by Deana Birch
That word. That stupid, stupid word nearly didn’t make it past her throat. And seeing Luca last week… The memory was a vise around her neck, choking her. His entire countenance had transformed at the sight of the wee one sobbing on his phone’s screen. Unabashed love had coated every word he’d spoken—and had sung, for fuck’s sake—as he’d soothed the child from some undetermined distance.
She tried to focus on the sputtering imbecile on the opposite side of her desk, but lingering questions that had kept her up far into the night about who the stunning woman and undeniably adorable toddler were to Luca tugged at her brain. Family. These were obviously family members, because there couldn’t possibly be friends close enough to seek help with wailing children late in the evening. Sister? Cousin? She swallowed. Ex-wife?
‘Ti amo, Cuca.’
No, if it were his child, they would surely not use his first name. But the mispronunciation tugged at her heart almost as much as the radiant smile that had damn near split his face in half.
With a brief shake of her head, she packaged every thought of the mystery child into a small box and shoved it into the corner of her mind. Excising the rambling Mr. Hauser from her office was more important, for the moment. Claire rose to her feet, pressing her shoulder blades together as she’d learned in the various poses Luca had taught her, adding to her height, her strength and her confidence. “I appreciate your time and patience.” She barely spoke the words without laughing. “Either Mr. Steinmetz or I will get back to you as soon as we are satisfied with what our researchers find.”
Arik Hauser flexed his jaw and Claire merely blinked in response. The man really should spend time with Luca if he was looking to affect an air of dominance.
“I suggest you have your researchers work quickly, Ms. Favre. There are plenty of banks in Zurich that would love to have my business.”
‘You are a representative of me.’ Luca’s voice echoed in her mind and stopped the disrespectful, albeit warranted, snort from escaping her mouth. ‘You will show the world a version of Claire Favre that you never knew existed, and you will take their breath away.’
His words lent authenticity to the serene smile she offered Mr. Hauser. “That would be a decision well within your right to make and I would be sorry to see our business interactions end before they began.” She called herself every kind of liar because never seeing this man’s face again would simply be too soon. “However, I will not cave to threats, veiled or otherwise. If all checks out and you are still interested in us, I look forward to working with you. If not, I wish you the very best on your future endeavors, Mr. Hauser.”
A chagrined David Steinmetz stood and held an arm out, indicating the other man should exit ahead of him, an offer he took with a huff as he stormed out. David spun around, walking backward as he left and mouthing an apology. Claire nodded before resuming her seat, pulling open the drawer to her left and letting her fingers walk across the manila folders, seeking the one she would need for her next appointment.
She opened it, scanning the documents inside for the third time today, just as she had on Monday and again on Tuesday. She knew every line was perfect and every detail was in order, but she needed to be sure. It was why she had prepared the file herself. Normally, she would pawn off something like this to Julien. He would roll his eyes and bitch about breaking a nail with all the typing she expected of him then have all the documents on her desk within half an hour.
Not this time. Not this account.
The numbers made her smile. It wasn’t her largest return, but the investments were sound and turning a steady profit. The money was safe. Secure. Stable. It would continue to produce a tidy sum on a regular basis and—
Three taps on her open door snapped her attention to where the holder of said account stood, looking effortlessly sexy in another dark suit, offset by a crisp white shirt. She jumped to her feet and involuntarily licked her lips. “Luca, you’re early.”
He waved a hand for her to retake her seat as he strolled into her office. “I wanted to have lunch with you and was assured you would have no additional appointments, although it appears your last one ran a bit late, cara.”
Julien shrugged from the open doorway, mouthing an apology while shooting an unrepentant smile before closing the door. Rat. He was a dirty, sneaky rat who gave Luca every drop of information he wanted—and she adored him for it. She turned her attention to the plates Luca was setting before them on her desk. If he’d brought food, did that mean…? The thought of disappointing him bothered her far more than she cared to admit. “I packed lunch. I was getting ready to eat.”
He looked up from the antipasto salad he was dividing between their dishes and smiled. “Si. Yes, I know. My sotto has been incredibly obedient and follows all her rules. This is why I had to be early. I did not want to risk losing my opportunity to dine with you.”
She released her breath on a slow exhale. “I don’t like disappointing you.” She covered her mouth with her fingers as soon as the soft confession escaped her lips. What is wrong with me?
He added a sandwich to each plate and pushed one of the dishes closer to her. “You have no concerns there, cara. You have exceeded my every expectation.” He threw her that stupid fucking wink that made her knees wobbly. “And they were rather high.”
Luca unbuttoned his jacket, smoothing a hand down his tie as he took the seat across from her. He speared an olive and lifted it to his mouth. Claire couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his every move. And she really couldn’t help the avalanche of thoughts caused by looking at his lips, his hands, his fingers…remembering their talent.
“Eat, cara.” A knowing grin spread across his face. “Later tonight we will explore all the other thoughts causing that attractive pink to creep up your neck.”
