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Bartered Page 10

by Pamela Ann


  “I’m a predator, and I’m famished.” Her breasts were squished against me, and it was getting increasingly difficult to resist her by the second.

  “In a different circumstance, I would’ve quivered, but now’s not the time to put the moves on me.” She swam away, heading towards the beach while I followed closely behind, needing to draw more of this drug from her.

  Once she felt safe from the “predators,” as she’d put it, she tilted her head back, staring into the sky above, while my eyes centered on the two creamy orbs before me.

  “So… I make you quiver,” I asked, wanting to delve more into that detail. “Tell me more about it.”

  “You don’t let up, do you?”

  “Your admission just took me by surprise.”

  Her long hair floated around her while her breasts thrust forward. She reminded me of a siren. La belle sirène.

  She made a dry laugh. “Why should it? I mean, come on, you know you’re sexy and shit.”

  “Sexy and shit,” I mused at her choice of words.

  “You’re beautiful and shit—” She then bit her lip, as if she didn’t mean for the words to come out, while her cheeks blushed profusely. Her eyes dropped to my lips, concentrating on them.

  “Take a chance,” I said huskily, hoping she’d follow her urges. “Touch me. Kiss me.” I moved closer, just enough to feel the slightest touch of her nipples against my chest. The contact made me delirious. “I dare you.”

  Her breathing turned shallow as she moved her lips a hairsbreadth from my own hungry ones. If she kissed me once, she was done. I wouldn’t stop until we both released some of this tension, one way or another.

  In a second, my wish came true, ending my beautiful torment. I gave her a minute—one torturous minute of reeling in the animal that had been unleashed by a mere kiss from her—before I took charge.

  Since we were close to shore, I lifted her body to wrap it around mine without breaking our lips apart from their fevered kisses. From there, I carried her to where we’d left the bottle, right next to the bucket, before I splayed her on the sand. Hovering above her, I sought eye contact, needing to see her. In her luminous, dilated depths came reassurance that she did trust me.

  “Close your eyes and keep them shut, mon amant.” She did as I asked, and for a moment, I let my eyes worship her, savor her. She was ready for whatever I had planned for her, however I had made a promise, and as much as it pained me to harness my hunger, I had to pass this test to fully earn her trust.

  Reaching inside the wine cooler, I captured a cube before I softly brushed it against her aroused nipple. The sheer, cooling contact made her gasp.

  “Do you like ice, Isobel?” I croaked out, feeling helpless when my cock became too painful to bear. Still, I kept on with the sweet torment. The ice was melting, therefore I let the drip trickle on her stomach as she started to shift and moan.

  Her legs were parted, and I couldn’t help myself from reaching to touch her there. Pushing her thong aside, I slightly rubbed her with my thumb. “May I taste you, mon amant?”

  She was breathing erratically as she made a hesitant nod. It was all I needed to bunch up the thong in my hand before wrenching it off her. The sudden move made her gasp, although before she could protest, I inserted the ice cube inside her pussy, driving her into a little tizzy.

  “Savor the sensation, ma belle. Don’t stop until you come in my mouth.”

  Parting her legs wider, I situated my head between her legs before softly blowing air along her slit. The ice was melting inside her, and the melted water slowly dripped out of her entrance. Using the tip of my tongue, I flicked it back forth, letting the water soak onto my tongue before I swallowed and tasted her. I let out a grunting sound then let my mouth delve into her folds, relishing every bit of her relentlessly… harshly.

  “Hugo—God!” she shrieked before both of her hands grasped the back of my head and used it to gyrate on my mouth, making her scream in pleasure.

  Chapter 18

  Isobel

  “Is this what you do all day; stare into oblivion?” Julee interrupted my shortened reverie.

  I wasn’t technically staring into oblivion as she’d spitefully put it. I was merely thinking about what had occurred last night with Hugo.

