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I should be pushing him away, but all I want is more. More heat; more suction; more nips of his teeth. Enough to heighten the sensation and cause a little pain, but also make me arch into his mouth, and score my fingers on his scalp. I’m starting to think he likes it when I do that, because he groans and sucks a little harder every time I do.
Desire builds in my core, and I’m getting slicker with each suction of his mouth. When he switches to the other breast, I almost beg him to stop, unable to handle anymore. But another part of me tells me to shut the hell up and enjoy this. After all, I agreed to be his, so why should I fight it? Rationally, I know I shouldn’t allow him to throw me off course, but my hormones are on fire, and I have no desire to put out the flames.
I squirm in his grip, my center rubbing against him, and I gasp when I hit my clit at just the right angle, making my pleasure sing higher. It’s nothing like when I touch myself in the shower to get off. It was the only place in my apartment that I knew didn’t have a camera, and even though I had no idea what I was doing, I figured it out quick enough. Still, right now, the only thing I want is to rub against him over and over again, trying to get to the edge.
I grind into him, making him moan, before he pulls his mouth away from me, and lifts his head to stare down into my eyes. His face is flushed, his eyes burning into mine, as he rolls his hips, giving me exactly what I need. My breath hitches as streaks of sensation move through me, and I drop my hand from his hair to grip at his shoulders. “Fuck,” Nico hisses. “That’s it, Gia, grind on my cock. Show me what you need.”
I barely think about the order, letting my body take over as I move over him. Even with two layers of fabric separating us, the friction is enough to have me climbing higher toward my orgasm. I need more, but how the hell do I ask for more? The words won’t leave my mouth, and my eyes can’t leave his.
Suddenly, he stops moving, and the fire in his eyes dims, confusing me. But then I freeze in shock and horror when he turns his head sharply and barks, “What?” to whoever is behind him. Oh my God. I wrench my hands away from his shoulders, scrambling to pull down my shirt and fix my bra. I don’t even listen to the reply of whoever it is, but Nico lets out an annoyed sigh. “Fine, I’ll be out in a few minutes. Now leave.” His head turns back to me, and I quickly turn away to avoid his gaze. “No point in playing shy now,cara mia,” he says, but I still don’t look at him. He reaches up and tilts my face toward him with the palm of his hand. I want to look away, but his eyes hold me captive. “We’ll finish this later.” It’s a statement, not a request.
He eases back, sets me on my feet, staring down at me with an intense expression on his face. Then, he turns around, walks back to the chair, and leans down to pick up the book off the floor. He stares at it for a moment, before a smirk pulls at his lips, and he holds it out to me. I don’t move forward, just stare at him. “Take it, Gia. Finish reading it, but I want you to make note of what gets you excited, because we’ll be discussing it later.”
“It’s just a book,” I mumble, moving forward just enough to take it out of his hand. God, I have never been so mortified in my entire life. “Nothing really to discuss.”
“Come here, Gia,” he commands. The tone of his voice sets me on edge and I glare at him. He narrows his eyes at me in warning. I huff out a little sigh and move toward him. He pulls me into his arms, and slams his mouth down on mine. The heat between us rises instantly, and I sink against him, until he abruptly pulls away and rasps, “We’ll be discussing all kinds of things later, and most of them are going to be about how I’ll be tasting you in ways that will make those fictional book heroes pale in comparison.” Then, he pulls away, turns on his heel, and leaves me standing there staring after him like an idiot.
When I hear the library door shut, I set the book down on the couch, dropping beside it, and then bury my face in my hands as I try to hold in the scream that’s bubbling up in my throat. God. God. What the hell is wrong with me? What the hell just happened? Did I really just let him do that?
I need to get a grip. I need to be thinking about how to get out of here, not how he makes me feel, or the way he expertly plays my body. Which means that whatever plans he has for later, it’s not going to happen. I’m not sure how I’m going to distract him from that, but I’m resourceful so I’m sure I’ll figure out a way. Hell, if I have to, I’ll feign being sick and find a way to make myself puke so he’s so disgusted with me he’ll stay far away. Yes, that could work.
I lift my head out of my hands, and let out a yelp when I see a smirking Sofia standing in front of me. “What are you, a ninja?” I gasp out, staring up at her.
“You learn to be light on your feet around here,” she replies, her smirk turning into a grin. “Now, I’m sure whatever has you looking all morose has to do with the man who just left looking far too satisfied with himself, so I figure it’s about time you and I get to know each other. Which is why you and I are going down to the kitchen.”
