Shadow Warrior (The Shadow Series Book 4)

by Christine Feehan

  She did laugh then. “I can see no matter what I say, I’m going to be in trouble. I’m extremely thankful you aren’t really heavily into whips.”

  “My hand, however, is wondering how your very pretty ass will feel under it. And remember, gattina, I like it when you blush. Red looks good on you.”

  “It definitely doesn’t. I’m a natural redhead, and we don’t ever wear red. It would clash.”

  He spanned her waist with his hands and lifted her onto the bed. “Sit right there for a minute and tell me what was different about climbing into bed last night, from tonight.” He shrugged out of his shirt and very carefully laid it over the back of one of the two chairs in front of the long built-in fireplace.

  “I’m naked.”

  Deliberately, he ran his gaze over her body. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath. She looked vulnerable and excited, so perfect he could barely contain his desire, and he was an extremely disciplined and controlled man. “You are naked. I just noticed.”

  She laughed, and the sound of her laughter played over his body like the touch of fingers. His cock felt as if it might shatter into a million pieces. He didn’t care. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world when he had never felt quite like it with anyone else. She made everything new and different. She was well worth the long wait and the worry that he’d never have anyone right for him.

  “You’re not.”

  “I’m not, am I?” He touched the front of his pants, rubbed over the thick length of his burning cock. The heat was tremendous, his need of her growing every moment he was with her. Still, he took the time to be playful with her. He wanted her on edge, slick with hunger, but he didn’t want her afraid. Sometimes being a little fearful could heighten her pleasure, but not this time. Tonight, he was going to take his time and make love to her. He’d meant what he’d said when he’d told her he didn’t want to ever see her hurt or with tears in her eyes. He knew never was a long time, but he would still do his best to make that promise count.

  She laughed just as he knew she would. “You have a beautiful body, Vittorio. I noticed you at all the functions you attended. I couldn’t help watching you. You’ve probably had several stalkers and I’m fairly certain I could be counted among them.”

  He liked that. He liked that a hell of a lot. “You noticed me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Every woman notices you. I think the men do, too, even the straight ones. You’re that good-looking.”

  “But you took great care to stay out of my way.”

  “Spoiled useless rich boy, remember? I had fantasies. Hundreds of them. I couldn’t take the chance that you would ruin even one of my illusions.”

  He stepped close to the bed. “Widen your legs for me.” She did so, and he stepped between her thighs. “What else went on at these events that I didn’t know about in reference to me or my family?”

  “You want me to tell you event-planner secrets?” There was laughter in her voice, but he heard the underlying reluctance. She thought he wouldn’t like what she might say.

  He ran the pad of his finger from her collarbone to the top of her breast where he traced back and forth. “There aren’t any secrets between us.”

  “You have secrets.”

  It was a challenge. His Grace was more than intelligent. She was very quick. “Yes, but I intend to tell you every single one of mine. What’s the harm in telling me about anything to do with me?”

  He kept his eyes on her face. Willing her to take the next step. They were still dancing around each other in the guise of teasing, but he needed her to take the next step to trust him with things she wouldn’t normally tell him.

  “I don’t want you upset with Katie. I’m the one coming up with all the irreverent nicknames for certain clients.”

  He remained silent, disappointment slicing through him. They weren’t at that point yet, and he knew above all else, patience was key to getting her to trust him wholly. He shook his head, annoyed with himself for trying to push her beyond where she was ready to go.

  “Vittorio.” She whispered his name and there was an ache in her voice.

  She didn’t like disappointing him, and she knew she had. He leaned in and pressed a brief kiss to her mouth. That alone made him feel as if she’d given him a great gift. She might not trust him all the way yet, but she definitely cared enough that when he wasn’t pleased, or he was disappointed, she was upset.

  “It doesn’t matter, gattina, it will come with time. We’ll get there.” He was confident they would.

