Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
PIETRO
"Where are we going?" she asks when I turn away from the route to the compound.
"The office."
She turns to me, confusion creasing her brow. "The office? Why?"
I pull into the underground parking garage of Sartori Import & Export. The security guard nods as we pass, not questioning.
"Because I need to be alone with you," I say, killing the engine. "Not with my entire family listening through the walls."
The compound has too many ears, too many eyes. Whatever's haunting Nora, whatever made her pale at the gala, I want her to tell me without fear of being overheard.
The elevator doors close behind us, sealing us in silence. Nora leans against the wall,. The dress was made for her. I can't imagine seeing it on another woman.
"Whatever you're running from," I say, watching her reflection in the polished doors, "whatever you're afraid of, I can help you."
Her eyes meet mine in the reflection. "Pietro—"
"Just give me a name." My voice drops lower, darker. "One name, and I'll make him disappear. Whoever hurt you, whoever you're hiding from—they won't breathe another day."
The elevator stops at the executive floor. Neither of us moves.
"It's not that simple," she whispers.
"It is that simple." I turn to her, cupping her face. "You're mine to protect now. Nothing touches what's mine."
Something flickers in her eyes—fear, guilt, longing—I can't decipher it before she closes the distance between us. Her lips press against mine, soft and desperate.
I know what she's doing. Using this to avoid whatever truth she's hiding. I should stop her. Should demand answers.
But her mouth is heaven, and I'm a damned man starving for salvation.
My hands slide to her waist, pulling her against me. She tastes like champagne and secrets, sweet and intoxicating. Her fingers thread through my hair, nails scraping my scalp, and a groan escapes me.
Fuck. I've wanted this since she walked into my office. Wanted to claim that defiant mouth, to feel her surrender. Now she's pressed against me, soft curves against hard angles, and it's better than any fantasy.
I back her against the elevator wall, my hands everywhere. Her waist, her hips, the bare skin of her back where the dress dips low. She arches into me, making a sound that shoots straight to my cock.
Her lips part, inviting me deeper, and I take the invitation. My tongue slides against hers, claiming, possessing. She's fire in my arms, burning away the emptiness that's lived inside me for years.
I break the kiss, trailing my lips down her throat. "Tell me what you're running from," I murmur against her pulse.
"Not tonight." Her voice is breathless, her hands fisted in my jacket. "Please, Pietro. Tonight, just—"
"Just what?" I lift my head, meeting her eyes.
"Just make me forget everything but you."
The words hit me like a bullet to the chest. No woman has ever looked at me the way she does. Like I could break her or save her, and she's willing to risk either.
I should say no. Should demand the truth first.
Instead, I reach past her to press the button for my executive floor.
"Tonight," I agree, brushing my thumb across her lower lip. "But tomorrow, no more secrets."
She nods, relief crossing her face before she pulls me down for another kiss.
The elevator doors slide open to the executive floor. I guide Nora through the darkened office.
"Where are we going?" she asks, her voice husky in the darkness.
I lead her past her desk, past the conference room, to the far wall of my office where a bookshelf stands. My fingers find the hidden switch, and the shelf slides silently to the side, revealing a door.
"You have a secret room?" Nora's eyebrows lift as I unlock it.
I push the door open, flicking on the lights to reveal what lies beyond. A fully furnished bedroom. King-sized bed with black sheets. Bathroom to the side. Minibar in the corner.
"Sometimes business runs late," I explain, watching her reaction carefully. "Or early. Sometimes I don't make it home."
Nora steps inside, her fingers trailing over the dresser. She turns to me with a knowing smile that twists something in my chest.
"And how many women have you brought here, Mr. Sartori?" Her tone is light, teasing, but there's an edge beneath it.
I could lie. But I hate lies.
"A few," I admit.
She nods, unsurprised. "I figured." She walks to the bed, running her hand over the sheets. "It's okay, you know. This doesn't have to be complicated." She turns to face me. "We can just have sex a couple times and get it out of our systems."
Something cold slides down my spine at her words. Get it out of our systems. Like I'm a fever she needs to break.
I don't let my expression change. Don't let her see how those casual words cut.
"Is that what you think this is?" I ask, my voice controlled.
She shrugs. "What else would it be?"
I move closer, stalking her like prey. "You think you can walk away after one taste? After two?" I stop inches from her, close enough to feel her breath quicken. "Baby, if you try me once, you'll want forever."
She raises an eyebrow, that defiant look I can never resist. "Pretty confident for a man who hasn't delivered yet."
The challenge in her eyes ignites something primal in me. She turns toward the bedroom, but I catch her wrist, pulling her back.
"First stop isn't the bedroom," I growl against her ear.
Her pulse jumps beneath my fingers. "No?"
