Back in the lounge, Emilio was already standing in front of the cake, knife in the hand, waiting on her, she supposed. Isabella was giving orders to a waiter, and Romero was opening champagne. Fraya moved through the crowd, coming up from behind Emilio, and slipped her hand into his jacket pocket. From the way he froze, she guessed he had been taken by surprise.
Standing on tiptoe, she whispered in his ear, “Since you already have one part of the collection, I thought I’d give you the other. Go big or go home, right?”
She watched with a smirk as he carefully fingered the object she had shoved into his pocket. He turned his head. A look of surprise washed over his features, and when he looked down, he paused momentarily. His expression changed, but she couldn’t place it.
Romero made a toast to the newly weds.
“Cut the cake!” Ana called, and immediately a few people joined the chorus. “Cut it! Come on, what are you waiting for?”
The look Emilio gave her as he handed her the knife promised nothing good. She narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin in defiance. His fingers folded around hers, and together they cut into the marzipan cake.
Emilio broke a piece off the first slice and slipped it through her lips, his fingers lingering a second too long. Unable to tear her gaze away, she watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them slowly. Double son of a bitch. Determined not to show him how much he affected her, she squared her shoulders and busied herself with cutting and serving the well-intended cake. Fraya couldn’t help but feel like a traitor when she handed Isabella her plate.
* * * *
Emilio watched Fraya trying to mingle with the guests, as he had done on the occasions when she belonged to Gene. His mood darkened as he reminded himself that she didn’t belong to him now. Their mating meant nothing. It was a bond he had forced, hoping that with time, he could tie her to him, making her want to stay from her own free will, showing her that he was worthy of her love, and getting hers in return. It wouldn’t be an easy battle, but one well worth fighting. He had given her the sperm she so desperately needed to still her painful need. As for her release, he’d make her wait until she could admit to the truth of what her body wanted.
That cheeky little woman pushed her breasts forward, very well knowing without her bra her nipples were pushing against the thin fabric of her blouse, teasing him, driving him insane. God, she was perfect in every proportion. Already he wanted her again. Male lust pulsed through him as his eyes followed her every step.
His dad spoke next to him. “You’re a dark horse, Emilio.”
He forced his gaze away from Fraya, but even as he said, “How come?” his thoughts stilled dwelled on the parts of her that were naked.
“For not waiting to have a mating ceremony at home,” Romero said.
Emilio scanned the crowd of young, single and virile men, praying to God that none of them noticed Fraya’s freed breasts, or he’d have to kill that man.
“How long have you known each other?” Romero asked carefully.
“We met a year ago in Zone 11.”
“Have you seen each other often since?”
“Five times. What are you getting at Dad?”
“It just seems a bit sudden, and without letting any of us know. Marrying her because your friend stood her up was very noble, but I’m worried about your reasons for doing it.”
Emilio shrugged. “Fraya was just going through the motions when she agreed to marry Gene. She doesn’t love him. Neither does he love her. The fact that he took flight is proof of that.”
“And she loves you?” Romero said slowly.
“Yes.” That was a lie. “And I love her.” That wasn’t. Emilio had loved her since the day he had laid eyes on her. To his detriment. He would never have guessed that the doe-eyed, fragile beauty would rip his heart out and crush it under her feet. Still, she was an addiction he knew he couldn’t cure.
For just a moment concern flickered in Romero’s gaze. “As long as you know what you’re doing, son.”
He slapped his father on the back. “It has been a long day and tiring journey. Fraya is exhausted. I should let her retire. The way I know her, she’ll stay on her feet until the last person has left. She can be a real masochist.”
His father smiled. “Go ahead. Call it a day. Your mother can have her share of both of you later. Take care of her, Emilio.” He paused, giving his son a meaningful look. “You know, I’ve always taken care of your mother, since the very first day, even before I made my vows. I’ve always taken her needs into account first.”
Emilio frowned at his dad, but his attention was drawn to his younger cousin, Mauricio, who was gaping at Fraya. The imp couldn’t even close his mouth and he was staring at her ... bosom. Emilio felt his control slipping.
“Excuse me,” he mumbled and crossed the floor with big strides.
When Emilio was next to the mesmerized Mauricio, he only paused to give the young man a slap on the side of his head before he continued his deliberate advance toward the woman who was flashing her breasts.
“Hey, what was that for, asshole?” Mauricio called after him, but Emilio didn’t spare him as much as a glance. He moved straight for his target.
Stopping short of Fraya, he took her arm. “I know you’re tired. Let’s go upstairs.”
She looked up at him with those large, innocent eyes, and for a moment he had the urge to bend down and kiss her senseless. Instead, he led her through the crowd of guests, made their excuses, and pushed her in front of him into the entrance and up the stairs. She had the nerve to swing her ass at him, too, as if pushing her hard nipples wasn’t enough to drive him over the edge. He narrowed his eyes. If she wanted to be a tease, he was going to teach her how he dealt with behavior like that. She was his, damn it, if only in name, and he wouldn’t be reminded otherwise.
