My Italian Beast (Part One)

by Marian Tee

  Marcus dealt me a thoughtful look. “How so?”

  Because you compartmentalize things, I thought. Marcus Ravelli was such a complex and private man that he seemed to have divided his life into these little boxes, and each box was different and so were the people who could access it.

  In the box called work, he was ruthless and cold, his tastes leaning towards everything that was futuristic and functional. In the box called work, he was the kind of man whose company my brothers enjoyed and whose opinion they respected, but this one, too, had limits. I wasn’t sure which box I fit in, but I was pretty sure whatever it was – it was the disposable kind.

  It had taken me several expensive sessions with a psychologist just to accept that, and then a couple more to move on from knowing that I could never be important enough to be in Marcus’ box of all-in access.

  “Anneke?”

  Seeing that he was still waiting for my answer, I said vaguely, “Oh, just a thought.” And not wanting us to get any deeper with that, I quickly changed the subject, saying, “So…” I smiled uncertainly. “How have you been?”

  It had been two weeks since our last meeting in Italy, and today was the earliest we had been able to make our hectic schedules work for both of us.

  “Life goes on,” was all Marcus said.

  Riiiight.

  It was probably the whole Italian macho thing, I thought, that made men like Marcus Ravelli prefer to grieve in silence.

  “Would you like anything to drink?” Marcus was asking as he headed to his en-suite bar.

  “Just water please.” I watched Marcus take his jacket off and lay it on the counter and tried not to stare when he bent down to take out a bottle of water from his beverage cooler.

  Marcus Ravelli had a really nice butt.

  He turned around, and I hastily looked away before he realized I had been ogling him.

  Marcus handed me a glass of sparkling water, the ice cubes clinking against each other. “Here you go, bambina.”

  “Thank you.” I watched him walk back to his table. So tall, I mused absently, and so powerfully built. Was this really the man whose cock I had been sucking just two weeks ago?

  Marcus perched himself on the edge of his table, murmuring, “About the merger…”

  I involuntarily straightened in my seat, my gaze automatically swinging towards the couch at the other side of the room. I supposed that was where the merger could…start?

  My heart skipped at the thought, and I suddenly couldn’t stop thinking of all the office trysts I had read about and seen in movies over the years. Heat began to pool in my thighs, and I crossed my legs.

  Crap.

  “I’ve taken the liberty of drafting a proposal.”

  I nodded absently.

  A proposal---

  Wait.

  What?

  My gaze flew back to Marcus, and to my surprise, he had a sheaf of papers in his hands. “What’s that?”

  Marcus blinked. “A proposal?”

  I was confused. Maybe this was a role-play thing, and those papers were only there to add authenticity to the, well, merger?

  “It’s not legally binding,” Marcus assured me.

  What wasn’t legally binding? The merger? Was it supposed to be?

  “I simply thought it would be easier if we had everything in writing.”

  As Marcus kept speaking, it was beginning to dawn on me that I might have misunderstood some things.

  Crap.

  “We could go over it point by point---” Marcus broke off, his gaze narrowing when he saw me fanning my face in a futile attempt to get rid of my reddened cheeks. “What is it?”

  I tried but failed to talk and coughed instead.

  Marcus lowered the papers back to his desk. “Tell me.”

  Crap.

  Did he use that commanding tone because he knew how irresistible I found it?

  I cleared my throat. “Well.” I could feel my cheeks burning hotter as I thought of what I was about to reveal. “The thing about the merger…”

  “Go on.” Marcus crossed his arms over his chest. I was momentarily distracted by the way the muscles in his arms bunched under the sleeves of his shirt, which he had once again rolled to his elbow.

  “Anneke?”

  Crap. The sound of my name on his lips had me uncrossing and crossing my legs, a futile attempt to stem the flow of wetness that continued drenching my panties. “The thing is…” I couldn’t quite meet his gaze as I made my confession. “When you talked about a merger, I thought it was…you know.”

