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The mug of cider is empty. She puts it down. Her eyes flick between my plate and hers.
“So, I guess I should say goodnight?”
“We’re going to talk about your time here. With me.”
She flinches, her eyes blinking. “What are you going to do to me?” I can hear a slight quiver in her voice, a little breathiness that says that she’s scared.
And turned on.
I drink a little more of my wine. “What do you imagine your life here is going to be like?”
“I don’t understand any of this, to be honest. I thought I was going to be…a prisoner or something, but you just served filet mignon.”
“What if I’m just treating you like this, stroking you with a velvet glove, so that you’re caught unaware?”
She pushes back from the table and hugs herself. “You could.”
I can see from her posture that she’s feeling vulnerable, which is the point. The question is how much of a bastard I want to be.
“You are here to repay your father’s debt to me.” The wine is dry. I savor it. “How do you think that will happen?”
Her small fists are clenched on the table now. I have the feeling that she wants to spring across the table, and what? Slap me? The idea of a tiny thing like her trying to assault me is hilarious. I smile, which just makes her eyebrows furrow.
Then she’s shooting to her feet. “I don’t have to stand for this.”
I take another sip of wine. “Feel free to leave. Your father will be dead by morning.”
Chapter Eight
Cat and String
Kelly
I feel like Iacopo is toying with me, batting me around like a cat with a piece of string. He’s amused, this fucker. I’m so mad that I’m going to blow.
I almost wish that he did just tell me that I was going to pay back the debt on my back. At least that would be straightforward. But he isn’t saying that, only asking me what I think will happen.
And the honest truth? I don’t know. The uncertainty is killing me.
It’s making me mad. I walk over to Iacopo. “Why don’t we just agree that I’ll repay the debt the way that I thought I would, hmm?”
I jump into his lap and straddle him. My hands go to the back of his head. I pull him in for a kiss.
My world is literally being turned upside down now. His mouth is hot and hungry, which I wasn’t expecting. I was just teasing, but he’s pulling my shirt off.
“Don’t pull a tiger’s tail, Kelly.”
Then his mouth is on my breast. I still have my bra on, but I’m moaning because I can’t take the heat or the lightning that’s spreading inside of me. I’ve never felt anything like this before.
He's pushing things off the table. I can hear the clatter of the plates smashing into the floor and the utensils clatter.
Then the table is bare. He's never stopped kissing my breasts, and now I'm on my back on the table that we were just eating on.
I don't know if I'm afraid of him or more turned on than I've ever been in my life. Maybe both.
My bra has a front clasp. He undoes it in a second and pushes my shirt off. Then he's sucking my nipple into his mouth. I cradle the back of his head. It's wrong to feel this way. I don't want to feel the heat of his mouth on me, but it feels so good. I'm a captive.
It's hard to remember that with his hands so gently cupping my breasts. I squeak when he starts to pinch and roll my nipples.