At the door at the end of the hall, he pulled her aside to open it. When she hesitated in front of the open door, he said, “My bedroom,” and motioned for her to step inside.
He watched her put her delicate foot over the threshold, slowly, as if she was testing the water of a pool. Once she had both her feet in his private domain, he shut the door and walked to the center of the large room. He could see her looking around, taking in the four-poster bed and the dark wood furniture, until her eyes came to rest on the painting of his ancestor above the fireplace.
He gave her only a few seconds to take it all in, before he said, “Strip,” the hoarseness of his voice startling him.
He was beyond control, and it took every ounce of steel reserve not to pounce on her like the predator he felt. Seeing the other men in the room look at her had almost driven him mad.
Her big eyes widened, but he hardened his heart. “I said strip.”
Suddenly that vulnerable look was gone, and he saw her pulling herself to her full height.
“I heard you the first time,” she said, her soft voice cutting.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I’m tired. It’s been a long day and–”
“I’m getting tired of having to remind you of your promise, Fraya.”
She closed her eyes for a second and when she reopened them, they were flushed with anger, looking even darker than usual, almost black.
“You could consider a...” she flicked her hand in the air and propped it on her cocky hip, “...gentler approach.”
“Gentler?” He raised his brow. “I don’t recall you liking it gentle.”
She flushed. He knew what she meant, but he had no intention of saving her from her embarrassment.
“I’m waiting, Fraya. Do you want to explain yourself sometime today?”
Her blush deepened. “I’m... It’s a bit fast to just get naked, like this.” Her eyes moved to the window. “It’s very bright. Can you close the curtains, or something?”
“No. I want to see you.”
She swallowed. “Can’t we take it ... a bit slower?”
“We didn’t take it sl
ow a year ago, so what’s the point now?” She flinched, but he carried on relentlessly. “I’m not giving you a way out by tying you up this time. This time, you live with it, whatever it is you feel–shame, guilt, shyness ... I don’t give a damn.”
That wasn’t entirely true. He did give a damn. He cared a lot, but right now, he was going to make her pay for the bra stunt she had pulled in a room filled with his family and friends. She was his, and he wasn’t prepared to share any part of her with anyone, not even the preview she so graciously flashed around to get back at him. It had worked, and he was furious.
His fury seemed to reflect in her beautiful eyes. He guessed that it was anger instead of shyness now responsible for the redness that moved up her delicate neck. He watched with an increasing heartbeat as she plucked the blouse over her head, throwing it onto his bed. Her eyes didn’t leave his as she pulled down her skirt and stepped from it, bravely meeting his hot gaze as it trailed over her, basking in the parts of her body he had memorized and only been able to revisit in his dreams. If he was trying to teach her a lesson, the joke was on him, because he felt himself explode under the veneer of his casual stance.
“Come here,” he said, his voice tight.
She obeyed, stopping a step away from him.
He removed his jacket and placed it leisurely over the back of a chair. Facing her again, feigning calm, he said, “On your knees.”
He thought she looked alarmed, but then that stubborn look came over her again, and she did as she was told, kneeling in front of him, her face tilted up to him so prettily.
He motioned at his pants. “Undo them.”
He saw the question in her eyes, but her hands went to the clasp of his belt, unfastening it with trembling hands. He watched her unbutton and unzip his pants with his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t going to make this easy for her.
“Push it down,” he said.
She moved the fabric over his hips, releasing the agony of his hardness, and he almost grinned as he saw her eyes helplessly being drawn down, only to shoot up to his again, her cheeks red and her lips lush. Her little tongue flicked out, licking a path over her lower lip. He wasn’t even sure that she was aware of the teasing action, but he knew where he wanted that hot tongue.
“Do I need to explain to you what to do, or have you done this before?” he asked mockingly.
She shot him a look that was meant to kill. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what you want me to do? You’re doing such a good job so far.”
His eyes narrowed at her cutting sarcasm. She wanted to play hardball. Alright. He was all game.
“Move closer.”
She inched forward on her knees, but he took her shoulders and placed her where he wanted her.
“Stick out your hot little tongue and tease me, since you’ve been so good at teasing tonight.”
She obliged, hesitantly at first. He sucked in his breath as she explored him with the tip of her tongue, her eyes locked onto his. He watched her work her way up and down, and then her strokes became deeper, harder. A moan escaped her throat. Her eyes turned darker, a smoldering look overtaking them as he felt himself lost to her touch.
“Take all of me. Now. Fuck me with your mouth.” He had to tell her before he didn’t have the breath to speak, because he was sure his beautiful little wrench was going to do nothing without him asking for it. No, Fraya would make him say it, like he had forced her to formulate her embarrassment about getting naked in front of him in words.
His back arched into her as she closed her lips around him. It was his turn to moan at the hotness of her delicious mouth. His fingers went to her hair, gripping, pulling her into him, as her hands joined her mouth in its exploration. Even in his moment of ecstasy he knew he was going to be a bastard. He didn’t have time to warn her. His release came hard and fast. She had thrown him over the edge, sent him to the moon and back. He shuddered against her, opening his eyes to see her lick the last drop of the only medicine that could cure the ache he had infected her with away before she sat back on her heels and wiped her moist, swollen lips with the tips of her fingers.
