She pulled away from him and moved off the couch. Instead of moving away, though, she sank to her knees in front of where he sat.
His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing, Dolcezza?”
“Lesson number whatever-we’re-on.” She unfastened the button on his pants and then reached for the zipper. “I should be able to pleasure my lover so skillfully he’ll only want me, right?”
She heard the air hiss from between his teeth as she pulled him free from his briefs a moment later. He was thick, hot and hard in her hands.
He didn’t push her away, and instead dove his fingers into her hair and guided her mouth down to him.
Her heart was pounding a mile a minute as she lowered her head and took him into her mouth.
Dio, but he wanted this. Needed this.
Her mouth on him nearly made him come undone on the spot. He watched her pleasuring him, and saw the growing confidence in her ability to do so. Earlier this week she’d been so hesitant and uncertain. If she’d wanted to learn how to please a man, she’d certainly achieved gold star status this week.
Even through the nirvana of her mouth on him, her words remained in his head. Another lesson.
Merda, she could not be thinking about that womanizing bastard Lionelli. Was she still looking at this week as training? He’d begun to assume she’d moved beyond Lionelli, and had focused on just the two of them and the pleasure to be found.
The image of her kneeling between Lionelli’s thighs, taking him in her mouth this way, had something dark and volatile fighting with the pleasure.
He tightened his fingers in her hair and tugged back lightly, until her mouth slid off him.
“Look at me,” he commanded softly.
Her gaze, heated and full of need, met his.
“No more lessons,” he growled. “This is between you and I from now on. Capisce?”
She gave a slow nod, and he might’ve seen the flicker of relief in her eyes as she replied, “Yes. I understand.”
“Good.” He let out a low groan of appreciation, and urged her head back down. “Now please, Dio please, continue.”
Her laugh was husky before it ended on a moan as she returned to pleasing him. He leaned back on the couch, enjoying the sensation of her mouth making love to his cock as he slid his fingers over the silken strands of her hair.
His mind became a slave to the pleasure she gave him, and his body tightened as release came closer.
Only thinking about being inside her now, he pushed her away again. But only to allow him to pull her to her feet and strip off her panties, then push her long dress above her waist.
He settled her astride his lap, grabbed her buttocks and then thrust himself up and into her.
“Damiano.” She cried out, shuddering in pleasure. “Oh god.”
“Ride me,” he commanded hoarsely. “Take me the way you want to.”
She didn’t need to be told, as she’d already begun moving on him. The pleasure was so intense and sharp, he quickly realized why.
He lifted her off him with a curse, ignoring her cry of distress. He fumbled to retrieve a condom from the box beneath the couch where he stored it, and then put it on just as awkwardly.
Never had he hated the condom so completely. With Rachel, he wanted no barrier between them.
When he was sheathed and protected, she was ready for him and climbing back onto his lap.
He surged up into her, gripping her hips as she rocked on him and moaned her pleasure.
Their joining was fervent and a bit harder than usual, but she didn’t protest, in fact she seemed to be just as caught up in the moment as he was.
He held nothing back, plunging up into her with an unrestraint he’d never felt before. She gripped his shoulders, seeming to just melt into him as he did the taking.
Wanting to see her climax, he reached between them and found the slick bud ready for him. He just barely touched it and she cried out sharply, her inner muscles clenching around him as she orgasmed.
Her complete abandon pushed him over the edge and he joined her a moment later. Calling her name hoarsely as he buried himself to the hilt.
She collapsed onto him, burying her face against his shoulder. Her body still trembled.
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk again. Ever.” Her unsteady, husky admission had him giving a faint smile.
“A warm bath will ease any soreness.” He stood, lifting her up with them still joined.
She made a little gasp and her muscles contracted around him in a way that had his flesh stirring again. Already he envisioned them in the large bath, him taking her again. So fast and hard, that the water spilled over the side and to the floor.
Dio. It was never enough. He couldn’t have his fill of her.
“I think it’s only a matter of time before your staff start talking about us,” she murmured.
“If they’re not yet talking, then we’re doing it wrong,” he mused. “Besides, my staff is the epitome of discreet.”
And they absolutely were. But he knew they were curious about Rachel, because never had he brought a woman here for more than a night at most. It was rare he brought one at all. And this week he and Rachel had been inseparable. There might even be speculation that he was in love.
But no. His lips twisted with a semi-bitter smile. Love would never be in his cards, and if it ever seemed to be he’d draw a new hand. Love made you weak and do foolish things.
The memory of how he’d forgotten to put on protection, even just for a minute, made his blood chill. He always took charge of protection and never left it up to the woman to remember. It was too easy to forget a pill. Too easy to catch a disease.
Not that he suspected Rachel had anything to catch, but you could never be too careful. And even if he’d wanted to forgo protection and they both agreed to be tested, he would never not use a condom.
Never, ever, would he make that mistake again.
Much as she wanted to be relaxed, Rachel couldn’t help the tension that invaded her body as they arrived outside Christina Mantovani’s condo in Milan.