  “No, bambina,” Marcus said dryly. “I’m afraid I do not know. So if you care to enlighten me?”

  I squirmed, saying finally, “A secret code.”

  “A secret code,” Marcus echoed blankly. “For what?”

  I stared at him. “You know.”

  Marcus’ lips slowly compressed.

  “It was a perfectly reasonable assumption to make,” I said defensively.

  “Of course.” But his shoulders had begun to shake.

  “It really was!”

  And then he was laughing. “Ah, bambina.” In one swift motion, he was on his feet and he had me out of the chair and in his arms, my legs automatically around his waist while my arms went around his neck.

  Marcus grinned at me. “I am glad that this part of you has not changed either.”

  “I’m not,” I muttered, “and this is your fault. You just keep saying things that I either don’t get or I’m bound to misunderstand---” I threw him an accusing look. “And you know it!”

  But Marcus only smirked. “If it is any consolation, bambina, that, err, kind of merger had always been part of today’s, err, agenda.”

  The last word had him smirking again, and my face flamed anew.

  “So how about you decide, bambina,” Marcus purred. “Do we begin with the traditional merger---”

  I tried not to look disappointed.

  “Or do we take a little detour with the other type of merger?” His burning gaze dropped to my mouth as he spoke.

  Heat spread over my body, and I found myself wetting my lips.

  A low growl erupted from Marcus, and I could feel my pussy actually quivering in response.

  “What’s it to be,” Marcus asked roughly.

  “Can we---” I swallowed hard. “Take the detour first?”

  “Fuck, yes.”

  And then there was no chance to speak. Marcus’ mouth slammed over mine, and there wasn't any chance to think either. My arms tightened around his neck as I surrendered to his kiss, thinking all the while, Too long.

  It’s been too long.

  I felt Marcus start to move without breaking our kiss, and I closed my eyes as I felt his hands squeeze the cheeks of my ass. A moment later, and I heard things falling on the floor as he settled me on his desk.

  Oh.

  This was totally, totally, totally my favorite office tryst scenario---

  And then I felt Marcus’ hands going under my skirt, and I jerked against his body in a mixture of fear and excitement.

  His head lifted, and he stared down at me with lust glittering in his dark eyes. “I want you to scream.”

  I whimpered and writhed at the words. “But people could hear---”

  A smile slashed his lips. “Exactly.” And then his hands started moving again.

  He disposed of my panties first, pulling them down for a few inches before losing patience and ripping them off my body.

  The tearing sound made me moan, and then I could only moan again as I felt him push my skirt up to my waist and cool air began to caress my bare legs.

  I raised myself up on my elbows, my heart pounding harder and harder as his hands settled on my knees.

  His gaze captured mine as he pulled my legs up to form a V on each side. “Open wide, bambina.”

  Another whimper escaped me at the explicit command, but even so my body shuddered in eager response and I found myself parting my legs open, wider and wider, unti
l I was completely exposed.

  I felt so wonderfully stretched, the pain of it somehow heightening my arousal, and a low moan slipped past my lips.

  With his gaze still holding my eyes captive, Marcus reached for my pussy, dipping his fingers in creamy wetness as he stroked my quivering folds.

  My body erupted in flames, and I couldn’t help lifting my hips even as another moan slid out of my throat.

  “Louder, bambina,” Marcus purred softly. “If you want my fingers to move faster…”

  And because I did want his fingers to move faster, I could only do what he said, my moan louder than the previous one---

  The reward was immediate, his fingers moving faster.

  “I’ll give you my mouth next,” Marcus said roughly.

  Another loud moan.

  “I’ll fuck you with my tongue.”

  Aaaaaaaaaaah.

  “My tongue won’t stop until you come---”

  AAAAAAAAAAH.

  “I’ll do all those,” Marcus rasped, “as long as you promise to scream.”

  His fingers stilled, and I let out a cry of protest.

  He suddenly moved forward, his fingers fisting my hair as he yanked my head back, growling, “Do you promise, bambina?”

