by T. K. Leigh
His fingers lightly squeezed one of my nipples, the pink bud pebbling under his touch. It wasn’t rough or callous as I expected it would be.
“Harder,” I pleaded.
The slightest hint of a groan rumbled from his throat, as if he was at war with himself, as if he wanted to prolong the game, but at the same time, bury himself in me, mark me, claim me, brand me, do whatever he had to in order for the world to know I belonged to him…and he me.
“This wasn’t supposed to be my life. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“What?” I arched into him, throwing my head back as he ran his hand down my stomach.
“I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.”
“Then why did you?” My voice was breathy, husky, full of need.
“Because of fate. Because she knew I needed this. That I needed to love again. That I could have everything I’d ever dreamed of in you.”
“What’s that?” I swallowed hard, a hint of unease filtering into my brain, a tiny voice reminding me that I wasn’t nearly as experienced or adventurous as Dante seemed to be. Before I met him, I’d never even been on top during sex, let alone kneeling, blindfolded and tied up. What if he just wanted me now because I was new and exciting, a shiny plaything? What if he got bored? What if I couldn’t live up to what he wanted, what he needed?
“You. Now and forevermore.”
“Even if I need to end the game?” I asked in a timid voice.
With haste, he removed the mask from my face, scrambling in front of me so he could peer into my eyes, questioning, concerned. “Is it too much?” He searched my face, frantic. “I never—”
I pressed my mouth to his, ripping his words from him. His body stiffened, confused. I ran my tongue along his lips, coaxing them open. Finally, he melted into me, our kiss sweet, soft, tender.
I pulled away so he could see the determination in my gaze. “Put it back on, Dante.” Then I lowered my eyes, portraying a more subservient version of myself. When he made no move to slip the mask back over my face, I lifted my gaze to his. “Please, sir,” I added, then lowered my head even more.
With a groan, he raised the mask, returning it to my face, my world dark again. It was quiet on the balcony, the only sound that of my breathing pierced with the occasional car whistling by at the late hour.
Emboldened by his love, concern, and my desire to be able to live up to what he needed, I murmured, “I want to taste you.” My muscles tightened as I licked my lips, desperate to please Dante, to make him experience the same high I did every time he drove into me.
He cupped my cheek in his rough hand. I melted into the contact, the warmth like a comforting bath, easing all my worry, washing away my sins.
“I pray to God every day and thank him for you, mia bella passerotta.” His thumb ghosted against my lips and I opened eagerly, my tongue darting out to taste his skin. I heard him draw in a shaky breath, even the muscle in his finger tightening as I sensually sucked on it, giving him a preview of what he could expect. “I thank him for your love…” I heard the faint rustling of clothes, a zipper lowering, causing my heart to soar in my chest. Then he removed his thumb from my mouth, leaving me greedy for more, an addict ready to claw at her skin for her next fix. “For your devotion to me…” The sound of fabric hitting the balcony made its way to my ears. “And for this beautiful fucking mouth.”
He pressed his erection against my lips. I was all too eager to open for him. When I did, his hips thrust with a fevered rhythm. The sudden motion caught me off guard, my body stiffening as I struggled to keep pace.
He ran his finger down my cheek and jaw. “Relax your muscles, passerotta. I want you to taste all of me.”
I drew as deep a breath as I could, doing my best to follow his instructions. He wrapped his hand around my hair, guiding me.
“Yes,” he hissed. I could almost picture the bliss and ecstasy rolling over his face, his eyes closed, his jaw clenched. “Just like that.”
He continued pushing into me, driving a little deeper each time. I relaxed my fists, the rest of the muscles in my body following suit. With his next thrust, he hit the back of my throat, the growl coming from him making me feel more alluring, more alive, more complete than anything else in my life.
“Shit, Eleanor,” he groaned, his erection becoming rigid. He slowed his motions, but I continued, finding my rhythm, relaxing my throat with each drive to take even more of him as he grew bigger and harder, veins bulging, muscles throbbing.
