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Oh, shit. What am I doing?
My father was talking to my brothers at dinner. They were all ignoring me—which is nothing unusual. I listened, though. I was hoping to find out when their next meeting was. I knew it would be much easier to leave if they were all occupied for a while. I not only found out they were all flying to America tonight, but I also discovered something else. My father asked my brother, Marco, if he had the security detail follow DeLuca after he stomped off. I knew right away who DeLuca was and my heart flip-flopped in my chest. Marco answered saying the man went back to The Grand. The Grand Majesty in Athens is my father’s favorite hotel, so I’m very familiar with it.
When my father got after me for picking at my food, I told him I had a migraine and escaped to my room. It’s not like he cared. Father is happier when I’m out of his sight. Once I closed and locked my bedroom door, I packed my small backpack and waited until they all left in the family’s helicopter. The security team knew I had gone to bed early with a headache and that made it ridiculously easy to escape.
I planned on getting out of town immediately. That’s exactly what I should have done. Staying in Athens is way too dangerous. I ignored that fact and instead, I came to this hotel bar, hoping to see a man who captured my attention from the moment he yelled at my father. From the first moment I saw him, it was almost as if I was a captive—caught in the gravitational pull of him. I couldn’t resist seeing him once more—even if it means I get caught.
I thought I would just watch him in the corner until he left. I didn’t expect him to see me and come on so strong. I feel like I’m trapped in the middle of a dream—one where what I should do and what I want to do are warring with one another.
It was a mistake coming here. I know it and I knew it even before I walked through the doors.
It would be an even bigger mistake to stay and go upstairs with him.
And yet…
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Antonio,” he breathes, his lips so close to mine that his air feathers across my skin, sending a thrill of hunger down my spine. He’s got an accent and it’s beautiful. It doesn’t always show. It didn’t show at all when he was yelling at my father, but when he’s talking to me, it’s thick—especially when he whispers. I allow his name to register inside of me.Antonio.I definitely like it better than his last name.
I jump slightly when I feel his hand slide under my dress and move further up. His fingers play with the lace covered elastic at my thigh. I feel a surge of wetness between my legs and shift uncomfortably. I’m incredibly turned on, but I’m playing with fire. It’s not safe for me to stay here. It’s not safe to be this close to Antonio DeLuca, either.
I’m sure of that.
My hand comes down against his as I look around. It’s kind of dark where we’re at, but it’s still a public bar. There are people here and right now, it feels like all of them are watching us.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I stutter.
“I’m showing you what fun we could have together.”
“You d-don’t know me.”
He lets out this little laugh that makes my body heat. The sound is dark and intoxicating. His husky tone vibrates through me, tempting me to jump off the edge of a cliff. I force myself to look up into his face, committing it to memory. He’s beautiful, but his face is harsh, covered in scars long forgotten. There’s also tattoos, small and beautiful painted on his temples and there’s a tear drop below his eye. The ink fascinates and terrifies me simultaneously. I can’t tell because he’s dressed, but I get the feeling he’s covered in tattoos, and I’d really like to see them. Do they all mean something? Or does he just like the design? Why did he do it?Is his cock even covered in ink? Is that even possible?
I’m thinking about things I never would normally. This is not me. Then again, nothing I’ve done the last couple of days is. Antonio is a taste of freedom and a wild urge I never thought I’d have the luxury to indulge. What does it say about me if I do this? Does it even matter? There’s a huge chance my father will find me and I’ll either die or marry a man old enough to be my grandfather. Would it be so bad to have a brief taste of sin—and that’s exactly what Antonio DeLuca is.Delicious, forbidden sin…
“I’m going to know you really fucking well,bella.”
He holds my gaze as his hand pushes up breaking free of my feeble hold. I feel his fingers dance across my skin to graze against the inside of my thigh. I squeak out an unintelligible sound when his fingers dive under my panties and press against the lips of my pussy.
“We can’t d-do this,” I tell him, but my words sound ridiculously weak—even to me. My heart is pounding—my breathing ragged.
“If you wanted me to stop, you wouldn’t be this wet,” he counters.
He shifts besides me and somehow brings my legs over his thigh as he angles me to him. My mouth goes dry, and reality seems to fade away. The only thing I’m left is with this man, who is bigger than life, touching me in ways that I’ve never been touched before by anyone but myself. It’s also pretty clear that nothing I ever did to myself felt anywhere as good as this.
“There are people here,” I remind him, but even as I utter the words, my eyes close when his fingers slide between the lips and begin exploring.
“Look at me, Lina.”
“I am.” I’m taking deep breaths trying to keep my cool, but I know things are quickly spiraling out of control. I’m pretty sure I don’t have the brain function to call an end to it either.
“Open your eyes,il mio tesoro.”
I have no idea what he’s saying but I love hearing him say it. I force my eyes to open the lids feeling so heavy it takes maximum effort. I want to stay in the small cocoon that he’s built around me—where there is nothing but his voice and pleasure. This man is more lethal than any drug.
It doesn’t get any easier when I see him. His dark eyes remind me of a raven with the moonlight shining down on its wing. They contain power and beauty while practically glowing with hunger.
Hunger for me.
