AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Of course," I reply, trying to maintain my composure.
She downs the rest of her wine, a rosy flush spreading across her cheeks. "That was delicious. It's been ages since I've enjoyed a glass like that – you should know, I'm a bit of a lightweight."
"Marvelous," I say sarcastically, and she grins – then, unexpectedly, she reaches up and boops me on the nose. Her playfulness catches me off guard, but I smile in response.
Setting her empty glass on a nearby table, she slips off her shoes and places them on the stone steps leading to the garden. "What are you doing?" I ask, bemused.
"I want to feel the grass beneath my feet," she replies, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Life is all about getting a little dirty, don't you think?"
As she runs barefoot through the garden, laughter bubbling from her lips, I watch her with a mixture of admiration and desire. There's something about her – not just her body, but her mind and spirit – that captivates me. In her presence, my rigid, work-driven life seems to lose some of its importance, replaced by a yearning for the carefree happiness that she embodies.
Her laughter echoes through the stillness, stirring something deep within me. The sight of her dancing among the flowers, her dark curls bouncing with each step, awakens a desire I've kept buried for far too long. The urge to join her is overwhelming, and for a fleeting moment, I ponder if perhaps I'm missing out on something more – something beyond the confines of my carefully constructed world.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she calls out, her voice lilting like a melody on the wind. "Come on, feel the earth beneath your feet!"
I hesitate, torn between the man I've become and the one I could be with her.
The moon casts a silver glow over the garden as Lulu comes bounding back to me, her curls bouncing with each step. She's panting, smiling, and her eyes are shining like stars. As she stumbles, I instinctively reach out and catch her, wrapping her in my arms.
"Thank you," she breathes, looking up at me. Her chest heaves with each exhale, and the warmth of her body against mine sends shivers coursing through me. I can't help myself any longer – the combination of her playful spirit and her enticing presence is too much for me to resist.
"Fuck it," I mutter, and before I know it, my lips are on hers. She kisses me back, her mouth warm and inviting. Our passion intensifies as I deepen the kiss, our tongues dancing together in a feverish duet. But as the reality of our situation sinks in, my common sense kicks into gear, and I reluctantly pull away.
"I'm sorry," I apologize, my voice barely above a whisper. "That was unprofessional of me."
Her smile falters, and she looks crestfallen. "No problem," she replies, bending down to pick up her shoes. We walk back to the mansion in silence, the weight of what just happened hanging heavily between us.
As we part ways, she heads to her bedroom and I to mine. I pause for a moment, watching her walk away, her feet bare and my jacket still draped over her shoulders. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks: Lulu is a dangerous distraction – a beautiful, captivating distraction that threatens to unravel all the control I've worked so hard to maintain.
But as I close the door to my room, I start to wonder if maybe she's worth the risk.
ChapterFourteen
The door shuts behind me and I lean against it, trying to catch my breath. My hands press against my lips, still tingling from the feeling of his on mine. I can't believe that my first kiss was Giovanni Maldonado. He doesn't know what he's taken from me, and what he's given.
When I told him about my father's controlling nature, how he kept me locked away for so long, I didn't mention that it was all to protect my "purity" – a commodity to be sold to the highest bidder when the time was right. But now, that part of me is gone, snatched away in the heat of a stolen moment.
I kissed a man, not just any man, but Giovanni, and my father will never be able to take that away from me. It was raw and organic, and I find myself wanting more, even if it is coming from him.
I step away from the door and hug his jacket close to me, inhaling the scent of his cologne mixed with his own unique aroma. I don't know what to think about him. In some ways, I hate him for keeping me here, like a prisoner; in other ways, I find myself falling for him.
"Get a grip," I whisper to myself as the thought crosses my mind. With newfound determination, I rip off his jacket and fling it across the room. No, I won't fall for him. I might have allowed that kiss – shared it, even – but that doesn't mean I'll give him everything.
Still, it's clear he couldn't resist me. I walk over to the mirror and look at my reflection. For once, I feel beautiful and confident in my curves. The dresses he bought for me fit me perfectly, accenting my figure in all the right places. I can't deny the thrill that comes from the attention he gives me. I crave more of it.
"God, I wish I had someone to talk to about this," I mutter under my breath, feeling more alone than ever as I sit on the edge of my bed. My mother isn't much help; she was basically me growing up – never around boys and then sold off into an arranged marriage with my father. It's all she ever knew, and though they had their moments, she seemed happy for the most part.
I pick up my phone, turning it over in my hands, debating whether to text her. But what would that accomplish?
"Ugh," I groan, tossing the phone onto the bed. The device bounces once before settling into a sea of silk sheets. Frustrated, I pull the dress from my body and toss it aside, the fabric pooling on the floor. Striding to the bathroom, I take a long, hot shower, trying to wash away my conflicting thoughts.
Climbing into bed, the moment I shut my eyes, I'm overwhelmed by the memory of Giovanni's lips on mine – the way his hands wrapped around my body, pulling me close. I can still feel the firm grip he had on my neck, his lips moving against mine with hungry urgency. My thoughts drift to the image of him with that prostitute, and I can't help but imagine his lips on mine while he enters me.
"Damn it," I whisper, unable to stop myself as my hand slips beneath the sheets. My fingers dance across my clit, teasing and stroking, and I imagine it's his tongue instead. The fantasy feels so real that I plunge two fingers inside myself, gasping at the sensation. His name escapes my lips as I bring myself to a shuddering climax, his taste still lingering on my tongue.
As I drift off to sleep, a wicked thought crosses my mind. It might be fun to tease him a little at work tomorrow. Maybe I'll have a little fun with him, see how far his self-control goes.
"Or maybe you're just playing with fire,"I warn myself with a smirk. But deep down, I know I've already made up my mind. And perhaps, in doing this, I might find some power of my own.
