He Wants It, He Gets It (Full Series)

by Kira Ward

  “You don’t want this,” he said in a harsh, broken tone. “You don’t want me.”

  And then he walked away, leaving her alone there on the stairs.

  Chapter 8

  Emma went to her bed and kicked her shoes off, tugging at the low zipper on the back of her dress, suddenly needing to get out of the silly costume he’d chosen for her. And when she was undressed, she paced the length of the room, anger churning in her chest and growing bigger the longer she thought about him, thought about what he’d said. He had a lot of nerve telling her what she did and did not want. Him and his need to always be in control. She was getting so tired of his macho attitude, his attitude that only he knew what was right and wrong. Where did he get off deciding what she wanted and when she’d get it? He wasn’t the only one with desires, with needs.

  She went into the bathroom with the intention of washing her face and going to bed, but the moment she caught sight of herself in the mirror, her carefully pinned hair beginning to fall down on the sides, and she knew it wasn’t over. She had more to say and she wasn’t going to be able to rest until she said it.

  Emma grabbed her bathrobe off the back of the bathroom door and marched down the hall to the master bedroom. He opened the door almost the second she pounded on it, wrenching it open while her hand was still poised to knock some more.

  “You have a lot of nerve,” she announced, not bothering with any sort of preamble. “Presuming to tell me what I do and don’t want. You have no idea what I want.”

  “Okay,” he said, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes. “What is it you want?”

  He was clearly in the process of undressing when she knocked. He was wearing only his slacks, his bare chest distracting her as she tried to remember what it was she’d come to say. And then she realized that she had nothing else to say. She’d already said it. But there was more she wanted.

  Without stopping to think about it, she untied the belt of her bathrobe and let it fall to the floor. She was naked underneath except for a wispy pair of panties that barely hid what was caught underneath. Dante stood a little taller as he studied her curves, his face no longer an unreadable mask, but a kaleidoscope of emotions. She pressed her hand to his chest and pushed him backward. And that was all she had to do to convince him that she knew what she wanted.

  He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to a bed that was much more impressive than the one in her guest room, this one twice the size and covered in amazing carvings that her fevered mind barely registered as he lay her in the center of another down comforter, this one a deep blue that felt like falling into the center of the ocean. He climbed onto the bed with her, resting his weight on his hands as he studied her face for a long moment. And then he was kissing her, his touch like a cooling balm on a painful burn.

  She pressed her hands into his back, tugging him close to her, trying not to bury her fingernails in his flesh but finding it impossible not to use every tool available to her to draw him in, to keep him as close as possible. He groaned against her lips as he sank down into the mattress beside her and began to run his hand over her ribs, her hips, as he began to explore places he only knew from his previous, cursory exploration. His movements were slower this time, as though he was determined to take his time now. She wasn’t that patient. She needed to feel him, needed to feel that passion that drove her so far over the edge the last time.

  Emma tugged at his slacks, found the zipper that kept her from what she wanted. She pulled and tugged as his hand found her nipples, his fingers rolling it gently, his mouth moving over her throat, tasting and teasing inches of skin that had been neglected for such a long time. She finally managed to get his slacks to part, but he grabbed her hand and pulled it away.

  “Please,” she whispered, telling herself she should be ashamed of the pleading tone of her voice, but she wasn’t. She wanted this more than she could ever have admitted to herself.

  He grunted, but he didn’t let go of her wrist. He pinned her to the mattress as his tongue created a trail down the center of her body, running from that valley between her breasts to her navel. He had to let go of her arms, but then he was tugging her panties from her hips and his hot breath was washing over her clit, making her nerves explode like Fourth of July fireworks. She opened her legs for him, her knees bent, baring herself in a way she’d not done before. And when his tongue touched her the first time she thought she might lose her mind.

  She raised her hips, encouraging him to touch her in all the places that needed his touch. When his fingers joined in on the fun, she knew she was not going to survive the encounter. She realized that she knew so little about her own body. How could she have known that it would feel so good to have a man roll her clit behind his teeth, to suck so gently that she might not have noticed it on another part of her body, but there…it was almost excruciating how wonderful it felt. She sat up a little, pressed her fingers in his hair. She wanted to touch him, not to guide him, but just to feel that connection with him. She wanted his lips on every inch of her body all at once, wanted his hands on her thighs, her breasts, in her hair. She wanted to be connected in a way she knew she would never again feel with another human being.

  And when he moved up the length of her body, his hand working to finish what she’d started with his slacks, she knew she was going to get her connection. He slid inside of her with such ease it was as though her body was custom made for his. They fit together like two spoons in a drawer, his legs, his hips, his arms moving around her perfectly. And the rhythm they found was like music that played silently in her head, a tempo that fit with something only her soul could recognize. She wrapped her legs around him and moved her hips in time with his, loving the sound of his moans, the increasing tempo that spoke to the excitement her body offered to his.

  She’d been afraid that she might fall in love with him this weekend. But she was wrong. She wasn’t falling in love with him now. She’d already fallen, she just didn’t see it until now.