  “It does matter.” Grace surprised him with her fierce reaction. “I’m embarrassed that I can be childish at work. I want you to recognize that I’m a professional. I love what I do and I’m seriously good at it.”

  “I’ve listened to you and Katie every day for the last week. I’m very aware you’re professional.”

  She ducked her head again, and his heart sank. He didn’t like her disappointed in herself when she clearly was trying—really trying. He willed her to keep going. This was an important moment in their relationship even if she didn’t recognize it as such. He was patient, remaining silent. Waiting. He concentrated on the rise and fall of her breasts. Her skin was soft, very pale, almost glowing in the moonlight spilling over the lake and pouring in through the bay of windows.

  She touched her tongue to her lip and then looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “I should trust you enough to know you aren’t petty enough to retaliate against our business, or Katie, because I like to play silly games.”

  Vittorio was elated that she made her confession to him. She didn’t quite know that he wouldn’t hold whatever her game was concerning him against him, but she wanted to extend him that trust. Her work was very important to her. It was the one thing she’d had that Haydon Phillips hadn’t been able to take away from her, and she’d made it a success. She didn’t want him to belittle it, hurt it, or in any way think less of her regarding her business.

  “When clients are difficult, I make up names for them, and then use acronyms in order to make us both laugh.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. She made the confession as if she’d committed some terrible sin. “I see. I have one of these acronyms?”

  “SURB.”

  He caught on immediately. “Spoiled useless rich boy,” he translated. That wasn’t bad enough for her to have waited so long to tell him. He thought over what she’d revealed. When clients are difficult. He’d never been “difficult” at any of the charity events. She had invented a game to ease the sting when difficult clients were ugly to Katie or her. “What did you call my mother?”

  She sighed. Her fingers twisted in the sheets. He couldn’t help himself. He caught her hand and pressed her palm to his thigh to give her courage.

  “She was known as QBSITDROH.” She rattled off the letters fast as if she’d used them often.

  He raised an eyebrow. “That is quite a mouthful.”

  “Your mother is not an easy person to work with. She deserved a name befitting someone who could raise her level of contempt, sarcasm and venom. It was necessary to find a way to laugh.”

  He could hear the apology in her voice. That wasn’t what he wanted from her at all.

  “You’ll have to teach your special name to my sisters-in-law. They occasionally need a humorous way to cope. What does it stand for?”

  “Queen bitch spawned in the deepest recesses of hell.” She looked up at him quickly as if expecting him to be angry.

  Vittorio couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing. “I have a very healthy respect for my mother, but no one can quite reach the particular level of vitriol she can when dealing with anyone in any situation. Very imaginative and apt.”

  He framed her face and kissed her, taking his time, letting her fire consume him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Kissing Grace turned his world upside down. Once he started, Vittorio never wanted to stop. She tasted like wildfire, hot, spicy and yet sweet, a runawa
y sensation that took him down the dark path he desired. No one had ever come close to taking away the harsh reality of his life—not until he’d found Grace.

  She occupied his thoughts day and night. He studied her with the same complete focus with which he’d trained. He knew everything about her that he could possibly learn in the weeks he’d been with her. Every expression. The way she moved when she was tired. The habits that gave away her moods. He knew how she liked her coffee or tea. She had a certain expression that crept over her face when she didn’t like something but was determined to go through with it.

  He kissed her gently, with no demand, determined to go slowly, but in spite of his determination and all of his discipline, there was no way to keep from deepening the kiss. She set up an addiction, a craving he was never going to get over. The way she surrendered to him was the most amazing feeling in the world. She gave herself completely to him. Pleasure washed through him until his pulse thundered in his ears and beat through his cock. He’d never felt more alive, or more in need of his woman, not even after coming out of the shadows after a mission when the adrenaline poured through his body.

  Vittorio had known, almost from the first glimpse of her as she leapt out of the trunk, all fury and fire, furious with her foster brother, that the passion in her would be wild and explosive.

