by Dani René
Between the wall and his hard body, I feel dizzy with need.
“I want to kiss you,” Luca murmurs against my lips.
“God, yes. Please, yes,” I breathe out before I can stop myself, but I can’t feel embarrassed for my wanton pleas.
He smirks, before crushing his lips against mine.
I’ve watched hundreds of romantic movies, I’ve read thousands of romance novels, I’ve dreamed too many times to count about being kissed. Yet, nothing has prepared me for this. I knew it would feel good, but not even in my mind could I imagine it being this amazing.
Every nerve in my body focuses on that small place we’re connected. His lips against mine. Soft, strong, and needy. I wonder how people give kisses to strangers so easily. How people can kiss anyone on the lips. This feeling should be cherished, earned. The kiss is much better than just a touch of lips. As he kisses me with confident and persistent strokes, I feel like he’s branding his name onto my soul. His taste consumes my senses, placing me in a cocoon of mint, cigar, and whiskey. I’ve never pegged myself for an addict, but I could become addicted to this taste. His taste.
When his tongue darts out to lick my bottom lip, I sigh with pleasure. He softly pushes his tongue into my mouth, caressing mine with seductive strokes. I grip his shoulders tighter, pulling him harder to me. I moan into his mouth when he bites my lip, pulling it into his mouth with his teeth. I shudder when he soothes the pain with a lick.
He grinds his hips into me, making me delirious with want. Want for things I don’t exactly know.
When our lips finally separate, I search for his mouth once more. That makes him chuckle, and I lean back to look at him, balancing my weight against the wall at my back.
He lifts his hand, caressing me from my temple to my chin once more. Only this time, his knuckles move down. My heartbeat ricochets as his knuckles graze the swell of my breasts and catch my nipple through the material. My breath hitches as he moves his hand down to my belly, all the while holding my eyes hostage with his own. When he finally reaches the hem of my dress, his fingertips swipe over my naked thigh.
I moan with the contact. Shivering under his intense gaze.
“Have you ever had a boyfriend, Ramona?” His voice is much huskier than before. There is a roughness beneath his tone that makes me press my thighs together.
I shake my head. Hating how inexperienced I am. I want to feel everything he has to give me, but he may not want me if he knows I’m clueless.
I hold my breath when, instead of pulling away, he gets closer. His fingers move under my dress, sliding over the skin of my inner thigh. Softly, so softly it feels like feathers. I spread my legs just a little, giving him the space and permission he wants. He doesn't seem like he’s asking though. He takes and takes while giving me all the feelings I've only dreamed of. The sensations I always wanted to feel.
"Has anyone ever touched you like this?" he asks.
I shake my head.
"Good," he says sharply. The rough edge of his voice excites me.
And he chooses that moment to skim his knuckles over my panties. I suck in a breath, closing my thighs reflexively. He chuckles and places a soft kiss on my lips. "If you want me to continue, you better spread those gorgeous legs a little, my diamond."
Closing my eyes, I rest my forehead against his shoulder and spread my legs just enough.
"Good girl. My beautiful, bright diamond."
His approving voice makes me rock my hips over his fingers. He applies pressure, sending pleasure through my body. When he circles his fingers over my panties, an exquisite feeling burns my nerves.
I surrender to his touch as he expertly probes and circles me, bringing me closer and closer to the edge of something so amazingly beautiful.
I whimper when his fingers move beneath the material of my panties. His touch over my naked skin is enough to push me over the edge. And I shake in his arms, bucking my hips violently to prolong this intense feeling that only he has ever given me.
When I come back to my senses, I see him licking his fingers. His eyes are molten with hunger and I want him to take me somewhere else to own me completely.
"You come so beautifully," he whispers. And I lean in for another kiss. I kiss him with every bit of need and hunger I feel for this man.
I want to beg him to take me away from this boring castle I live in. To show me a different life filled with pleasure and desire.
Earlier he said he’s the villain of the fairy tale.
What if I don't want a prince charming?
What if the villain calls to me more?
Chapter Eight
Luca
Her taste explodes in my mouth. The way she shook with her orgasm makes me want to take her right here and now, but I hear Edward’s voice call for her.
I pull us away from the wall and start swaying like we’ve been dancing all this time. No sane man would believe it if they look at Ramona’s flushed face, messed-up hair, and swollen lips, but I don’t really care what people think. I just enjoy humoring poor Edward.
“Ramona! Where were you?” Edward finally comes closer to us, his body tense like a livewire.
Ramona also tenses in my arms. Her eyes widen as she looks at my face with panic. With my eyes on Edward, I lean closer to Ramona to whisper in her ear. “Why don’t you go to the powder room, Diamond?”
Relief causes her shoulders to sag, and she quickly mumbles an excuse, even though her dad can’t hear her muffled voice.
“Edward, such a good party,” I say, with my usual aloofness. I don’t think my amusement is hidden, though.
“Mr. Caruso…” he starts but then trails off. A muscle ticks in his jaw, his hands are turned to fists. I chuckle softly. His eyes narrow at my joy.
“You have something to say, Edward?”
