by T. K. Leigh
“I’ll only be a minute.” I was about to turn from him when he stopped me, yanking my body against his. His sudden movement nearly took the breath from me.
“I want you to do something for me,” he murmured in a seductive voice that made part of me want to rip off my dress and have him pin me against this very wall.
I swallowed hard. “Yes?”
“I want you to bring me your panties.”
My breath hitched and I blinked, peering into his dark, hooded eyes. Smiling a playful smile, I raised myself onto my toes, brushing my lips against his neck. I felt a shiver roll through him, loving that I had such an effect on him.
“I’d rather you take them off.”
His grip on me tightened. “As do I,” he answered, his voice almost a growl. “But remember our little game. You do as I say and you get rewarded. I’d love nothing more than to bend you over and rip those panties off with my teeth. But that will have to wait until later. So go in there, do what you need to do, and bring me your panties.” He cupped my ass, squeezing hard. “Do you understand, passerotta?”
All I could do was nod in response, rendered mute.
“Bene.” He released his hold on me, and I began to walk away. I’d only managed a few steps before I felt a hand grab my elbow, my eyes widening as I was tugged against his body again. “One more thing, Eleanor.”
“Yes?” I swallowed hard, my heart in my throat as heat bloomed on my cheeks.
He leaned toward me, peppering kisses down my jawline. “Are you wet right now?”
My chest heaved as my cheeks heated. I was sure my appearance had grown flushed over the course of the past few minutes. Licking my lips, I closed the distance between our mouths. “Soaked,” I whispered.
He clenched his jaw, then released me from his hold. “Go. Now.”
With a smile, I turned from him, glancing over my shoulder. Satisfaction coursed through me when I saw he was barely maintaining his composure as he watched me with an unwavering gaze. Blowing him a kiss, I ducked into the restroom, my body trembling…in the best way possible.
I walked past a long row of stalls, although stall wasn’t quite the right word. Each toilet was in its own small room. I stepped into one toward the end, locking the door behind me just as I felt my phone buzz in my clutch. I retrieved it, seeing a text from Dante.
Tick-tock, passerotta.
My cheeks flushing, I hurriedly went about my business. When I was done, I crumbled my panties into a ball, shoved them into my clutch, then stepped out of the stall, heading to the long line of sinks to wash my hands.
As I emerged back into the lobby, Dante’s eyes raked over me, a devious glint in his gaze. He slowly walked toward me, a scintillating dominance in his stride.
“I believe you have something for me?” He cocked a brow.
“I do.” I opened my clutch, doing my best to discreetly remove the bright red lacy panties and hand them to him.
He made no effort to hide them. Instead, he brought them up to his nose, inhaling a long breath. My eyes widened and I reached to take them from him, shooting a nervous glance at everyone surrounding us. What if a camera had picked that up?
He grasped my wrist, preventing me from ripping them out of his hands. “Don’t. You have no idea how much I want to bury my face between your legs, Eleanor. This is the next best thing.”
“But people might see you.” I chewed on my lower lip.
“Let them. I don’t care. In fact, I want them to see me, to see us.” Smiling deviously, he arranged my panties in the breast pocket of his tuxedo jacket, ignoring the horror crawling across my face.
I knew there was no winning this battle with him. I’d be lying if I said the idea of him using my panties as a pocket square didn’t excite me even more than I already was. “Just promise you won’t whip them out when you go up there to make your acceptance speech.” I placed my hands on his lapels.
“I make no guarantees for my behavior tonight. I never can when you’re around. You bring out something inside me.” He clasped my hand, leading me across the lobby.
“What’s that?” We followed the crowd, everyone getting ready to take their seats for the start of the awards.
“It’s hard to explain.” He tugged me closer as we navigated our way down the long aisle toward the front of the theater. “A strange sort of protectiveness. I want everyone to see you with me, but I want to throttle every man who even thinks about looking at you in a way I don’t like. I want everyone to know you’re mine…” He leaned toward me, his lips close to my skin, heating my flesh. “That only my cum has ever filled you, that only my teeth have ever tugged on your nipples, that only my tongue has ever licked your pussy.”