He released a strangled cry, then quickly let go of me, stepping back. A chill washed over me.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked softly, lowering my head. I was desperate to feel him, to taste him, to please him.
Apart from his labored breathing, it was silent. Then I felt his lips on mine, his tongue plunging into my mouth, exploring with haste, with need, with unmatched hunger.
He pulled away, panting. “Quite the opposite. I was about to lose it, Eleanor. And as much as I want to shoot my cum down your throat…” There was a brief pause, “I’d rather shoot it in here.” His hand rested on my stomach, then traveled past my hipbone, my muscles clenching as he lifted my folds, spreading my wetness around.
Licking my lips, I gingerly shifted my legs farther apart. “Then what are you waiting for?”
Before I knew what was happening, he grabbed my elbow and helped me to my feet. He quickly loosened the silk material binding my wrists behind me, then re-secured them in front of me. He raised my arms, hooking them around his neck, and lifted me, carrying me. I counted his steps. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. I couldn’t tell which direction we had walked. All I knew was we were still outside.
With me enclosed in his secure embrace, he nuzzled my neck, inhaling a long breath. “Do you trust me?”
“Why do you keep asking me that?”
“It’s very important that I keep hearing you do. That’s the only way this will work.”
“I trust you, Dante.”
He carefully lowered my feet before gripping my hips and placing me on a smooth surface. I would have given anything to be able to feel around to see where I was. I could have been on the dining table. The built-in wet bar. One of the side tables. The wide ledge of the balcony. God, I hoped I wasn’t on the ledge. My heart rate picked up, my entire body tightening.
“Don’t let go, no matter what.”
“Dante…” I couldn’t mask my panic.
“I love you, Eleanor. I would never do anything you couldn’t handle, anything that would put you in harm’s way. I need you to understand that everything I’ve done since you walked onto that plane back in June, every decision I’ve made, has all been to keep you safe.”
I opened my mouth to respond, his words laced with a thousand hidden meanings.
“It’s all been to keep you safe,” he murmured, pushing into me before I could voice any further hesitation. All concern about what his words could refer to disappeared almost instantly, my brain and mind consumed with only one thought, with feeling, with experiencing.
One hand palmed my back, his other tangled in my hair. I had no idea where I was, whether I was somewhere safe and secure or dangling precariously off a fourteenth-floor balcony. But even if I were poised on that ledge, I knew I was safe and secure. I would always be safe and secure as long as I had Dante.
I arched into him, pulsing against him with more intensity, more urgency, more everything. I was close…so close. My muscles clenched. My toes curled. A heat burned low in my stomach. A match struck, flaming my need. I didn’t think I’d ever get my fill of this man. It didn’t matter how much he gave. I would take and take, greedy, needy, ravenous.
Able to read my body, he clamped his mouth on mine, stealing a kiss, a thief swindling an abiding victim. “Come for me, Eleanor. Now,” he growled. At the same instant, he removed the mask from my face, my eyes widening as my fear became a reality. My grip on him tightened, pulse skyrocketing as I struggled not to watch the eye mas
k leisurely float fourteen floors below me.
Dante grabbed my chin, forcing my eyes back to his. “Don’t look at anything else. Just look at me. Only see me.” He drove into me with hunger, need, everything, waves cresting and crashing inside me. My body catapulted higher, any fear I’d momentarily felt leaving me as I came hard, fast, violently, my legs tightening around his waist, wanting more, wanting all of him. Moaning. Screaming. Shattering.
“That’s right, baby,” Dante grunted, chasing his own orgasm.
I met his eyes, noticing the tie around my wrists had loosened from all the friction. My heart racing, I broke free from my bindings, keeping my gaze trained on Dante as I clutched onto his biceps, gingerly using his arms to steady me as I leaned back.