“I… Ramona…” he trails off once again. I wait. Enjoying his discomfort more than I probably should. Finally, he squares his shoulders, and his eyes grow hard. “Ramona is so young, Mr. Caruso. I don’t appreciate her being near someone more than twice her age.”
I chuckle. How stupid he chooses that excuse over any other.
“She should be with someone her own age. She shouldn’t be used for someone’s perverse,” he spits out.
My amusement evaporates at the mention of her being with someone else. “What if your daughter wants a man who knows what he’s doing?” I quirk an eyebrow at him, smirking with satisfaction at the anger on his face, and I press once more, “Didn’t you see the way she looks at me? She doesn’t want a boy.”
I take a slow step toward him. I see how he wants to move back, but he holds his ground regardless of his fear.
“And I don’t appreciate people stealing from me, Edward,” I snap at him. My voice leaves no doubt how furious I am. It’s just not for theft. It is for the image of her with some pool boy who fumbles around, not knowing how to please her body.
He swallows. His eyes widen slightly. He doesn’t try to deny it, though. All I see is anger and shame in his eyes. So he regrets it. Good. He’ll regret more when he hears what I’m about to say.
“You know what happens to those who steal from my family, right?”
He swallows once more, before giving a short nod. “Death,” he lets out.
I smile at him. “Right. So should I kill you and every member of your family, Edward? Would that be what you want?”
“Fuck,” he breathes out. Panic and fear play in his gaze, and I wonder how long it will take him to start apologizing or begging. But he surprises me, when after a short silence, he says, “But you won’t kill us.”
“Not if you give me what I want.”
“And that is?”
“Ramona.”
He starts shaking his head vehemently. “No. No way.”
I chuckle at his pathetic ignorance. He keeps chanting no as I wait for him to come to realize he has no choice. I cross my arms across my chest, and he takes a deep breath. Realization is heavy on his shoulder
s.
“What do you really want, Luca?” His voice is defeated.
“I want your daughter. Give me your daughter and you and your wife can keep living your lives safely. I will also erase your debt to me. You can work for someone else. You’ll be free.”
He snorts. “You sound like the devil himself.”
I shrug with a smirk. I realize the calculative look in his eyes. I can almost see how hard he is thinking to find a way out of this.
His shoulders fall in an overly pathetic way. I stare at his act. Is he really that stupid? Does he really think I buy his defeat while his eyes are so full of hatred?
“Will you treat my girl good?”
I slowly lick my lips, reminiscing the taste of her on my mouth. His body tenses when he sees the movement. He knows what I’m thinking. “I’ll treat her how she should be treated.”
His hands turn to fists, unable to control his anger. “If you do anything to her… if you hurt her in any way…” he trails off.
“Go on.” I chuckle at him. He can’t do shit, and he knows it. He can’t report me to anyone; I have clients in every damn position of power in this country.
“Please, don’t hurt her,” he finally begs in defeat. His shoulders sag, his eyes lose the hardness they had just a few minutes ago. He looks at least ten years older at this moment. And I almost pity him. Almost.
So for his benefit, I give him a curt nod. A silent promise I don’t intend to keep.
“Give us at least until the morning. Let me make up a story for her. For why she has to stay with you.”
I study his face, and again, I give him another nod.
“Tomorrow, noon, she’ll be in the club. Or…”
He nods quickly. “I know. She’ll be there.”
“Okay, then. Tell her I had to leave early, and I’ll see her tomorrow.”
Relief gives hope to his eyes as he nods.
And I shake my head at how stupid he is for thinking I actually bought his lie.
Chapter Nine
Ramona
When I go back outside, I realize everyone is leaving. Thank God, but I’m not happy Luca is gone too. Without saying goodbye to me. I remember the way he kissed me earlier and I smile. Maybe he said his goodbye after all.
After the last person leaves the party area, Daddy notices me, and with Mom behind him, they both power walk toward me.
I’ve never seen Daddy so scared.
“Stay the fuck away from that man!” Daddy booms.
Luca? Why?
I shake my head at myself, and Daddy takes it as an answer to his command. With anger painted on his face, he pulls me inside the house. His hold on me makes me wince in pain.
I hate when he acts like that. I mean, yes, Luca looks dangerous with the power and confidence he oozes, but it’s not like he really is. I mean, how can he be?
I remember the way he held me, the way he touched me, and the way he kissed me. There isn’t evil in his eyes when he looks at me. There is only fire and passion. A man like him can only be dangerous to a girl’s heart. Nothing else.
I mean, what can he do to make Dad this scared?
But again, Dad is afraid of everything since Jack, his partner, was shot. I think it made him paranoid. When he sees a powerful, rich man, like Luca, he thinks that man is into bad things. I can’t blame him, but sometimes, it's too much to bear. I just want to live my life, away from all this worry and fear. I want to experience things and be adventurous just like other girls my age, but with my parents' constant need to control and protect me, that never happens.
I hardly listen as my parents make decisions about leaving. I look at them confused, but no one offers me an explanation. They keep trying to decide whether sending me now or in the morning is better.