  He guided her down to the mattress, so she was lying on her back, legs over the edge, all the while his mouth refusing to leave hers. He kissed her repeatedly, long drugging kisses, wanting to consume her, devour her, seeking more of her surrender. Demanding more. All the while his hands began a slow exploration of her body.

  She was exquisite. The feel of her skin, soft beneath the pads of his fingers. He splayed them wide to take in as much of her as possible. He went slow, refusing to hurry, no matter the demands of his body. He savored her, letting himself absorb the feel of her surrender to him, everything about the experience with her. The rise and fall of her breasts. How they looked, twin alluring mounds, the curves drawing his eye as he lifted his head to take in her body.

  He liked having her under him, at his mercy, her body open to him, his hands moving over her possessively, letting her know who she belonged to. Grace was elegance, her body fine-boned, her rib cage delicate and small. Her hips flared, matching the sweet line of her breasts. He traced every line of her body, every curve, memorizing her, etching her into his brain, taking his time, appreciating every inch of her.

  Grace was very responsive to him. Shivering. Moaning. Every sound served to heighten his pleasure. Her nipples peaked so that he couldn’t resist the temptation and he flicked his tongue over them and tugged and rolled just to hear her soft cries. He spent time on her breasts, filing away every shudder of her body, every buck of her hips. He wanted to know what she liked and what she didn’t. Every trigger point that brought her pleasure. There was no reason to hurry and every reason not to. He wanted this first time to be perfect for her. This was about loving Grace and showing her how he felt about her.

  Grace stared at Vittorio’s brutally handsome face. There was nothing soft or feminine about it, not even the long sweep of lashes that framed his strange, blue eyes. He was utterly masculine yet managed not to be brutishly so. She knew surrendering to him meant giving him everything. He’d laid out very carefully what he wanted in a relationship and expected her to live with his rules.

  A million butterflies took flight when he spoke to her in that velvet tone. She craved the life he offered to her. She loved her work and her mind grasped details. Planning dream weddings and fairy-tale parties to fulfill people’s fantasies was the perfect job for her. She needed to make others happy and she was meticulous about getting every detail perfect and right for them. They told her what they wanted, and she found the best way to provide that dream event for them.

  It was always at home, when she was alone with herself, the way she’d been her entire life, that she was lost. She had no purpose. No focus. No center to balance her. Now, this man, Vittorio Ferraro, an amazing, sensual, intelligent man, offered those things to her. He was exactly what she needed—and wanted.

  Grace sank her fingers into the thick mass of hair spilling onto his forehead. She loved that she could touch his hair. She’d fantasized over doing just that. When she inhaled, there was that elusive, masculine scent that appealed to her. It was faint, but there, all spice and woods, something she found hard to describe, but she knew she’d be able to find him blindfolded, with a hundred other men in the same room.

  His hand was on her bare belly, fingers splayed wide, the tips touching the underside of both breasts, causing her breath to come in ragged pants. There was no hiding from him. He knew what he did to her. He’d kissed her and that was all it took for her body to go soft and pliant, melting into his, desperate to have him inside her.

  His fingers moved back and forth over her stomach, stroking mesmerizing caresses there that soothed the fear in her yet fed her fierce arousal at the same time. Her fingers curled into his hair as he pressed a kiss to her belly button and then swirled his tongue there. She gasped, and her hips bucked involuntarily when his teeth scraped her skin and then nipped, causing a little sting.

  “Are you paying attention, gattina?”

  “Yes.” She was, but she could barely get the affirmative past her throat. Flames licked at her skin along the path his mouth took. She was acutely aware of him kissing, licking and biting his way down her body to the tangle of fiery curls covering her mound.

  “Vittorio.” His name came out a moan.

  “Lay still for me, bella. We have to be careful of your shoulder. If you keep squirming around like that, I might have to punish you.”