Claire cleared her throat and lifted the sandwich to her lips, nibbling a small corner. Damn him. He noticed everything. As much as she wanted to be annoyed or irritated, the only response she could find within herself was the blossoming warmth in her chest and the aching need between her legs that happened within moments of being in Luca’s presence. “Do you want to start looking through the file I prepared while you eat?”
He shook his head, regarding her thoughtfully as he chewed. “No. Tell me. How was your day so far, cara?”
She methodically ate her meal. Despite the rich and delicious blending of flavors and spices, she barely tasted the food. Her mind was completely fixated on what his reaction would be to the work she’d done on his account. She battled between wanting to show him all the documents now and hoping he would be called away before they could review anything. And the prospect of talking—just talking as Luca and Claire—once again should not feel this good.
“Stressful. Irritating.” She popped the last bite of feta cheese into her mouth and leaned back in her chair, folding her hands across her pleasantly full abdomen. Words began to spill out of her mouth unhindered, words she hadn’t planned on allowing to escape her brain. Words she’d never spoken to anyone, not even Julien. But with Luca…they begged to be spoken. “I built this with David from nothing. I put my heart, my soul, my everything into this company. I dedicated myself to it while the love of my life lay dying in a bed at home. And it’s paid off.” She drew her eyebrows together, frowned and the anger she’d managed to bank when in the presence of her partner and his new prospective client rose in her chest again. “But then these fucking snakes slither in here thinking they can… I don’t even know. Charm me? Con me? Because I’m a woman, there is no possible way I can be as clever or intelligent as them and—”
She covered her lips with her hands then slid them to cover her eyes before dropping her head. She understood the honesty attached to their…other relationship, but why did she insist on revealing her every thought and problem to Luca?
The chair across from her scraped against the floor and rhythmic footsteps rounded her desk, ending beside her. “Eyes.”
Claire faced him, peeking out f
rom between her fingers. He peeled her hands away and held them in his as he rested his backside against the wooden slab.
“Stand.”
She rose to her feet, her body under his command, as always, whether he was Luca or Master. He simply was, and she simply was his. Temporarily.
“I heard you.” Three words. They meant nothing and everything. The corner of his mouth kicked up. The deep pools that enchanted her seemed to darken. He dropped her hands and cupped either side of her face. “I heard you conduct yourself with integrity and confidence. I heard you handle a less-than-ideal situation knowing your worth. And you were even more breathtaking than I predicted. I am incredibly proud of you, Claire.”
Her traitorous heart responded to his praise with far more enthusiasm than Claire liked. She chose to satisfy the plaintive cries of her needy body instead, a much easier voice to obey. “Since we are just Luca and Claire, does that mean I can touch you?”
Luca’s eyes widened infinitesimally. He lowered his hands to her hips, pulling her between his slightly open thighs. “You wish to touch me, cara?”
She nodded slowly and let the fingers that had itched to make contact from the second his presence had engulfed her office creep around his waist. “Yes, Sir.” She smirked at him. Teasing Luca Bernardi was quickly becoming her favorite hobby.
Her smile disappeared the second his lips crashed against hers. He grabbed her ass and pulled her tightly against him. The breath escaped her lungs on a gasp as she came in contact with proof that Luca was equally needy. She fisted the soft cotton of his shirt, desperate to anchor herself.
But they were in her office.
He is my client.
She couldn’t strip her clothes and kneel before her Master the way she wanted. She slid her hand up the front of his shirt, stroking his beard lightly before she finally found the strength to pull away. She gave him a small smile, reveling in the feel of his embrace for a few lingering moments. “Do you want to see your first official report, Mr. Bernardi?”
Instead of retaking her seat, she grabbed the file from her desk and lowered herself into the chair beside his, crossing her legs at the ankle. Once he was seated, she slid the thin folder over to him, clasping her hands together in her lap. She refused to bite her lip, fidget with her fingers or show any other outward sign of the nerves raging through her. Luca had said he was proud of her.
He flipped through the papers once. Twice. By the third time, she wanted to crawl out of her skin. What was wrong? She was certain every digit, comma and decimal point lined up.
“Claire…are you certain these numbers are correct?”
Ice trickled down her spine. “Yes, I am. I prepared these reports myself and checked them multiple times to verify.”
His gaze lifted to hold hers for a beat before returning to the papers in his hand. “Madre mia.” His voice dropped to a whisper and Claire strained to hear the words, slightly irritated when she realized he’d lapsed into Italian again and she could do little more than order food in his native tongue. “Mia cara, il mio sotto è più brillante di quanto mi aspettassi. Come potrei essere così cieco?”
She wanted to jump in and argue that while it wasn’t her best return, it was a strong start and would be a reliable and continued profit. She wanted to offer to run the numbers again and pray for a better outcome. She wanted—
Claire shook her head slightly. No. She would stay still. She would draw on the patience Luca had shown her the beauty of.
“Cara… Claire…this is astounding.” His gaze stayed focused on the documents in his hands as he spoke. “Any return on investments this early would have been impressive, and I prepared myself for impressive.” He held the paper up between them, capturing her eyes and stealing her ability to breathe. “This is spectacular.”