I blink at her in shock. “We are?” I glance around. “I thought Nico said I have to stay in here.”
She scoffs. “And when have women ever listened to a man? Are you going to try and escape?” She arches a brow at me. “Because I’ll tell you if that’s your plan you won’t get very far. Not because I’m scared of Nico, but because my man will tan my ass, and while a spanking is fun, I don’t relish the idea of not being able to sit properly tomorrow when I have a crap ton of paperwork to do. And I suppose I don’t want to piss Nico off enough that he would fire me, but he’s the least of my concerns.”
She finishes speaking and I can only blink at her. “I, uh, I promised no more escape attempts. So, no, I won’t try to escape.” That wouldn’t stop me from checking out the exits should I ever decide to change that, but for now, I know I need to bide my time.
She gives a short nod. “Alright then. Let’s get going.” She turns on her heel and stalks to where Davide is waiting for us, arms crossed over his chest as he stands sentry in front of the door. “Don’t bother arguing,” Sofia tells him bluntly. “We’re going to the kitchen, and if I have to kick you in the balls to get you out of the way, I will. You can follow and I’ll take the fall when Nico finds out and loses his shit. So we can do this easily, or you can be an idiot and stand in my way.”
Davide says nothing as he assesses her. Finally he looks at me and narrows his eyes. “No funny business,” he warns. I just nod, and he looks back at Sofia. “Anything happens to her and it’s going to be my ass too, so you better behave, woman.”
“You’re nowhere as fearsome as Dante,” she sneers at him. “But if you want some pointers, I’m sure I could get him to help with that.” He glares at her, but doesn’t reply, and instead turns and opens the door, waving us through.
I feel like Nico is going to jump out from behind a door at any point as we make our way down to the kitchen. Though when I pass one of the doors, I swear I can hear his voice coming from behind it. Sofia doesn’t react though, so I guess I’m hearing things. But by the time we get down to the kitchen, I’m feeling giddy.
Walking in, I take in the large industrial looking kitchen. Nico or his parents didn’t spare any expense in here, and from the amount of people, I’d say he doesn’t skimp on the staff either. My father’s kitchen isn’t this grand, though he also didn’t skimp on appliances. Still, it looks like the man shouting in Italian at the people around him actually knows what he’s doing. A few people flinch when he throws a utensil at one of the other cooks, who expertly dodges it and then just keeps on mixing whatever is in front of him.
“Romeo,” Sofia barks, making the chef turn toward us, face dark red and eyes wide with anger. But when his eyes land on me, they cool and assess me quickly. “This is Giulia,” Sofia tells him, giving him a pointed look. “Our guest.”
I’ll give it to Romeo, he doesn’t even blink at that. Then again, I guess I couldn’t expect him to really correct her and call me a prisoner. Instead, he narrows his dark eyes and purses his lips. “Too damn skinny,” he complains, looking me up and down. “What, you do not like my food?” He curses me a bit in Italian, and a small smirk pulls at my lips.
My father’s chef is a silent man, rarely saying anything, and I find I like Romeo’s blunt nature far better. “It is delicious. I’m sure if you keep cooking for me that I’ll fatten up in no time,” I say to him in Italian.
His eyes soften, but he doesn’t lose his scowl. “Man doesn’t want to fuck skin and bones,” he informs me crudely, making Sofia roll her eyes and shake her head at him in exasperation. “We’ll fatten you up. Now, why are you in my kitchen?” he demands of Sofia.
“I’m in the mood to bake and Gia is going to help,” Sofia answers.
“In my kitchen?” he sputters, clearly insulted. “What is wrong with my desserts?”
“Nothing, you old bastard. But sometimes a woman likes to work and talk, and I want to make tiramisu. And we both know that you like mine over your own.”
He glares at her. “You are lucky I don’t have enough time today. Fine, but you do not bother me or my people. And stay out of the way.”
Sofia rolls her eyes at him, but then leads me over to another area with a separate prep table, oven, and fridge. “Romeo doesn’t like to bake,” she tells me with a wink. “So this space is never used except if Nico is entertaining, and then usually he brings in a pastry chef, or I help out. ” She looks at Davide. “Might want to pull up a chair because we’re going to be a while.” He glares at her but does as she suggests. She turns back to me and asks, “How much baking have you done?”