This would be the last stop before they boarded Damiano’s private plane to take them back to New York. These were their final moments in what had turned into a magical week in Italy.
She chided herself for being selfish in not wanting this lunch to make up her final hours in the country. Christina was wary of the women in her son’s life, as no doubt any mother would be. What Rachel struggled to understand, was why Maria might be included in the lunch.
“I’m sorry to put you through this again, Dolcezza.” Damiano took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I should’ve simply told her no and pleaded lack of time.”
“She’s your mother,” Rachel said gently. “You love her and it makes complete sense that you’d want to see her before we leave.”
His brows drew together in a scowl. “This lunch will be short, I promise.”
“I’ll manage.”
He cupped her chin and pressed a firm kiss on her lips. “You will. You’re amazing that way.”
They were out of the vehicle and in the condo a few moments later. Her muscles were wrapped in tension as they stepped in through the doorway and she glanced around.
When Christina came striding into the entryway alone, it gave Rachel hope. Maybe, just maybe, Maria wasn’t—
“Damiano, so lovely to see you!”
Rachel’s heart sank and she tried hard to keep her expression from blatant irritation.
“Maria.” Damiano took her hands and kissed her cheeks. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Your mother asked me to come help pick out curtains for her upstairs rooms. She was kind enough to invite to stay for lunch.” Maria gave a slow smile, full of faux innocence, and glanced at Rachel and then back to Damiano. “I hope I am not intruding.”
Damiano gave a small, unconcerned shrug. “You are helping my mother, we would hardly protest.”
Maria’s smile grew. “Good. And don’t you look well. Full of color from your time at the lake. Vacation appears to suit you.”
When the woman practically devoured Damiano with her eyes, Rachel balled her hands into fists as jealousy ate away at her gut. This luncheon couldn’t be over soon enough.
Fortunately they were seated and eating rather soon after. Conversation was polite and not too painful, and she could see the end in sight when Damiano began checking his watch.
“We must leave soon for our flight, mama.”
“Sí, of course, Dami.” Christina pushed back her chair and stood. “But first, you must help me hang the curtains I’ve purchased today. I’m much too clumsy and petite.”
“You did not have one of your staff do it for you?”
“Why should I when I have a strong, healthy son?” She grinned and patted his shoulder. “Come, come. It’ll just be a minute of your time.”
Rachel’s small smile stayed frozen in place. Oh god. He’d left her alone with Maria. And the silence that swelled between them had Rachel shifting in her chair.
“You have enjoyed your week in Italy?” Maria finally asked politely.
Polite was good. She could handle polite. Maybe even return it. “It was lovely, as usual, thank you.”
Maria’s smile was patient, and maybe a bit sympathetic. “You should enjoy it all while it lasts. I highly doubt it will be much longer.”
And out came the claws. Well then, she wasn’t about to keep hers sheathed. “You sound quite sure about that. Perhaps it’s wishful thinking so that you might have a chance with him?”
Maria laughed, sounding genuinely amused. “You mean another chance, no?”
Another. “Pardon?”
“For such a serious relationship you two supposedly have, it is surprising he did not tell you.” Maria leaned back in her chair, lifting her glass of wine and taking a slow sip. “Damiano and I were childhood sweethearts. First loves, you see.”
A chill slid through Rachel as she tried to absorb the words. Was it a lie? It had to have been. Damiano would’ve told her if he and Maria had been together in the past. Wouldn’t he have?
Doubt pricked and she swallowed uneasily. “Well, clearly he has no intention of returning to his first love. If your story is even true.”
Maria’s smile was smug. “It’s true. We had a falling out, but we were young. Perhaps some poor choices were made. But I know we will be together. So does his mother. Damiano and I are cut from the same cloth, as you say it? We understand what it means to be born into a world of privilege. To move in the same powerful circles.”
“That has very little to do with loving someone.”
“And that’s where you’re most naïve.” Maria leaned forward. “When he is ready, Damiano will never marry for love. His marriage will be as calculated as any business deal he makes. Someone who looks good on paper and to his family. I am quite suited to both of those, and can offer him children of Italian blood. The only thing you are best suited for is being his assistant at the office, and his whore in the bedroom.”
Rachel blanched, stunned at how vehement this discussion had become. “You know...you’re kind of a bitch.”
“There is no ‘kind of’ about it. I know exactly what I am.” Maria lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “And I know what I want in life, and where I belong. That is at Damiano’s side.”
“It will never happen.” Rachel pushed back her chair, needing to get out of this condo and out of Milan now.
An hour ago she’d dreaded leaving. Now it was all she wanted. To be airborne and leaving Italy and this vile woman.
She grabbed her purse and fled the condo. She would send Damiano a text and let him know he could find her in the heart of the city. But she could not, would not, spend one more minute with his vicious past lover.
Maria’s words had sunk in as if they were barbed. Resounding in her head and making her question everything from the past week. Had she begun to hope that Damiano cared for her? That he might even want a future?
