands, holding her just shy of his waiting cock. “Are you sure you want this?”
“Please.” It was almost a whimper.
Using his hold on her hair with one hand, he wrapped the other around his shaft and guided her mouth to him. “Open up. Use your tongue and suck—Oh, yeah…Just like that. Fuck, Doc. That’s perfect. Holy shit.”
Lucia smiled to herself and redoubled her efforts. From studying anatomy—she’d loved the sciences—she knew where he’d be most sensitive, so she focused on swiping the nerve-laden head with her tongue on every upstroke, then taking as much of him in her mouth as she could. When the head hit her throat, she swallowed on him, both for his pleasure and to push back her gag reflex. Then she hollowed out her cheeks and sucked as strongly as she could manage, running the tip of her tongue along the underside, nudging that spot just under his crown. And because she’d listened to her girlfriends talk about giving head, she knew that Jon would like her hand on the heavy fall of his testicles.
His grip in her hair tightened, pull
ing just slightly. The sting was anything but unpleasant. Funny, she’d always been a cerebral creature, but for the first time in her life, she experienced herself through the physical, as if she could finally comprehend the outside world by using the inherent gifts of her arms, legs, and skin—and her glorious sense of taste. On her tongue, he registered as salty and masculine. And perfect. Though she knelt to him and laved him, his pure pleasure in her act made her feel so feminine, almost powerful. How much satisfaction would it give them both if she stayed here and made him climax in this way? The act was so intimate, and she couldn’t help thinking that she’d feel so close to him afterward.
But that wasn’t on his agenda.
When he pulled away and lifted her to her feet, she moaned. “Jon…”
“Stop, Doc. You’re damn good at that,” he panted.
Lucia grinned shyly. “Beginner’s luck?”
“We’ve established that you read.”
“And pay attention to what my friends have said about their boyfriends…”
Jon growled. “Don’t want you hearing about other guys’ sex lives.”
The possessive statement jolted her with pleasure. “Trust me, I’m only thinking about you right now.”
“Good girl.” He caressed her cheek, then looked past her to the bed. “Get on. Flat on your back. Spread your legs for me.”
The dark command in his voice both aroused and scared her. He wasn’t the lover who’d been putty in her hands a few minutes ago. He was now completely in charge, his nearly black gaze like a drill penetrating all her bravado to see to the soft woman underneath who not just wanted his passion, but needed his tenderness.
He caressed her hip. “I’m riding a thin edge, Doc. But you can trust me. I’ll never hurt you. I’ll work like hell to make it good for you.”
With a nod, she eased onto the bed, conscious of the generous flare of her hips, the less than flat curve of her belly. Jon liked her as she was, though. He’d be disappointed if she couldn’t get past herself to follow a simple command. Lucia forced herself to spread her legs.