  After I had embarrassingly come for the umpteenth time, I had been too out of it to use any strength to function, let alone walk. Consequently, he had carried me in his arms and brought me to my room where he’d run a bath for both of us and washed me. I had never felt like I was being taken care of that way. It was sweet and something out of the ordinary, especially coming from a man like Hugo. Nevertheless, I had lavished in it, falling in and out of sleep in the nook of his neck and chest. I didn’t even remember getting into bed with him. However, when I had woken up this morning, I’d noticed the indent on the other pillow.

  “I’m throwing an event at The Riviera. A task that was done by my sister, Celeste, but after she passed, I carried on the project,” she informed me, even though I couldn’t care less what she was talking about. The woman was purely horrid.

  Not getting the clue she was unwanted, she kept on pestering me. “If you’re not doing much else, you could be of help.”

  Oh, she was asking for my help when a little less than twenty four hours ago she had accused me of being an ill-mannered gold digger? Seriously. How about not?

  “I’ll think about it, Julee. I have a lot going on at the moment,” I responded with a subtle tinge of sarcasm, since it was quite obvious to anyone around here I practically didn’t do much until Hugo bossed me about.

  Julee gave me a scathing look, eyeing me up and down as if I was a cockroach she wanted to squash with her heel, before she lifted her snobbish chin and harried away.

  Shaking my head, I was about to get up to go to the kitchen in search for some sweets when my phone rang on the table.

  “Hello?”

  “Ça va, ma belle?” (How are you, my beautiful?) His sexy, French voice filtered through the phone, making me feel all sorts of arousal.

  Stifling my weird reaction to his raspy bedroom voice, I focused on his question. “I’m doing well. And you? I didn’t realize you’d slept with me last night until this morning.”

  He made a deep laugh, causing me to react all the more. Damn this overheated body. Last night was intense, but I didn’t expect myself to go haywire each time he called me, too. I mean, it was bad enough when he was around me.

  “Does it bother you that I shared your bed?”

  Well…yes, it did. But instead of saying that, I ended up telling him something else, “I don’t know. I was asleep.” The image of him holding me close kept appearing in my mind, and each time it did, I’d get these butterflies in my stomach.

  “I didn’t intend to, but when you asked me not to go, I couldn’t resist the invitation, either.”

  What? I had asked him to stay? How come I couldn’t remember it? I mean, I remember falling asleep on his chest in the bathtub while he was washing me, but that was where my memory stopped.

  “Oh… Well, I don’t remember that part.”

  Hugo made a toe-curling laugh. “I’d love to do more of that every night if you like. I love how you taste on my tongue, ma belle.”

  Flashbacks of the beach and him in between my legs—the carnal images of us—left me panting, breathless.

  “We’re invited to go to a yacht party tonight. I’ll be home at five, and we can leave around six. Is that good enough time for you to get ready?”

  “Yes, it should be enough.”

  “You’re all I thought about today, and I can’t wait to see you again tonight,” he said, sounding like he truly meant it. “Dress for me tonight, Isobel.” It was the last thing he said before he hung up, leaving me wondering what had just taken place in that conversation.

  Dress for him? Damen had never asked me that before. How did one dress for a man? I had no clue how to perceive his request. I wasn’t sure if he meant not wearin
g underwear or dress like a slut, though maybe the latter. He did go berserk with that small dress I wore last night. I think it even drove him over to the edge.

  He was the mine kind of guy. Possessive and extremely demanding and, not to mention, dominating. The kind of man I had told myself I wasn’t attracted to, and yet, here I was, undeniably attracted to the man who was the epitome of it. I was a hypocrite. No, scratch that—I was a confused hypocrite. Because, as much as I told myself not to give in an inch, there was something about him I couldn’t resist, either.

  Take a chance.

  Touch me.

  Kiss me.

  I dare you.

  I had dared to kiss him. Every inch of me had sung, had been alive, when I pressed my lips against his. It was like a magnet, I couldn’t help being drawn to him, even if I was protesting, kicking and screaming all the way. I still ended up in his arms. God help me because, when he was doing all those things to me and my body, all I could think about was him. It was beyond troubling, to say the least, that the man I loved didn’t enter my conscience whatsoever.