My breathing grew ragged as I tried to maintain my composure, cameras and lights everywhere. Any number of photographers could have snapped my picture and seen how flushed and unhinged I was just from Dante’s words. I was ready to haul him out of this theater, award be damned.
“If you keep going, I may just come right now,” I murmured, feeling lightheaded.
“You’d better not. Not unless I say so.” He narrowed his gaze as he slowed to a stop about eight rows from the stage. “Remember our game, as long as you’re still willing to keep playing.”
I lifted my lips to his. “I never want it to end,” I said against his mouth.
“Good girl.” He paused, then pulled away, acting as calm and unaffected as usual as he turned his attention toward several members of his production team who had already arrived. He introduced me around, all of them saying something to the effect of “So this is Eleanor,” to which Dante simply smiled, tightening his hold on me.
When the show was about to begin, Dante pulled me into my seat beside him right on the aisle, which increased my suspicions he was probably going to win. The lights dimmed, and I was immersed in a mesmerizing display of talent. I normally hated sitting through speech after speech, but being here in person was completely different. It was inspiring to sit mere feet away from some of the most gifted people in this industry, to hear them talk about how they never thought they’d get here, how they truly believed some higher power intervened and made it all possible.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Dante leaned toward me during one of the music breaks, resting his hand on my thigh. I could have been wrong, but I was fairly certain he had the slit in the skirt elongated so it ran almost all the way up to my hip.
I met his eyes, smiling. “I am.”
He leaned even closer. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to sit next to you knowing you’re not wearing any panties.”
I studied his demeanor, the epitome of composure and poise. But what his behavior masked, his eyes couldn’t — the fire, the heat, the unmistakable urgency I saw making me breathless with a yearning of my own.
He reached for my shawl that was draped haphazardly at my side, arranging it over my legs. My eyes widened as his hand slithered beneath the sheer fabric, sliding under the slit of my dress, urging my legs apart.
I held my breath, staring at Dante, my inner voice telling me this was wrong. He simply smirked, leaning toward me once more. “I want to feel you, Eleanor.”
The sensation of his breath so near my skin sent a ripple through me and my muscles relaxed, my legs parting slightly. His finger lighted against my center, and a sigh fell from my lips.
“I know you want this, too.”
I did my best to maintain the little composure I had left, my body wound tight from the lead-up to this moment. I’d wanted Dante to fuck me in the elevator of the hotel. Hell, I was ready to crawl onto his lap and straddle him while we waited in that long line of limos. Once we’d arrived here, having to stand at his side and see him smirking at me all evening, my panties stuffed in the pocket of his tuxedo jacket, I was ready to lose all control. I needed to lose all control.
“Tell me you want this,” Dante whispered, his voice still demanding.
“I want this,” I murmured back.
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He released a subtle groan, his nose grazing my neck, inhaling. “They’re getting ready to announce the nominees for my category,” he said, his voice still a low whisper as he continued rubbing my slickness all over me, inserting a finger, then another, stretching me.
I moved against him, my hunger for release overpowering all sense of reason or propriety. With each word, each kiss, each whisper of his desire, everything my parents had ingrained in my subconscious was slowly being dismantled by this amazing, passionate, sensual man.
“The cameras will be on us for a moment when they do so.” His rhythm increased. “I have no intention of taking my hand away.”
I held my breath, gripping the armrests tighter as my body loomed perilously close to the peak.
“And I have no intention of doing so until you come, even if they announce I’m the winner. I’m not going up there until you come all over my fingers. And every time you see me lift my hand to my nose, you’ll know it’s your scent I’m inhaling, your scent I’m getting hard over.”
