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It’s hard to even say it. I hate the thought of her with any of these men, the idea that any of them might be allowed to touch her. I think of her soft, breathy moan last night, and want to strangle the life out of any other man who managed to drag that sound from her pretty lips.
Gianna is quiet for a long moment. She looks at the sheet pensively, and I can see that she’s thinking of something. I’m half-afraid to ask what.
“Fine,” she says at last. “I don’t care what order you put them in—Carlo and the Lombardi brothers were the least offensive of the bunch, but I don’t want to marry any of them. And Ineverwant to see Andre again, if I can help it. But if I don’t fight you on this, and if I agree to never bring up you marrying me instead again, you have to do something for me.”
Her tone is so absolutely serious that I stare at her for a moment, half disbelieving. “Gianna, this isn’t up for discussion—”
Her chin tilts up again. “It is,” she says flatly. “Because you can make me do this, but I can make it miserable for us both. I can make it infuriating. Any of them will still marry me, because they don’t wantme; they want the money and influence that comes with making me their wife. You can punish me again for it, but I don’t think you will because I enjoy it, and you’re too afraid to lose control—”
“Gianna.” My patience is wearing thin, and while she’s technically right, that doesn’t mean I’m enjoying being lectured by a girl who is meant to bemyward. “What is it that you want?”
“I want what you promised me.” Her eyes don’t leave mine for a second, even as her cheeks flush, and I can see that flutter of her pulse beating harder in her throat. “I want another lesson. But I want you toshowme.”
My own heart thuds in my chest, my cock twitching with renewed and entirely inappropriate interest. “What do you mean?” I ask carefully, but I suspect I already know.
“I want to see how you touch yourself.” Her face is flushed, but to her credit, she doesn’t flinch, even though I can tell she’s embarrassed. “I want you to show me howyouwould want to be touched. The places that feel good. I want you to show me how I would touch my husband, enough that I’ll know exactly how to please him. So I can make him feel good enough that he’ll want to please me, too.” Her lips press tightly together. “I don’t want to just lie there and pretend that I like it. I want it to begood. So show me what men like. Show me whatyouwould like.”
God. It feels as if I can’t spend even a few moments in her presence without being so turned on that it’s nearly painful. The prospect of what she’s asking is both alluring and something that I know that I should not, without a doubt, agree to.
“Whoever you marry, they wouldn’t be happy to know that I—”
“They won’t know.” Gianna glares at me stubbornly. “You’re not going to touchme, Alessio. You’re not going to damage my precious innocence in any way.” There’s a sarcastic tone in her voice that makes me want to get up, pull her into my lap, and damage that innocence in so many different ways, after I’ve reddened her ass for the way she’s spoken to me since she walked in. “You’re just going to demonstrate. I won’t touch you, either. I’ll still be just aspureas any of those boys could possibly want—but with a little more knowledge.”
Deep down, I know my acquiescence is less because I think her argument is sound and more because the idea of jerking off in front of Gianna, even if it’s still only my hand pleasuring myself, sounds so much better than the lonely pleasure I’m going to indulge in after she leaves otherwise. Because it turns me on, because I want it, and because fighting my own desires has become utterly exhausting, even if I know this is one more step down a slippery slope that could send us both tumbling into something we can’t take back.
“If I agree,” I say slowly, “you won’t bring up marriage between us again? This will be the last conversation we have about it?”
Gianna nods. I don’t know if she’s agreeing because she knows it’s a lost cause, or because she is hoping that what she’s proposed will turn into something else—something more like what she wants—but either way, it would mean not having to fight her on this.
“If you’re lying to me—” I pause. “If you don’t keep your word, Gianna, I will choose someone for you. Immediately. You will have no more say in the matter. Is that understood?”
She nods again, more slowly this time. I can see the light quiver in her lower lip and the anticipation in her face. “I understand,” she whispers softly.
“I mean it.” I need her to understand, unequivocally, that I do. “Thatwillbe the consequence.”
“I know.” She bites her lip. “Here? Do you want to—”
Her eagerness is more arousing than it should be. “No.” I shake my head. If I’m going to demonstrate this to Gianna, it’s not going to be in my office.Especiallynot here, where I can remember seeing her bent over my desk so prettily. “We’ll go up to the library again.”
It should feel awkward when I meet her up there. Itshouldfeel uncomfortable, shifting the wing chair so that I’m facing her as she curls up on the chaise again, watching me with a curious, frank interest in her eyes that almost makes me feel as if I’m on display. It should all be uncomfortable.
But instead, I’m already half-hard. This feeds into my desires so perfectly, this role of teaching her, showing her exactly where I would want to be touched, licked, sucked by her pretty mouth. If she were mine, this lesson would go very differently.
But she’s not, I remind myself as I sink into the chair, facing her.
“Are you going to take your clothes off?” Gianna’s eyes sparkle with teasing mischief, and I glare at her, trying not to think about the idea that shewantsto see me naked.
“No,” I tell her flatly. “You don’t need to see all of me for this. Just my—” I clear my throat, forcing the word out, even though it feels as if I shouldn’t be saying it to her. There’s noifabout it, actually—I just shouldn’t be. “Just my cock.”
Her teeth sink deeper into her lip when I saycock, that flush at her throat creeping up, her gaze dropping to my lap. There’s that curiosity still in her eyes, and she looks at me for a moment before glancing back up to my face. “What would you want me to do, if I were the one touching you right now?”
“If—” I take a slow breath, clinging to my self-control with what now feels like the very skin of my teeth. Imagining her doing these things to me will come so close to undoing me, and I have to separate myself from it somehow. “If I wanted a woman to do this to me,” I correct, trying so very hard to make it not abouther, “I would tell her to get on her knees. Right here.” I spread my legs a little wider, gesturing to the space between them. “And if I were instructing her, I would tell her to undo my belt.”
As I say it, I reach for the buckle, thumbing it open smoothly. Gianna’s gaze is fixed on my hand, her breath coming a little faster now with nervous anticipation. “And then I would tell her to take down my zipper and slip her fingers inside. Likely, I’d already be hard, but I like for a woman to go slowly. I’d tell her to ease my cock out, to be a good girl, and make sure it was nice and hard for her mouth.”
Fuck. The last comes out before I can stop it, and I know that within moments, I’ve slipped too easily into the role of teaching her.She just needs to know the mechanics, not what you would fuckingsay,I chastise myself as I drag down my zipper. I can’t miss what those words have done to Gianna, the way she’s breathing harder now, her hands pressed into her lap, her cheeks rosy with arousal. If I told her to do just that right now, she would. She would get on her knees for me and follow every instruction.
My fingers slip inside my slacks, touching the hard line of my cock in my boxer briefs, and I hesitate. It’s not too late to back out, to go ahead and have the inevitable fight with Gianna over my refusal, and send her to bed. This will mean my cock is the first she ever sees—and that shouldn’t thrill me the way it does. It shouldn’t make me throb; my balls are already tight and aching. It shouldn’t make me want to come for her, so my orgasm can be the first she sees, too.