  “How did it go with Hugo last night?” Elena sprung out of nowhere, joining me on the outdoor patio before pulling the chair across from me and sitting comfortably. “I’ve never seen him that angry with any of his girlfriends before.”

  Smiling at her, I shook my head in denial. “You’re being silly.” If she only knew what had gone on between Hugo and I last night… I still couldn’t fathom how easily tempted and persuaded I had been to let him have a meal of me out in the open. I hadn’t been able to stop him because he had been weaving magic through my veins, and I was still feverish from it. The aftereffects of being served a healthy dose of Hugo Xavier-ism.

  “Men can’t take it when their women are hot and naughty.”

  I wasn’t Hugo’s woman, but Elena didn’t know that.

  “He was just being weird.”

  “Weird? Or maybe he really likes you,” she pressed on with colorful exaggeration. “Or maybe you’re the one for him. I mean, he looked angry and devastated at the same time. Poor cousin, if I wasn’t so shocked about his reaction, I might’ve laughed and teased him about it, but that would’ve been cruel.”

  “The one? Uhhh, no.” I stared back at her, beyond stunned. “We’re just having fun, and come on, have you forgotten this is your cousin we’re talking about here? The great Hugo Xavier.”

  “I’m telling you, you’re different. So even if you believe it or not, just be prepared. ‘Cause my cousin has his own way of handling things. Be careful, though, because once you mess up, he’ll leave you, and you wouldn’t even know it until it’s too late.”

  Well, that was a lot to wrap my mind around. Nevertheless, whatever happened between Hugo and I, I was still walking out when the contract was up.

  Chapter 19

  Isobel

  Searching for the perfect dress wasn’t a problem, nor was getting ready or figuring out the best way to do my hair that would complement my dress. My problem was me. Because, the entire time I was getting ready, I could hear Hugo’s voice saying, “Dress for me tonight, Isobel.” And I was the idiot who chose something that I knew would please the blasted man. So, yes, I was worried because I couldn’t even help myself. If I was spiraling slowly, how long would it take until Hugo fully succeeded with his mission? This was day two with twelve more days to go. Could it be possible that I had bitten off more than I could chew?

  Aside from my questionable emotional and mental state where Hugo was concerned, the dress I chose to wear for the yacht party tonight wasn’t overkill. Though, it was definitely a dress one would end up truly being ravished by her lover in by the end of the evening.

  It was champagne colored with Swarovski crystals sewn into the dress. The thin straps on my shoulders went all the way down mid-back and crisscrossed to the base. The top fit me like a second skin while the bottom was cut short but gave enough room to wiggle about when dancing. It was provocative, alluring, and downright eye-catching. And I had never felt such feminine power until I saw myself in the mirror.

  With my hair in a loose, messy chignon, golden neutral strokes of eye makeup, and gold, strappy Louboutins, I had to do a double take just to make sure the amazing transformation was actually me and not some odd-like dream because the woman staring back at me had serious sex bombshell written all over her. A playful smile broke from my lips as I admired my spanking new look.

  “You look stunning, ma belle.”

  I jumped at the sound of his voice. I twisted my head around and spotted him leaning against the slightly parted doorframe. His dark eyes were enough to tell me that he approved of my outfit.

  And, hell, could he look any more irresistible?

  My eyes drank him in as the feeling in my gut became this hollow feeling while my heart constricted. His presence singularly disarmed me. His charisma was quite lethal. His gorgeous appeal was deadly to my hormones.

  He wore a black bowtie with his black, formal outfit. His wet hair was coarsely brushed to the back, evoking that rugged, devil-may-care sex appeal.

  “Aren’t you going to come here and say hi?” My question surprised me more than it did him because his lazy smile which oozed hot sex and danger was in place as he strode towards me.

  Once he reached me in the middle of the room, he stepped into my comfort zone, lifting my chin towards him, eyes wild and beautiful. “I was going to say hi, but I needed a moment to appreciate you from afar.”