I bit back the moan that wanted to fall from my lips, moving with more urgency, but still trying not to be obvious about what we were doing. This man was going to be the death of me. Death by orgasm sounded like the best way to go, though.
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I heard the announcers come on stage to introduce the category Dante was nominated in. One of the cameramen approached, crouching down in the aisle to get the shot needed. This only forced Dante to fuck me with his fingers even harder. I tried to pretend the camera wasn’t there, to act as if my obviously flushed expression wasn’t about to be plastered all over television screens across the country while Dante had his hand between my legs, to act as if my parents weren’t about to throw a fit of epic proportions when they realized I was with him. None of that mattered right now. All that did was making Dante happy. And giving him my orgasm would make him happy.
They began announcing the nominees, and Dante clutched my chin with his free hand, forcing my eyes to him. “Look at me. Just see me. No one else right now.”
“Only you,” I breathed, keeping my gaze locked on his, even when he broke away to smile at the camera as they announced his name as a nominee.
I didn’t look away until one of the announcers said those familiar words. “And the winner is…” The seconds seemed to stretch as one of the celebrities on stage opened the envelope, then smiled at the audience. My body climbed higher and higher, my motions becoming more and more frenzied as I chased my orgasm. “Dante Luciano, for No Stone Unturned.” My breathing becoming even more ragged, my muscles clenching, I bit my lip to stop myself from screaming from the ecstasy shooting through me, my body quivering around Dante’s hand at the same time as the audience erupted in applause.
Shooting me a devious smile, his hand lingered between my legs for a moment longer, then he withdrew. He slowly stood, turning to me and bringing me to my feet, although my limbs felt shaky as my orgasm still swelled through me.
I tried to give him space, to let him bask in this moment of victory. It was his. He worked hard for this and deserved the spotlight. Instead, he folded his arms around me, crushing my body against his, his lips moving against mine, leaving me breathless. Much to my surprise, I made no move to push him away for fear the world would witness this exchange. In fact, I wanted them to see us, to see that this man was mine and I his, to see how much he loved me, how much he craved me, how much he burned for me.
I curved into him, running my hands through his hair as I felt the final chain my parents had shackled around me incinerate with the heat of Dante’s kiss, the ecstasy in his touch, the admiration in his love.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“GOD, THIS THING IS a lot heavier than I imagined it would be,” I said as I stepped into the suite, a little tipsy from all the champagne I’d consumed throughout the evening, first at the post-awards ball, then at one of the many afterparties we’d attended in Hollywood. I should have been exhausted, considering it was after two, but I felt energized. I didn’t want the night to end.
When Dante didn’t say anything in response, I whirled around, my breath catching from the magnitude in his stormy eyes. The fun, light atmosphere I’d enjoyed as we stumbled from the limo and into the lobby of the hotel, laughing at something I can’t even remember, had vanished in a flash. It was like Dante had flipped a switch the instant we crossed the threshold into the suite. And based on everything I knew about my enigmatic, seductive, duplicitous man, that was precisely what happened.
“Eleanor…” He strode toward me as I remained locked in place, anxiously awaiting his approach.
I had the good fortune of seeing Dante in so many different scenarios… The cocky Italian who hit on the woman across the aisle from him on the plane. The sensual man who opened my mind, body, and heart to what was possible. The tortured soul who cried in my arms at the memory of his daughter. And the passionate man who kissed me in a way I’d never been kissed. But none of those compared to the way his tumultuous gaze locked on mine as he slowly stalked toward me, a hunter taunting his prey, a monster chasing his mark, a killer pursuing his next victim.
With each step he took, my heart pounded against my chest, threatening to burst through the walls keeping it trapped. I didn’t know why I was so nervous, so on edge, so jittery. Dante and I had been intimate more times than I could count. He’d been rough and commanding with me since the very beginning. But there was something drastically different about this.
The game wasn’t over yet.