  I gasped, “Yes!”

  Marcus let go of my head, and I fell back with another gasp, my back slamming against the cold surface of his desk.

  I felt his head descending between my legs, and my eyes drifted shut even as my body tensed in agonizing anticipation.

  And then I felt it---

  His fingers parting my folds as his tongue slowly slid in.

  I began to scream.

  Marcus’ tongue thrust in and out of my swollen folds, fucking me with his mouth like he promised, and it was all I had ever secretly fantasized of…and more.

  My screams echoed around his office.

  Oh God.

  Please.

  Don’t stop.

  Marcus.

  MAAAAAAAARCUS---

  I felt Marcus shudder at the sound of his name, and a moment after his fingers joined his mouth, rubbing my clit furiously as his tongue continued thrusting in and out of my pussy.

  It was too, too much, and I felt myself spiraling out of control.

  “MARCUS!”

  And then I was coming, my body jerking against Marcus as my essence streamed out of me in powerful, prolonged spurts.

  My head tossed and turned, my hands blindly finding something to grip until my fingers clutched the edges of his desk.

  God, it was too much.

  Too, too much---

  But waves of pleasure that seemed endless continued to wrack my body.

  It felt like forever before my eyes could flutter open, and I caught a glimpse of white marble tiles just as Marcus laid me inside a tub filled with bubbling hot water.

  My eyes closed, but just before weariness claimed me, I swore I heard Marcus whisper, “Say you’ll marry me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Darkness had fallen, transforming the city from a sunny paradise into a sinful haven. With its skyscrapers outlined in neon colors and its bridge laid over the beach like a sparkling bet, Miami’s cityscape at night was quite different from what I was used to in Amsterdam, and certainly more so when one compared it to the slumbering beauty of Bruin Hemel.

  Everything seemed bigger and brighter here, newer and fresher, but with it came a sense of urgency – if you don’t move fast enough, you might be left behind.

  Which was exactly how I felt, I thought, ever since Marcus Ravelli had proposed his madcap idea about a marriage-slash-merger between us. We had been having lunch at his office, the food prepared by a luxury catering service, and when he had suggested a toast, I had taken the bait, asking what it would be for.

  “Our impending marriage,” Marcus had answered smoothly, and I had ended up choking on my wine.

  The memory would have made me laugh if anxiety hadn’t taken me hostage, causing cold sweat to envelop my skin like a straitjacket I couldn’t get shake myself out of. In all fairness with Marcus, the draft he had prepared was nothing but thorough and fair.

  Despite its unconventional beginnings, the marriage was to be real in every sense – infidelity in any way was not allowed, children were part of the deal, and to avoid muddying the waters, we were to retain separate control of our assets even after our marriage.

  “If you agree,” Marcus had said softly, “then know that I am in this for the long haul. I want this marriage to work.”

  “But you don’t love me,” I had protested.

  “Nor do you love me,” Marcus had rebutted, “but you do not see me worried about that, do you? What we have working for us is more stable – a genuine appreciation of each other’s company, respect, and most of all…”

  Leaning forward, he slowly traced the outline of my lips, murmuring, “We have this.”

  When his fingers remained on my mouth, his gaze darkening, I had found myself slowly parting my lips.

  His finger slipped in, and I started sucking on it.

  Marcus’ nostrils flared, and a feral look of desire glittered in his gaze. “Do you see it now,” he had rasped. “I don’t even have to say a word, and you already know what I want, bambina.”

  His finger pushed deeper, and I sucked harder.

  “Imagine if we can have this every minute of the day.”

  And that had been it.

  Marcus only had to dangle the promise of 24/7 fucking in front of me like a lollipop, and I had practically drooled while snatching it with both hands.

  Turning to face my fiancé for half a day inside the limousine, I asked, “Are we near?”

  “About ten minutes more, bambina.” A crooked grin formed on his lips. “Are you that excited about the wedding night?”