  Seriously, he was giving me a massive dose of you-make-me-so-hot-I-want-to-drink-you-in-one-gulp. It was predatory, and it made me aware of him in all of the wrong yet right tingling places.

  “What?” I mumbled with my heart pitter-pattering madly against my chest. I felt faint just to have him near me.

  “Bonjour, Isobel.” He said in such a way it sounded more of a caress to my senses. He was inducing a response from me that I had not an utter clue as to where and how it had come about. I felt hypnotized, enthralled by this very man himself. “What’s wrong, ma belle?” He raised his brow when my mouth parted a little but no sound came out.

  Why? Because I had been bloody rendered speechless. Not only did he look mighty delicious, but he seemed to have taken over me. My skin prickled from awareness of him. It’s him. Everywhere. Around. Me. It was perplexing and frustrating, yet my senses were beyond captivated by his powerful magnetism.

  “Hugo…” I whispered, flushing when I realized that I sounded more aroused than I had ever heard myself in my entire existence.

  He stepped closer, our lips almost touching, his eyes holding mine, seeming like he was waiting for something.

  “You feel it now. This is why I can’t resist you, ma belle.” His eyes flickered back and forth before he engulfed me with his passion through his perfervid kiss.

  I was putty in his hands. However, my mind raced, wondering how in the world he could influence me so. Even Damen, though we had such a loving relationship, didn’t bring out this side of me. That’s why I’d had no idea it existed. It felt forbidden, but I wanted more of it. What did that make me?

  “There.” He eyed me after he parted from my swollen lips. “You look branded as mine now.”

  Fuck. I better snap out of this trance before I dug myself so deep in the shithole I wouldn’t be able to manage to get out of it when time came for me to pack my belongings and go back to my old life.

  This was temporary, best not to let my mind forget that rather essential detail.

  The night started glamorous and lavish as expected. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t at all aware of how this sort of lifestyle went about, but normally, I was the outsider. Tonight, I was a part of it, and it was truly different from what I had expected. With Hugo at my side, I felt a different kind of rush when women gave those hateful, vying looks directed towards me. I certainly wasn’t used to it.

  Hugo gently placed a hand on the side of my hips and pulled me close to whisper in my ear while my eyes wandered about, basking in the beau
ty and the over-abundance of style and beautiful people onboard. “We’ve been invited by Jacques. You met him at the gala. This yacht is owned by one of his best friends who’s going to be racing with him tomorrow. His name is—”

  “Luca de Medici,” I finished the sentence as I spotted the rogue playboy from afar, talking to his friends, appealingly in good spirits.

  “Oh. You know him?” He sounded pretty surprised.

  “No, I don’t know him personally, but I know of him.” I paused, my gaze taking in the man in question with one appreciative glance. “Everyone does.” Who wouldn’t notice those emerald green eyes, the scruff, and the smile that meant to drill holes in your underwear? And goodness, the tabloids did no justice when you saw the enigmatic man in real life.

  Hugo’s fingers dug into the fabric of my dress and right into my sensitive skin. “Is it really necessary to stare at him while I’m right next to you?” he furiously hissed. “Save me some pride, Isobel. Have some decorum.”

  I frowned. “Are you being serious?” I gave him a disbelieving glare before it totally sunk in that he meant each word. “Oh, you totally are.” His handsome face merely darkened at my close scrutiny. “I don’t get you and your jealous streak. It baffles me,” I said out loud without thought. His expression didn’t look pleased. In fact, it looked downright murderous.

  “How about we save this conversation for a later date? I truly don’t want to spend the rest of my night pondering such a question.”

  My, why was he acting odd? Could it be that the magnificent Hugo Xavier felt a pinch of envy because I was fawning over Luca de Medici? That surely tickled my fancy.

  “Well, shouldn’t we say hi? You still need to introduce me. This is just so exciting.”

  “Really, Isobel.” The slashing look he gave me made my smile even wider.

  Pretending to look exasperated, I thought of teasing him a little. “Oh, calm your arse down. Would it make you feel better if I told you that I think you’re sexier than him?” A playful smile tugged at my lips.

 

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