When he was just a whisper away, his eyes glaring down at me like I was an errant child, he reached for the gold statue in my hand. I allowed him to take it. I wanted to look away, but couldn’t, as if his mere presence had commanded my gaze to remain on his.
He ran a finger down my cheek, my teeth chattering from the chill enveloping me. Pinching my chin, he forced my head back, his scrupulous stare seeming to analyze every inch of me.
“Tell me, Eleanor,” he began, licking his lips.
“Yes?” I breathed.
“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”
“Yes, Dante.”
His lips drew near mine, his breath sweet from the liquor he’d consumed. “What did you like most about it?”
My eyelids fluttered closed, the heat, the fire, the burn of his mouth so close to mine causing desperation to wash over me. I needed him to kiss me, to feel his hands on my flesh, to surrender to him completely — my body, my heart, my love.
“When you kissed me after they announced you were the winner.”
“Oh really?” He released his hold on my chin, his motions quick as he gripped my hip, spinning me around so I faced away from him. I wanted to turn back and peer into his eyes, so I could feel his lips on mine, so I could rake my fingers through his hair. He pressed his hand against my stomach, forcing me into him. “What did you like about it?”
“The way you didn’t try to hide me, that you weren’t ashamed of being with me, that you had no problem letting the world see how much you want me.”
“Not want, Eleanor.” His lips met the crook of my neck. “Need.” His grip on me tightened, arms pulling me even harder against him as his teeth grazed my skin. “Just like you need me.”
I smirked. “A little confident of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Perhaps.” He reached up, his hand lightly clutching my throat. The heat of his skin on mine, coupled with the slight pressure he applied, caused my pulse to soar. His hand floated from my neck, smoothing down my collarbone, then landed between the groove of my breasts. “But based on the way you’ve been eye-fucking me all night long…”
He grabbed my nipple between his fingers, tugging, forcing a yelp from me. It didn’t matter that my dress acted as a barrier between my flesh and his hands. The ache was still as pronounced as it would have been had I been naked. He lowered his mouth back to my neck, clamping down with his teeth. He made no move to be gentle, to be loving, to be merciful. He was the Dan
te I’d met on the plane. The Dante who slammed me against the brick building in an alley in Rome when I knew nothing about him. The Dante who recklessly fucked me in the bathroom of a museum. I loved the affectionate, doting Dante. But damn if I didn’t crave the erotic, salacious version of him.
“One thing is certain…” I could almost hear the smile in his tone.
“What’s that?” I panted, his hold on my nipple only tightening. I reached behind me, scraping my hands through his coarse hair, needing something to hold as I struggled to breathe through the welcome throbbing.
“I own you,” he snarled.
I swallowed hard, moaning. The old Ellie would have thought that was so oppressive, so barbaric, so degrading. But this new, enlightened person I’d become didn’t. I knew Dante loved me, respected me, admired me. I also knew he had a carnal need to claim me as his. I’d realized that about him from the very beginning. And I wanted to be branded by him, wanted his mark left on me, inside and out.
“Say it.” His hand shifted to my throat once more, his lips skimming my neck.
I felt lightheaded, my chest heaving as I struggled to make sense of the need filling me. I was desperate to feel Dante’s skin on mine, to kneel before this man and make him feel as admired as I had all night.
“You own me,” I murmured. When he loosened his hold on me, I used the opportunity to turn around and face him. I grabbed his hand in mine, placing it over my heart. “You own this. You have since the very beginning.”
The animalistic craving in his gaze faltered momentarily, my words cracking the armor he wore. I stepped away from him and reached behind me, slowly lowering the zipper on my gown, shrugging out of the straps and allowing it to pool at my feet. I stood in front of him, wearing nothing but the jewelry he bought me and my shoes, my panties still tucked in the breast pocket of Dante’s tuxedo jacket.
Approaching him once more, I took his hand in mine again. I moved to bring it back to my breast, then caught him by surprise when I forced it between my thighs instead. “And this… This is all yours.”