  Chapter 9

  Emma woke tangled in a pile of sheets and comforter. Before she opened her eyes, she reached for him, but her fingers found nothing but an empty space. She rolled over and groaned, disappointment making her heart ache almost as much as her body.

  After a few minutes, she pushed the sheets away and sat up. Her robe was hanging from a hook on the wall, waiting for her to dress and sneak away. She wondered where he was, if he was walking on the cliffs or if he was downstairs with Rainy, going over the day’s itinerary. She liked the idea of him hard at work this early in the morning. Something about it was more empowering than the idea of him wandering alone, lost in thought. She knew he had a lot to worry about, but she hoped he hadn’t already lost his optimism that everything would turn out alright.

  She climbed out of bed and pulled on the robe, slipping out of the room into the quiet hallway and back to her own room without anyone being any the wiser. After a quick shower, she tugged on a pair of jeans and tee, grabbing her coat with the intention of going on a walk of her own. She checked her phone, pleased to see that Sophie had texted with multiple pictures of a party she and Jill attended the night before. It was nice, seeing Sophie being just a regular kid. Sometimes she worried about the diabetes taking that carefree spirit from her, but it hadn’t. Not yet, at least.

  Emma was humming under her breath as she made her way downstairs. No one else seemed to be up and about as of yet. The entryway and the sitting room were empty as she passed through. But when she stepped out onto the patio, Rainy was immediately at her side.

  “You should go back inside.”

  But Emma had already seen Dante standing at the far corner of the patio with a tall, dark haired woman. And the way they were standing, the tension in Dante’s shoulders, suggested that whoever the woman was, she hadn’t come with good news.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Emma…”

  Rainy tried to restrain Emma by holding her arm, but she didn’t try very ha
rd. Emma moved around her and approached Dante and his guest. He saw her coming and stepped around the woman. He started to say something, but then he stopped, a defeated expression dancing across his face. It was as though he was giving up, as though he knew that whatever was going to happen was inevitable.

  “Hi,” Emma said, moving up beside Dante, but not touching him. Something told her touching was not part of the program that morning. “I’m Emma.”

  The woman smiled brightly. “I am Faustina,” the woman said in a thick accent.

  “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “You are Dante’s friend?”

  Emma glanced at Dante. She wasn’t sure it was possible for a human being to look any more uncomfortable than he looked at that moment. She turned back to Faustina, admiring the woman’s dark features and perfect, model-like figure. This was what she imagined Sophie would look like in a few years, minus the dark hair and eyes, of course.

  “I am,” she said, answering Faustina’s question. “Are you a relative of his?”

  “I am, how you say…?” She glanced at Dante.

  “Wife,” Rainy said. “She’s Dante’s wife.”

  And that was it, the final stroke of vengeance. He had done just as she’d thought he would. He took her job, her home, and now he’d stolen her trust and crushed her soul. He took it all. There was nothing left.

  Emma sucked in a gasp when she heard the words leave Rainy’s mouth and bolted for the door without saying a word. Dante reached out to grab Emma’s shoulder’s and shouted, “Wait, that’s not exactly true…” but it was too late. She was gone, more angry at herself for letting her guard down.

  Dante slid past Faustina and ran after her, stopping only a moment to give Rainy a disapproving glance. There was a lot that he had to say, but he needed to catch Emma first.

  To Be Continued…

  He Wants It, He Earns It

  (He Wants It, Book 3)

  By Kira Ward

  Copyright © 2015 Kira Ward

  All rights reserved.

  kiraward@naughtybookshelf.com

  http://www.amazon.com/author/kiraward

  Chapter 1

  Emma was floating on a cloud.

  The moment Dante Caito walked into her life, he was unpleasant, rude…he was everything she’d walked away from when she left her mother’s home at sixteen. He was a customer in the diner where she worked, a customer so unpleasant that he pushed her to do something she’d never done in all her life, even when her mother was at her worst. But he pushed buttons inside of her that made her lose control. She threw a cup of coffee in his face. She regretted it the moment it was done, but that wasn’t enough for him.

  He bought the diner and closed it down the very next day.

  He bought her apartment building and served eviction notices not only on her, but the dozen other families living in the building who had few—if any—options.

  He blacklisted her all over town, making it close to impossible for her to get a new job.

  So what did she do? She gave herself to him with an open heart and girly ideas of a happy future.

  It sounded crazy, even to her, as she climbed out of his bed that morning. She’d wanted to hurt him, even if it was just a fraction of what he’d done to her. And she did. She managed to disrupt his company’s big reveal at a tech expo where he’d planned to launch a new smartphone they were producing. It was his pet project, something he saw taking the company into new territory. His stockholders disagreed, and when they saw the press coverage of her sabotage—a banner that denounced Dante for evicting the tenants of her building—they began to think he was not the kind of man they wanted leading them into the future.

  It should have been sweet, the knowledge that she’d ruined his career. Instead, she found herself dragged to this weekend at his Maine house, helping him repair the damage she did in exchange for him promising to allow the tenants of apartment building to move into a nearby, equivalent building and offering the tenants a six year lease.