“Eleanor, what are you—”
“I trust you,” I interrupted. “You gave me my wings.” My words came out breathy as I placed my hands behind me on the wide ledge. It felt like I was in another world, another time, another universe. “Now I want to fly.”
He muttered something in Italian, his rhythm relentless as he fucked me on the balcony of a luxury hotel in Los Angeles, the stars fighting to be seen among the twinkling lights of the city.
“You. Are. Mine.” His voice was strained, grunting a word with each thrust. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“I. Own. You.”
God, it was so barbaric, so demeaning, but so satisfying to hear those words leaving his mouth. It was true. This man owned my body. My heart. My soul.
“Say it!”
I closed my eyes, leaning even farther back, my body on the precipice of falling over the edge with him.
“You own me, Dante.”
His body tightened as he cried out my name, a warmth spreading through me. I clenched around him again, this orgasm even more intense, more powerful, more violent. Instantly, he pulled me into his arms and away from the ledge, out of harm’s way, pausing to catch his breath. I rested my head against his chest, my heart drumming in time with his.
Neither one of us said a word as he held me, taking a moment to allow us to come down from our high. Then he carried me back into the suite and placed me on what had become my side of the bed, pulling the luxurious duvet over me. My body still tingled with the aftershocks of my orgasm, but I was exhausted, my eyes struggling to stay open.
The other side of the bed dipped and Dante’s arms were around me once more, enveloping my small body. His fingers grazed my nape, unfastening my necklace before delicately removing my bracelet and earrings, as well.
“I adore you, amore mio.” He brushed my hair behind my ear, leaving a soft kiss on my neck.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I murmured in a tired voice, a satisfied grin pulling on my lips as I melted into the mattress, sleep just a blink away.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
It was quiet for a moment before I said, “Dante?”
“Hmm?”
“Can we play that game again sometime? I really liked that game.”
I felt him harden against me. “Of course, my beautiful Eleanor. Now sleep, my queen, my goddess.” He pulled me even closer, his lips lingering on my nape. “I’ll be your knight in shining armor and slay all the dragons that find you in your sleep.”
I briefly stilled, wanting to ask him what he meant by that, but my brain refused to tell my mouth to open, my voice box to say the words. I drifted off, spiraling far away from the glitz and glamour of this fake life I’d been living with Dante as dreams I wouldn’t realize I’d been having for several more weeks tormented me, making me cry out, scaring Dante more than anything else…more than walking in on the mother of his child with a needle in her arm, more than holding his mother’s hand as she drew her last breath, more than watching a child-sized casket be lowered into the ground.
Maybe if he had said something, if someone had, I would have figured out the truth long ago.
Then again, maybe that was precisely why no one had told me.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A LOUD CHIMING TORE through the room, waking me from a dead sleep, every inch of me sore from the previous night’s calisthenics. At first, I ignored the relentless sound, but when my phone began ringing once more, I blinked my eyes open, staring at the screen. I should have expected this.
When I started to answer, Dante grabbed my arm, preventing me from doing so. “Don’t.”
“It’s my mother,” I insisted. “She won’t give up until I talk to her.” I glanced at the screen just as the ringing stopped, seeing I had six missed calls from her…and that I’d also slept through my alarm. “Shit.” I shot up in bed, steadying myself against the sudden dizziness that overcame me.
“What is it?” Dante asked groggily.
“I have to be at work at nine.”
“How much do you make?”
“Not enough,” I mumbled.
“I’ll pay you triple. Quadruple. I don’t care. Just stay with me.”
“I have clients who need me. I can’t just not show up.”
He lowered his hand to his waist and stroked what I could tell was his hard erection. “I need you, too.” A salacious smile crossed his face, his grin lazy.
I playfully shoved him, but he grabbed my wrist, yanking me back down to the mattress. He pinned me on my back, my hair sprawled out on the pillow behind me.