He gripped her shoulders and pulled her to her feet. Slowly, he traced his tongue over her lips, delving deeper, tasting himself on her mouth. He palmed her breast and could feel her heart beating fast, erratically. If he didn’t push her away now, she was going to have the upper hand again and he would be the clown being punished. He couldn’t give her the satisfaction, not until she had admitted the truth.
Forcing himself to take a step back, he said, “Now, zip me up like a good girl.”
There was no mistaking the disbelief in her eyes, the disappointment, but she forced it back quickly, pride stealing over her features as she harshly moved his pants back into place.
Fastening his belt, he managed a grimace rather than a smile. “Your room is on the opposite side. I trust you’ll find it in order.”
This time her shock was verbally expressed with a little gasp. “What the hell was that? Another revenge fuck?”
“No,” he shook his head, “this was a punishment fuck. Don’t ever take off your underwear in public again, unless I tell you to.”
“I don’t belong to you.”
She cocked her slender, very naked hip at him, and he almost stripped himself and threw her over the bed.
It took all his willpower to cross his arms and say, “No you don’t. But your body does. And I will use it as I please. And every time you’re a bad girl, you will be treated like one. When you can show me that you can be good, and tell me what you want, I may just let you come. I won’t stand you dishing out pleasure, even if it’s only visual pleasure, to any other man while our agreement stands.”
Both hands were on her hips now, and he longed to bury his fingers into that soft flesh and make her straddle him.
“You bastard,” she hissed. “Does that go for every other woman too? Might as well be extensive, since you’re at it.”
He gave her a cocky smile. “I don’t have any objections watching you get off with another woman, if that’s what you want. I can even join the party.”
She paled and for a second he was sorry for saying something he didn’t really mean, but then she lashed back at him as fast as the blood had drained from her face.
“Fortunately I don’t need to ... get off ... as you’ve so elegantly put it. Not with you, or anyone else.”
Damn her. She was still defying him, denying her need.
“Just with a vibrator?” he asked softly.
She stared at him for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words, before she turned abruptly, grabbed her clothes from the floor and the bed and stormed from his room, stark naked, leaving his door open behind her back.
Another second later he heard another door slam. Presumably she had found her room. He grinned. It was damn tempting to force her to share his room, but he wanted to give her time to get used to him, and to the new situation she had been thrown into. Besides, he had never spent an entire night with someone before, except with her in Zone 11, and up to now he had preferred to sleep alone. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted his mate in his bed, but by her own, sweet will. He’d ease her into his room, and into his heart, one step at a time.
Chapter Fourteen
Fraya threw her clothes on a heap on the floor of her new bedroom and stormed to the adjoining bathroom without sparing her surroundings half a glance. She turned the tap in the shower on. Water instead of vapor streamed from the nozzle. If she wasn’t so angry she would have reveled in what a lucky woman she was. As she waited for the water to warm, she looked at herself in the mirror and flinched at her disheveled state. Her hair was tousled, her eyes smeared black with mascara, and her cheeks streaked with tears. She hadn’t even realized she had started crying.
When steam came from the cubicle, she stepped inside and slid to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chin. What had she done? What had she gotten herself into? How could Gene have discarded her s
o easily? A sob escaped her throat as more warm tears mixed with the hot water. It wasn’t like her to break down and cry on a mosaic shower floor. She was just tired. It was the emotional stress of the day that had passed, the traveling, and coming home to a house full of people she was too exhausted to meet and in no mood to trick with her false mating.
As more tears fell, she bit her lip, chiding herself to get a grip. It was hormonal. It was just biological. She didn’t really need the man next door. She didn’t really expect him to make love to her like he cared. As violent sobs shook through her, she wasn’t sure of anything at all. Shaking her head, she swallowed back the tears. If thoughts upset her, she wouldn’t have them. She had learned a long time ago not to think about the things that hurt when the pain was unbearable. And right now, she didn’t want to think. She didn’t want to analyze if she was crying over Gene who had abandoned her, or over a man who was suddenly as cold as he had once been scorching hot. The way she felt had nothing to do with disappointment, or deeply buried expectations, or a throbbing need in her aching parts.
She turned off the water and toweled herself dry. By the time she brushed out her wet hair, she felt calmer. Only then did she pay attention to her new room. Going through the drawers and cupboards, she realized that her suitcases had already been unpacked. Her bed was as big as Emilio’s, but it was of a lighter wood and the colors in her room were feminine creams and lilacs. A soft, beige carpet cushioned her bare feet as she padded to the balcony doors and peered through the curtains. The garden beyond looked like an extension of the lawn she had seen in front, disappearing into a cluster of trees in the distance. Like Emilio’s, her room also had a fireplace. There was a sitting area with a table and sofa, and a dressing room next to the bathroom. This was nothing like the dorms with the extractable beds in which she had lived all her life. This was beautiful, unequalled luxury.
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