Joy bloomed in her chest and heat began to creep up her neck again. She dropped her eyelids, searching her brain for words. Clients had praised her before, and often, but coming from Luca, it meant so much more.
He hooked his finger under her chin. “Eyes.” She obediently met his, humbled at the pride radiating from them. “My sotto… She just cannot help but outshine every other star.”
Luca had a way of telling her everything she never knew she needed to hear, but she needed to address her other reason for making the appointment before she lost her nerve. “I’m so glad that you’re pleased, but I… I also wanted to tell you—”
“Confidence, Claire. You’ve displayed incredible capability and immense strength of character today. Own your confidence, cara.”
She squared her shoulders and smiled, now more certain of the decision she’d wrestled with for the past five days. “I’d love to go to your charity event with you, Luca.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Luca
Luca placed the phone face down on his empty countertop. Bruno’s sudden turn in health, while not shocking, was still unwelcome. Losing the only close friend who truly understood all aspects of Luca’s very private life reminded him of the solitude he’d imposed on himself.
Yes, he was a family man and present at all important functions. That was innately Italian. But even his cousin Gianna, who for all intents and purposes was more of a sister than anything else, did not know the extent of Luca’s relationship preferences. It was one thing to think a relative was an eternal bachelor, picky about his women. It was quite another to accept the D/s lifestyle in the world of vanilla.
Ten years prior, when he’d met Bruno, a light had flipped on inside Luca—control and service, striving to be his best and bring out the best in every sub who’d crossed his path. It had filled a deep well inside him. And now, with time, each transient sub who had passed through his suite on her knees seemed to replenish his soul less and less.
Because it had been no mistake that Luca had fallen into training subs. Master of all, keeper of none. But none of that mattered. He shook away the murky thoughts and ran his fingers through his hair. Claire waited for him downstairs and he had a commitment to her to honor.
And yet, all of it mattered.
As he rode the elevator, he couldn’t think of one single reason to punish the beauty. His sotto had indeed blossomed. The fidgeting had ceased. She beamed confidence. She understood the expectations and technicalities of being a submissive. He hadn’t caught her late for anything and, thank the heavens, the woman had started to properly nourish her lovely little body. Their time was drawing to an end.
Sure, he could invent bogus reasons to drag out their sessions, but he was starting to realize they were all selfish. He wanted Claire, cara, sotto—all of them equally. He knew it. And he’d known it from the start.
When the door clicked its release and he pushed it open, the sentiment was confirmed.
There she was, her presentation flawless. The display stopped his heart, aroused him, pleased him. Then it nipped at something else, the internal clock, ticking away.
“Good evening, sotto. You are lovely as always. Such a welcome sight.”
With her eyes down and a timid grin, she said, “Thank you, Sir.”
Luca crossed to her and trailed a finger along her defined cheekbone. The connection of skin to skin, even though soft and seemingly meaningless, was anything but.
“You have been superb, sotto. Exemplary.” Touching more of her was necessary. Imperative. For whom, he couldn’t tell anymore. “Stand.”
With her breasts at a much more acceptable level and the light rose nipples already pebbled, Luca cupped them before twisting their centers.
“You have your Master at a bit of a loss, sotto. Was that your intention?”
Her eyes flickered but her voice remained steady. “No, Sir.”
Luca pulled her back into his stomach with his forearm while he held one nipple tight. He palmed down her flat stomach and reached into the flimsy white lace. The erection in his pants screamed for her ass and he allowed himself a full rub as he dipped a finger inside her warm folds. She let out a muted whimper.
“Always ready. Too pleasing,” he whispered through a clenched jaw. “You give me no choice but to worship you as the goddess that you are, sotto.”
He spun her around. “Eyes.”
Her blue-gray pools met his regard without hesitation. The finger that had been between her legs met her soft lips.
“Suck.”
She twirled the digit once with her tongue while keeping her gaze locked on him. She pulled it into her mouth and the glorious suction began.
“See how lovely you taste, my sweet sotto?”
She intensified her work.
“How can your Master resist you?”
Luca removed his finger and instinct commanded over duty. He closed his eyes, as if not wanting to witness the momentary loss of control, and his mouth met Claire’s. She accepted him freely and kissed back just as hard.
Madonna mia.
What was happening to him? Never, ever in his life could he remember wanting to kiss a woman, even a sub, this much. And indeed, the residual taste of her own arousal made him starved for more.
Her. I need to be there for her.
Luca tugged his head back and broke off the embrace. “Undress me.”
The command was met with a sexy smirk and she said, “With pleasure, Sir.”
Claire circled around him and slid her hands into his suit jacket. He shrugged it off and watched her hips sway as she walked to the closet to hang it up.
The small grin stayed on her face as she unbuttoned his shirt and repeated her journey. He sat on the bed, and she knelt before him to remove his shoes and socks. Again, she aligned it all in the closet exactly the way he liked—needed—and came back.
He half expected her to be cheeky with his belt, because she was a mischievous little sotto from time to time, but once again, she handled herself with nothing but perfection.
