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He was staring at me now as if I’d grown an extra head. And my embarrassment turned back to mortification.Time to make a speedy exit.
I turned, intending to head back to the ball and get the heck out of Dodge. I had made a fool of myself. Of course, he didn’t have any interest in initiating a virgin. Why had I made a big deal about it? But before I could go far, he caught me, wrapped his arms around my midriff and brought my back flush against his hard chest to halt my getaway.
His breath was warm against my nape.
‘Don’t go,’ he said, and for the first time, he actually sounded sincere.
But it was too late, I felt compromised and exposed. What on earth had made me think I could pull off the femme fatale act with a guy like Renzo Camaro?
‘I should leave,’ I said, struggling to get out of his arms. ‘It’s obvious you don’t want to sleep with me anymore,’ I added, while trying to sound indifferent, because I couldn’t bear to make an even bigger fool of myself and have him pity me.
But to my surprise his arms tightened and he murmured, ‘Surely even a virgin can tell when a man wants her. It is not something I can hide,’ he said. ‘Especially if you don’t stop wriggling.’
And then I felt it, the prominent ridge nestled against my bottom. I stopped struggling, the evidence of his desire making the lava sweep back into my core.
‘Oh,’ I said, stupidly flattered and exhilarated—the embarrassment fading.
He turned me in his arms. There was gravity in his voice when he asked, ‘Are you concerned I will hurt you? That I cannot be gentle? That I will be a brute? Because of the stories of my past?’
I was so unprepared for the question—and the wounded frustration in his expression before he could mask it—I blurted out the truth. ‘No... I’m not even sure I want you to be gentle.’
I just need you to want me—with the same passion I want you.
I shoved the thought aside.
Needy, much?
‘Then why did you run?’ He frowned, not prepared to let it go.
It was obvious I’d offended him, and I was not sure how. His ego had seemed indestructible until now. But as the silence stretched between us and he continued to stare at me, I knew I had to tell him the truth. Or as much of the truth as I could risk without tearing what was left of my pride to shreds.
‘Because I thought you didn’t want to do it anymore,’ I said. ‘Once you knew you were my first.’
He indicated the strident erection still ruining the line of his suit. It would almost be comical if it weren’t so—I swallowed heavily—so unbelievably hot.
‘Well, you were wrong,’ he said. ‘The pants do not lie, no?’
I laughed. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to be funny, but I relaxed nonetheless. ‘Yes, I see your point,’ I said. ‘Pointbeing the operative word.’
‘And now she makes fun of the effect she has on me,’ he declared, with mock indignation. ‘I hope you know being in such a state is painful.’
‘Sorry.’ I sniggered, enjoying his chagrin and his discomfort if I was honest. It felt ridiculously empowering to know I was the cause.
He grasped my hand again, opened my fingers, then lifted my hand to his mouth and bit into the flesh at the base of my thumb. I jolted, the moan escaping my lips as heat flared.
‘That is payback,’ he said.
I nodded dumbly, not able to speak anymore, my need painful now too.
‘Do you still wish me to be your first,Principessa?’ he asked.
I nodded with embarrassing enthusiasm, stupidly touched not just by the direct question, but the rawness in his tone. And the fierce desire in his eyes.
Maybe I was just another conquest to this man. I had no doubt at all I was not the first virgin he’d slept with either. After all, if he had seemed surprised earlier, he seemed super confident again now.
But as he led me down the corridor and up a flight of stairs to his opulent living quarters, my heart thumped against my ribs. Had I made the right decision? To trust Renzo Camaro to show me what pleasure really meant? When I had never trusted any man before him? I didn’t know. But for once, I refused to second-guess myself. And the lava pulsing like wildfire in my sex.
Renzo