  I turned red. “Of course not.” Well, yes, but it wouldn’t do to admit that.

  “Well, I am.” Marcus pulled me close, and I couldn’t help closing my eyes as he nuzzled my cheek, saying huskily, “I can’t wait to fuck you---”

  His words made me shudder, and when his mouth moved to my ear, I shuddered anew as his teeth nipped the sensitive edge.

  As he lifted his head, I whispered, “I just can’t believe we’re doing this.”

  Marcus took my hand and pressed his lips to my knuckles. Our eyes met, and he said softly, “Tough.”

  I grimaced, and he chuckled as he placed another kiss on my knuckles. “It will do you no good to worry, bambina. I’m not letting you change your mind.”

  “You don’t own me,” I muttered.

  “But you want to be,” he countered lazily. “Don’t you?”

  His dark exotic eyes challenged me to deny it, and I could only look away, knowing he was right.

  “Can your late grandmother really force your hand like this,” I mumbled.

  “Unfortunately---”Marcus sighed. “The answer is yes. As it is the business she founded and owned, it is hers to dispose of in any way she wishes.”

  A moment of silence followed, and then Marcus murmured my name.

  I turned to him, wishing I could embrace its sound to me. If he always said my name like that, I thought whimsically, then maybe I wouldn’t be so afraid.

  “Does it truly scare you that much,” Marcus asked quietly, “the idea of being married to me?”

  My shoulders lifted in a helpless shrug. “Everything’s just happening too fast.”

  Marcus’ jaw clenched. “I know I’m being unfair. And if I could delay things, I would. You, more than any woman, deserve to be wooed---”

  Horrified at the realization that Marcus thought I was holding him to blame in any way, I quickly shook my head, protesting, “I’m not mad at you. I know and I understand that you don’t have any choice. The deadline for you to meet the conditions is tomorrow---” I paused.

  “What is it?” Marcus asked abruptly.

  “You’ve known for weeks,” I ventured tentatively. “So why did you wait so long before a
sking me?”

  His lips twisted. “You will probably be furious about this…”

  His words made me tense, and I inhaled sharply, telling myself that no matter what---

  “I was being manipulative. I was thinking the lack of time would pressure you into agreeing.”

  Oh. Thank God.

  My relief must have been obvious, making Marcus ask, “What did you think I was going to tell you?”

  “Well…you know.”

  Marcus’ lips twitched. “No, bambina. I’m afraid I really am not the clairvoyant you imagine me to be.”

  I mumbled my answer, hoping he wouldn’t understand and just drop the subject, but as always, everything that had to do with Marcus Ravelli ended up backfiring on me.

  “Jaike?” Marcus’ brows shot up. “Are you talking about my Jaike---”

  I stiffened.

  His eyes widened. “So you are talking about Jaike Hepburn.”

  “Yes,” I snapped. “I’m talking about your Jaike.” My teeth gnashed, and I started to pull away.

  Marcus started to chuckle, and I struggled harder.

  Blasted…moron!

  “Mi dispiace, bambina.” Marcus’ strength overpowered mine, and in the next moment he had me locked in his arms. “You misunderstand,” he said soothingly. “Okay?”

  He had called the other woman his Jaike. What the heck was there to misunderstand?

  “You only took me surprise, that is all. Bene?”

  I shook my head vigorously. He could bene his butt or anyone else for all I cared. I still didn’t like the way he called Jaike Hepburn his.

  Pulling away, Marcus looked straight into my eyes, saying firmly, “Jaike Hepburn is just a friend. She has always been a friend, and we haven’t even been intimate with each other, not even once.”

  “How do I know you’re not lying?” I demanded under my breath. I had read the rumors about them, knew about how he had supposedly been the third party behind the couple’s recent breakup.

  “You can ask her yourself or even her fiancé.” Marcus’ tone was level. “She is happily engaged to Derek Christopoulos, and I am just as happy that they are together, living their happily ever after.”