  She didn’t know what happened. Maybe it was the fact that’d he’d angrily seduced her and given her the best sexual experience of her life the night after the tech expo disaster. Maybe it was that he offered her help when she needed it most after her sister had an episode of ketoacidosis a week ago. Or maybe it was just because she was beginning to see a side of him she’d never imagined existed.

  Whatever it was, she was humming under her breath as she made her way downstairs, telling herself she wasn’t searching for him, but she was. She was hoping for a few minutes alone with him, maybe a nice walk near the cliffs at the back of his property. She liked the way she felt when she walked out there with him. He made her feel secure in a way she’d never felt.

  “You should go back inside,” were the first words that made her realize something was off.

  But Emma had already seen Dante standing at the far corner of the patio with a tall, dark haired woman. And the way they were standing, the tension in Dante’s shoulders, suggested that whoever the woman was, she hadn’t come with good news.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Emma…”

  Concern bit a chunk out of Emma’s happiness. She thought that maybe Drake Foster had sent her over with his final decision on Dante’s fate. If Drake had decided to remove Dante as CEO because of what she did…

  Rainy tried to restrain Emma by holding her arm, but she didn’t try very hard. Emma pushed past her to approached Dante and his guest. He saw her coming and stepped in front of the woman as though to hide her—or protect her? He started to say something, but then he stopped, a defeated expression dancing across his face. It was as though he was giving up, as though he knew that whatever was going to happen was inevitable.

  “Hi,” Emma said, sliding up beside Dante, but not touching him. Something told her that touching was not part of the program that morning. “I’m Emma.”

  The woman smiled brightly. “I am Faustina.” She had a very thick accent—Italian, maybe?—so it took Emma a second to understand what she’d said.

  “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Faustina smiled, innocence oozing from every pore of her beautiful body. So innocent, she made the satisfied smile on Rainy’s face seem downright diabolical.

  When she said that she was his wife, Emma’s head began to spin. She whirled on her heel, nearly falling over in her rush, and blindly ran into the house.

  “Emma!”

  Dante chased after her, snagging her arm, but she twisted and he couldn’t get a tight enough grip.

  “It’s not what you think.”

  But how could it be anything different than what it clearly was? Wife. Mog…whatever…at the end of the day, it was all the same thing.

  “Emma, please…”

  Dante caught up to her just as she was about to go up the stairs. He grabbed her arm and spun her around, pressing her against the wall.

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “You said that,” she said, angry at the choked, emotional sound of her voice. “Is she your wife or not?”

  His eyes dropped to the floor, and that was all the confirmation she needed. She raised her hand to slap him, anger burning so hot in her chest that she couldn’t catch a breath. It was like standing too close to a campfire. His eyes came back up to hers, guilt and acceptance burning there. He knew what she wanted to do, seemed to understand that he deserved it. But she couldn’t. She’d never hit another human being and she wasn’t going to let him push her that low. She wouldn’t let him turn her into someone she wasn’t.

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  Drake moved up behind Dante, watching them with an awkward smile that was overshadowed by the concern in his eyes.

  “You’re here early,” Dante all but growled.

  “I’m headed back to Texas. I just wanted to stop by and let you know the stockholders have reached a decision.”

  Emma expected Dante to jump on that bit of information, to forget Emma an
d everything that’d just happened, but he didn’t even react. He continued to lean into her, his hand still gripping her upper arm as though he was afraid she would bolt at the first sign of weakness.

  “You’re going back to Texas?” Emma asked Drake.

  “Yes. As soon as I’m done here.”

  “Would you mind if I tagged along?” She looked directly at Dante as she said, “I’m done here.”

  “Of course.”

  Emma pushed past Dante and ran up the stairs. She listened for his footsteps behind her, but she didn’t hear them. Maybe he’d finally figured out that she didn’t want to hear anything he had to say.

  She packed as quickly as she could, leaving behind the expensive dresses Dante had purchased for her, a small part of her regretting the idea of leaving those few moments of luxury behind. But it had all been an illusion—the dresses, the charm, the truce. It was stupid of her to believe that Dante had ever intended to offer her more than anyone else in her life. She’d been the victim long enough, and she wasn’t doing it again.

  Chapter 2

  “You okay?”

  Emma turned from the jet’s window and offered a half-hearted smile. “Thanks for letting me come along.”

  “It’s my pleasure. I enjoy your company.”

  “I don’t suppose I’m being very good company this morning.”

  Drake shrugged. “We all have our off days.”

  Emma nodded, though she figured this was a little more than an off day. Her eyes moved back to the window as thoughts of the future slowly drifted through her mind. Sophie would not be pleased to find out they were going to have to move after all. She couldn’t imagine that Dante would keep his word about the apartment building now that she’d broken her promise to stay the entire weekend. And that meant possibly uprooting her from her school, all her friends, the neighborhood she’d known for the last two years. It would mean a financial burden Emma wasn’t prepared to deal with on top of medical bills and debt that she’d already been struggling with.