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I picture us sweating and rutting like animals all night long, my hands in her hair, her nails raking over my skin. I would taste every inch of her. I feel myself getting hard as I think about running my hands over her ass, sitting her down on my lap to ride me. The way her thighs and breasts would jiggle and bounce with the motion as she slid up and down me. I would take her breasts into my hands, roll her nipples between my fingers, lap the sweet taste of her wetness, and make her cry out my name.
We wouldn't stop until the morning rose, and then we would jump into the shower together to wash it off. Another round would be sure to follow. Hell, I would take the whole week off work.
If I had her in my bed, I don't think there would ever be a reason for me to let her go.
She would know she was mine, irrevocably. I would mark her in every possible way. Claim her in a way that no man ever could again.
Damn it, what is going on with me? This isn't my nature. I'm not like this. I don't get worked up over women. Sure, I like them. I like their bodies, the scent of their hair, the idea of having some fun. But I've dedicated my life to business until now, and there has never been any room for this kind of dalliance.
I've never found a woman before who tempted me enough to distract me. Women don't affect me the way that she does. Even though I'm sometimes tempted to find myself in a relationship, it always seems like far too much hassle. I'm set in my ways by now. I like the single life. Being my own man, no one having any claim to my time. That's part of why I've been so successful in business - no distractions at home to make me take my eye off the ball.
So why is it that Liliana makes me feel this way? Why am I being like this?
I sigh deeply, tossing and turning in bed, trying to get comfortable. I gave her my number, but now that I think about it, it not enough. I should have taken hers instead. I should have taken her hotel room number, her address. Anything so that I could go to her right now, find her myself. Anything so that I wouldn’t have to wait. Why did I leave it all in her hands?
In business, I'm used to having all the power. So why did I give her power over me?
I didn't tell her where I live because I didn't want to see her judgment affected by my home. She and Frank don't seem to know who I am.
In certain circles, my name alone would be enough to tell everyone everything they needed to know. But they don't seem to have heard of me. I want to take advantage of that, make sure that she sees me for myself, not for what comes along with me.
But even so, even though there was a logical reason behind all of it, I can't help but think I made a mistake.
I should have found a way to stay in contact with her. But I'm not going to make that same mistake again. Tomorrow morning is a brand new day, and they still have the rest of the week here. That means there are plenty of opportunities for our paths to cross. I just have to make sure that it happens again sooner rather than later.
Monaco is a small place. How hard can it be to find one single tourist and her father? I have an army of employees at my disposal, and an assistant I can trust to be as discreet as possible. They can run down guest lists, call to leave a message to see if the receptionist recognizes the name, ask for a room number. Even if we can’t get the exact number thanks to privacy concerns, I can go and wait in the lobby and bump into them by accident. It could be that easy.
I will be able to find her. And when I do, I will make her mine. Nothing else will be acceptable.
I'm in deep, and the only way forward is to get inside her. I just need to get some sleep tonight, and tomorrow, it's going to happen.
Chapter Ten
Liliana
“Honey?” Dad calls out, knocking on my door.
It’s so familiar that, for the briefest of seconds, I forget that I’m in Monaco. I think that I must have overslept and I’m late for college because that’s what I would normally assume when my father knocks on my door like that. Like he has bad news.
But then I open my eyes and remember where I am, and frown. “What is it?” I ask, reaching for a robe that came with the hotel room, and which I left beside the bed last night.