He’d told her more than once that he didn’t do permanent, but when he’d touch her, when they’d come together, she sensed his actions belied his words. His lips said one thing, his touch another.
But maybe Damiano was like this with every woman he bedded. Maybe it was the romantic, Italian way. Had she let her foolish romantic soul believe it was something more? Had she possibly fallen in love with her boss?
The way her heart ached right now, she knew she had. Oh god, she was totally screwed.
Maria might very well be right. Damiano probably had an age picked out that he wouldn’t marry before, and probably had a list of specifications that she would need to fill. Italian. Catholic. Bombshell. All of the above.
Rachel fit the bill on none of those things.
His assistant at the office, and his whore in the bedroom.
The words looped in her head and she stifled a sob as she moved past the fashionably dressed women on the streets of Milan.
Maybe she was his whore. She was still receiving her salary this week, and the biggest thing she’d done to earn it was sleep with him.
Earlier she’d thought this week to be magical, but now she could clearly see past the sparkly façade. To him it had been nothing but sex. To her, it had been like a fairytale.
That would be her downfall.
Chapter 20
The plane had been airborne for maybe thirty minutes, when Damiano finally tired of the frigid silence.
“Tell me what happened.”
He’d made the request more than once in the past hour, but she’d refused to reply. It had taken him nearly a half hour to locate her wandering the streets of Milan.
She seemed furious. Distant. And, though he couldn’t figure out why, completely irritated with him.
Just as the times before, she didn’t answer his question, but stared into the magazine she looked at. She’d picked a seat several away from him. Putting as much distance between them as she could it seemed.
He suspected some form of nasty conversation had happened between Maria and Rachel while he was helping his mother. Dio, he should’ve seen her request for help as the distraction it undoubtedly was.
“Rachel.” He dropped a curse. “Enough of this childish silence. Answer me now.”
“Was she your lover?”
His stomach clenched at the calm question, even as she still didn’t look up. When he took a moment to answer, though, she did lift her gaze. It was as frigid as her demeanor had been the last hour.
“Sí.” There was no reason to lie, and he knew he should’ve told her the truth to begin with. “She was. But it was years ago.”
“Childhood sweethearts. So I heard.” She lifted an eyebrow at him, and her tone was mocking.
“Emphasis on the world childhood. We were barely adults.”
“You should’ve told me. You led me to believe she was a random woman your mother was attempting to set you up with. Not a past lover.”
“It’s irrelevant. I don’t see why you’re so upset.”
“Yes, well you weren’t subjected to her verbal assault.”
“I should’ve never left you two alone.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” She shook her head. “Or you know, maybe I’m glad you did. It’s exactly what I needed to hear.”
“What did she say?” The hairs on the back of his neck lifted, his stomach grew queasy, even as he reminded himself Maria would never talk about that.
She just shook her head and refused to answer.
“Dio, nothing has changed, Dolcezza. So she spat some vicious words to you, it doesn’t change what’s between the two of us.”
“And what is that? Sex? Or, I’m sorry, making love.”
Unease slid through him at the heaviness in the word. As if the phrase was tawdry now.
“You want more.” It wasn’t a question.
“And if I did?” She held his gaze. “Would you give it?�
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Heat stole up his neck and his jaw clenched. “We’ve discussed this.”
“Yes, we have. You don’t do serious.”
“Enough,” he rasped, unfastening his seatbelt and crossing the small distance on the plane to her.
“What are you doing?” Her eyes widened and she shrunk back in her seat.
He ignored her question as he unfastened her belt and then lifted her straight out of the seat. She made a cry of protest that ended on a gasp as he settled back down with her on his lap now.
“Whatever she said, whatever doubts she’s planted in your head,” he kissed her trembling lips once, “ignore them. Only believe this.”
He held her chin as he kissed her fully now. Coaxing her lips apart so he could taste the addictive sweetness beyond.
She remained still for a moment, not responding, and he could nearly hear the thoughts in her head going a mile a minute. But then she clearly capitulated as her body softened against him and her tongue slid out to move against his.
When he lifted his head, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I only want you, Dolcezza. You must know that.”
“For how long?” Her question was nearly a broken whisper.
“Until you no longer wish to be with me.”
She lifted her head and met his gaze. “And what about when you’re done with me?”
His chest tightened. Usually after a week he’d be growing bored with a lover, but somehow he was insatiable with Rachel. The idea of ending things today struck a spark of panic within him that he hated to acknowledge.
“I will never be anything but honest with you.” He touched her damp, plump bottom lip. “I won’t promise you more than what we already have, but I hope you are willing to continue with the way things have been the last week. You were happy, no?”
It took a moment before she gave a small nod. “I was. Yes.”
“Then forget Maria and what she said. This is between the two of us only.”
She gave a small sigh and closed her eyes tight. “Though I may regret it later, I’ll agree to continue.”
Taught by the Tycoon Page 12