“The night would be more dangerous,” Dad says.
“If she goes out in the morning, he may think we are sending her to him. It would give us time, then,” Mom agrees with him.
Sending me to who? What are they talking about? What happened when I was inside the house?
I try to make sense of their words, but I can’t think straight. My mind is still full of thoughts of Luca. My body burns for him. Fire rushes through my veins with the memory of his touch, his kiss. The orgasm he gave me shakes me from head to toe each time I think about it.
God. I want that feeling. Again and again. I want him too much, too fast, and that scares me, but mostly excites me.
I don’t think this is love. I don’t really know him enough to love him, right? But he makes me feel so many things. I think about him every second of every day, needing him, missing him, wanting him…whatever this is, I’m addicted to it.
I’m already looking for my next fix. Already dreaming of him touching me with more than his fingers.
As I head for the stairs, my dad calls out to me. I turn to look at him, fighting with the urge to roll my eyes.
“You’re leaving tomorrow morning. At first light.”
His voice is free of affection. Something burns inside me at his words. I don’t know why. I wonder if it’s the aloof way he said it or if it’s the sense of being walked over. Like my thoughts or my wants are never important to him. He doesn’t even ask me if I want to be sent away.
“Did you ever think of asking me what I want to do? Do you even care?” I yell.
“I’m doing this to protect you!” he snaps back at me. His voice drips with annoyance, like I’m nothing but a damn child. Like my thoughts don’t matter.
“Protect me from what? Your paranoia?”
“Ramona?!” Mom exclaims with both shock and anger. I don’t even look at her. I don’t expect her to be on my side about this, simply because she never has been.
“If you really cared about me, you wouldn’t send me away. You would keep me close to protect me. But it’s easier for you to take me from one prison to another, just because you’re afraid of everything!”
“I know what is best for you.”
“You just want to get rid of me!” I scream.
“I’m not going to argue with you over this,” Dad says in a dismissive way. He doesn’t even deny my accusation.
I grit my teeth with the sudden urge for violence. I want to hit, scream, and break things, but, most importantly, I want all my frustration to channel into something I can control. Something I can understand. Year after year of being invisible to my own family, being protected from something I don’t even know or understand, being a prisoner in this picture-perfect life that has only ever felt like a burden too overwhelming to carry, I feel like I’m suffocating. I want all these feelings to turn into pain, physical pain, so I can focus on it and cry. I want to cry to let it all go. To release my frustration, my hatred, my hurt...
As I storm up the stairs to my room, I keep pulling my hair. The slight burn on my scalp gives me the release I need to calm down.
But when I enter my room, my breath hitches in my throat.
Chapter Ten
Luca
“Luca,” Ramona breathes out when she sees me sitting in her armchair. The reading light next to the chair gives a soft glow to the room, illuminating her slender frame like warm sunlight.
She slowly walks toward me, almost tentatively, shaking like a doe. When she stands right in front of me, waiting, I uncross my legs and place my feet on either side of hers.
She doesn’t ask why I’m here. She just stands there, watching me watch her.
“Can I do what I want? For once?” Her voice is so vulnerable. The desperation in it speaks to my soul, to a deeper part of me I’ve never felt before. And before I can make a scheme to coax her into what I want from her, I find myself nodding, giving her permission.
I don’t know what I expected when she asked me that question. I don’t know what I thought she would do or what I thought she would want, but I didn’t think she could do anything to surprise me.
I was wrong.
I sit straighter when she peels her dress from her body.
<
br /> I feel the twitch in my cock when the tits, I’ve only fantasized about, are exposed to my eyes.
I lick my lips when she moves the flimsy fabric of her panties down her legs.
When she leans down to take them off, her face comes dangerously close to my already hard cock. When she doesn’t lift herself up fast enough, I have to use all my willpower not to hold her where she is and free my cock to push through those plump lips of hers.
When she finally stands again, gloriously naked with the light dancing over her skin with every breath she takes, I drink her in. Her beauty is something to either be damned or cherished.
And then when she balances herself on my thighs to kneel between my legs and reaches for the belt on my slacks, I decide I’ll do both.
I’ll cherish and abuse her body until we’re both damned.
Chapter Eleven
Ramona
I feel his eyes on me as I unbuckle his belt. My hands shake, but I don’t know if it’s from nerves or excitement. Probably both.
He’s completely silent when I push down his zipper. When my fingers touch the hardness over the fabric of his underwear, I hear the hitch in his breath.
Licking my lips, I close my eyes for a second. I want to do this. I want to follow through with what I started. With the sound of his shallow breathing, I reach inside his boxer briefs, as he lifts himself to give me access to him.
When I reveal his length to my eyes, realization finally hits me.
I’m naked, and for the first time in my life, I’m face-to-face with a man’s cock.
I have no clue what came over me.
I remember the anger, the frustration and the helplessness I felt when my dad talked to me like I had no right over my own life. Like I’m just an accessory they place wherever suits them. And I just wanted to feel a sense of control. To do something I didn’t have to ask for permission. To do something just because I felt like it.