“You were the most beautiful woman there last night.” He curved toward me, grinding against me, eliciting a moan. “But I expected as much. You’re the most stunning and alluring woman on the planet.” His lips met mine. His kiss was tender, soft, unhurried as he took his time, showing me how much he needed me. “And you’re all mine.”
“Yes,” I breathed, raking my hands through his hair. “All yours.”
“All mine,” he repeated just as my phone incessantly chimed once more.
I dropped my hand to the mattress, pushing away from Dante. “She won’t give up until I answer. If she doesn’t get an answer, she’ll track me down. I’d rather have this conversation over the phone.”
With a heavy sigh, he reluctantly released his hold on me, allowing me to sit up.
I took a minute to compose myself, then adjusted my face, regardless of the fact that she couldn’t see me. It was a habit.
“Good morning, Mother,” I said in as bright and chipper a voice as possible, wondering if she could tell just by my tone what sinful and debaucherous things I’d done the night before. Then again, she didn’t need to hear it in my tone. We’d given the world quite the show, from the way Dante gripped me possessively during his red carpet interview, to the way his hand never left my exposed leg during the ceremony, then to the way he kissed me the instant he was announced the winner… He’d left no question as to his need for me.
“Do you have any idea what I’ve been dealing with over the past twelve hours?” she said immediately, her tone hurried, incensed, frantic. “Ever since the television coverage of you with that…that man, I’ve been on damage control for your father. Do you have any idea how bad this looks? That his own daughter is… Well, I can’t even say it. Decent people don’t speak of the things you engaged in last night. I just… This is an election year, Ellie.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” I retorted, my voice condescending. I could picture her eyes widening from my response. I would have paid a huge amount of money to see it first-hand.
“Well, I never!”
“You should, Mother. Maybe it would loosen the stick that’s been up your ass the past, oh, at least twenty-eight years.”
“I… You… That man. Do you know he’s a…” She lowered her voice, as if speaking a horrible truth, “liberal?”
“So am I.”
She scoffed. “No, you’re not, Ellie. This is just a rebellious stage. You made your point. You didn’t want to marry Brock. He wasn’t right for you. We should have listened.”
“This is not a rebellious stage,” I answered, making it sound as if this whole conversation was old a
nd tired…because it was. “Go ahead and pull my voting record. You’ll see I’ve never voted for a Republican candidate.”
“But…your father. And Brock!”
“Like I said, I’ve never voted Republican.”
It was silent for a moment as she stewed on this information. “You are so ungrateful, Ellie. After everything I’ve sacrificed.”
“You just keep telling yourself that. Whatever you need to do to make yourself feel good. You didn’t sacrifice anything to raise me. You hired someone to do it so you didn’t have to.”
“So what? Because I had duties and obligations you now want to get back at me by slutting it up with a man who represents everything that’s wrong with this country?”
My spine immediately stiffened, my voice caught in my throat at her words. All the confidence I’d felt immediately waned.
“Slutting it up?” I repeated, unsure I’d really heard her correctly.
Dante bolted out of bed, instantly standing in front of me, trying to goad the phone out of my hand. I shook my head, biting my lower lip to stop it from trembling. I looked away. I didn’t want him to see the unshed tears forming in my eyes. I didn’t want him to witness how small this woman made me feel. I didn’t want him to look at me like I was weak. Like I was broken. Like I was being ripped apart at the seams, degraded, beaten, then tossed into the garbage. Like the way my mother always made me feel for failing to live up to her impossibly high standards.
“Exactly. We paved such a bright future for you. Got you into one of the best law schools. Got you a job at the top law firm in the state. Molded and groomed you so you’d be able to make a name for yourself here in California, then hopefully Washington to carry on the family legacy. But you decide to throw it away so you can be paraded around like some made-up whore in a designer gown?”
My hands shook, every muscle in my body tightening. My face heated, jaw clenching, hand balling into a fist. I tried to come back with an argument of my own, but words evaded me. I’d reverted to the same broken girl this woman always made me feel like.