  Grace couldn’t stop squirming, not when his breath felt hot between her legs. He caught each leg behind the knee and pulled it back, holding each with his arms but leaving his hands free. He slipped off the bed so that his head was between her legs. He turned and licked up her thigh, making her gasp at the sensation. Fingers of desire danced up and down her thighs. Her hips bucked again when his hot breath bathed her sex.

  It was too much, and he hadn’t even gotten started. “You said no punishments,” she managed to gasp, her entire body shuddering with need.

  “I might have misspoken.” His tongue swiped across her entrance, collecting liquid heat and driving her up the wall.

  She cried out and curled her fingers tighter in his hair. Nothing, nothing had ever felt that good. “So, handcuffs are in . . .” She could barely get the words out, air refusing to move through her lungs.

  “And ropes. I’ve been studying for several years now, and lately have really picked up the art of shibari from my brother. He uses his skills mainly for art while I . . .” Implying he didn’t. Teasing her.

  She laughed because he made her feel as if she was his everything. His mouth. His hands. Those eyes of his moving over her body and then settling on her face when he delivered his playful, but truthful statement. Her laugh turned to a gasp as he kissed his way up her other thigh, using lips, teeth and tongue. Every single nip sent lightning flicks through her bloodstream.

  She couldn’t think. At. All. It was impossible. Her world had suddenly narrowed to Vittorio. His hands kept her thighs apart easily, giving him full access to her, and his mouth felt suddenly ravenous. He was doing what he said—having her for dessert. Her body responded in a way she’d never experienced, coiling tighter and tighter, the pressure tremendous.

  “Vittorio.” She breathed his name, unsure if she wanted him to stop or to continue, but there was no laughter in her anymore. A dark shiver crept down her spine. He’d said he’d have her for dessert and he’d meant it. She knew he’d meant it when he’d talked about ropes and handcuffs.

  Grace’s body shuddered, somewhere between excitement and fear of the unknown. Little flames licked at her thighs, everywhere his skin touched hers, as if he’d set off an inferno and she was catching fire right along with him. Deep inside, she felt her heartbeat. Pulsing. Aching. H
eat spread through her from the inside out. All the while the pressure kept building. The coiling inside tightened. Swelled.

  Everywhere Vittorio touched her on her skin, he left pulses of heat, tiny flickers of electricity that crackled and zapped. She’d never felt so sensitive. He wasn’t touching her breasts, but she felt that buildup moving through her entire body, so that her nipples were stiff and aching. Her breasts throbbed to that heartbeat deep inside. The sensations were becoming overwhelming. She sobbed his name. It broke from her like an amulet that would keep her safe.

  “Let go, bella. Just relax and let go.”

  His voice was velvet soft. Low. Compelling. Impossible not to obey. Heat exploded through her. She felt the gathering wave begin somewhere deep and spread through her like a wildfire, swamping her, encompassing her entire body. The sensation took her over, rushing like a freight train. Her back arched. Her toes curled. A cry escaped her throat and there was no repressing the sound. Her body pulsed, alive, shocked, the sensation beyond her wildest imagination.

  Vittorio kissed her inner thighs and rubbed his face down each one, leaving behind the burn from the shadow on his jaw. He stood slowly, his gaze fixed on her face as he loosened the drawstring of his lounge pants and let them drop. One hand circled the girth of his cock, just as her lashes lifted. Her eyes widened, and she let out her breath in a little rush.

  “Are you on birth control, Grace?” He hated even asking her. He didn’t give a damn if she got pregnant, but they hadn’t discussed it yet. He hadn’t told her he would want a child sooner rather than later. He didn’t want her to feel as if he was marrying her just because she could give him the rider the rest of his world demanded.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t want to use a condom. I’ve never had unprotected sex with anyone. I go in regularly anyway, just to make certain I’m clean. I got a clean bill of health right after I met you.” It sucked having to bring up the fact that he’d been with other women. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable with me going without a glove.”