"No." I back her toward my desk. "I've thought about this since the first day you walked in."
In one fluid motion, I lift her, her legs wrapping around my waist. With my free arm, I sweep everything off the desk sending it all crashing to the floor.
I set her on the edge, her dress riding up her thighs. Her eyes are wide, pupils dilated with desire.
"You've thought about fucking me on your desk?" she asks, breathless.
"Every. Fucking. Day." I step between her legs, my hands sliding up her thighs.
"Every time you walk in with those files.
Every time you lean over to show me something.
" My fingers find the edge of her panties.
"Every time you call me 'Mr. Sartori' in that proper voice while looking at me like you want to devour me. "
Her hands grip my shoulders, nails digging in through my jacket.
"And now," I continue, my voice dropping lower, "I'm going to show you exactly why you'll never get me out of your system."
NORA
His hands find the zipper of my dress, but impatience wins. With one motion, Pietro tears the fabric down the middle. The sound of ripping silk echoes through the office as the dress falls to the desk beneath me, leaving me in nothing but my black lace underwear.
Pietro takes a small step back, his eyes darkening as they travel over my exposed skin. The hunger in his gaze makes me feel both vulnerable and powerful.
"Perfect," he breathes, the word hanging between us like a prayer. "Perfetta."
No one has ever looked at me like I'm something precious. Something to be savored.
Before I can respond, he's moving forward again, one hand tangling in my hair. He pulls my head back gently but firmly, exposing my throat. I gasp at the sensation, my body arching toward him instinctively.
"I knew you'd be responsive," he murmurs against my skin. "So sensitive to every touch."
His lips find my throat, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of my neck. Each press of his mouth sends electricity coursing through me. When his teeth graze my collarbone, I can't hold back a moan.
"That's it," he encourages, his voice rough with desire. "Let me hear you."
His mouth continues its journey downward, across my chest to the swell of my breasts. Slowly, he drags his tongue along the edge of my bra, teasing the sensitive skin there.
My fingers dig into his shoulders as he pulls the lace cup down, exposing my breast to the cool air. When his hot mouth closes around my nipple, my back arches off the desk.
"Pietro," I gasp, threading my fingers through his hair.
He hums against my skin, the vibration sending shockwaves through my body. His tongue circles my nipple before he sucks harder, drawing another desperate sound from my throat.
As he lavishes attention on my breasts, alternating between gentle licks and possessive sucking, my mind races with the bitter truth I can't share.
After tomorrow, when he learns who I really am he'll be the one wanting me out of his system. This night will become something he'll regret, a betrayal he never saw coming.
The thought sends a sharp pain through my chest, but I push it away. I can't think about tomorrow. Not when his mouth is doing sinful things to my body.
Truth is, I don't have much experience with sex. My relationship with Declan was more strategic than passionate, our encounters perfunctory rather than pleasurable. But I'd rather die than admit that to Pietro. His ego is massive enough already.
If he's as good as he claims to be, he'll have to work for it. I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing how easily he affects me.
I school my features into something more controlled, less desperate. When he looks up at me, I raise an eyebrow in challenge.
"Is that all you've got?" I ask, my voice steadier than I feel. "I thought you were going to show me why I'd never get you out of my system."
His eyes narrow, a dangerous smile spreading across his face.
"Oh, baby," he says, his voice dropping to a growl that makes my thighs clench. "I'm just getting started."
Pietro drops to his knees before me, his hands sliding down my legs. I brace myself against the cool wood of the desk as I feel the first warm touch of his lips against my ankle.
His mouth travels up my calf with agonizing slowness, each open-mouthed kiss sending shivers up my spine. His tongue traces the sensitive skin behind my knee, and my breath catches as he licks his way up my thigh.
He nears the apex of my thighs and I can't stop myself from crying out. He pauses just below my black lace underwear, his breath hot against my damp skin. Without warning, he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of my inner thigh.
"Ah!" I arch off the desk, my hands flying to his shoulders. The sharp pain melts instantly into pleasure that pools low in my belly.
He does it again, higher this time, just above the edge of my panties. The dual sensation of his teeth and tongue creates a delicious friction that makes my hips buck toward him involuntarily.
"Please," I gasp, my fingers tangling in his dark hair as I try to tug the scrap of lace aside.
His hands clamp down on my hips, pinning me to the desk. "Don't," he commands, his voice rough and low. "You move only when I say you move."
The authority in his tone sends liquid heat flooding between my legs. I whimper as he presses one last, sharp bite beneath my hipbone before soothing it with his tongue.
I watch, mesmerized, as he hooks his thumbs into the sides of my panties without removing them. He pushes the fabric aside, exposing my bare skin. My breath catches as he leans forward, his dark eyes locked with mine.
The first slow swipe of his tongue nearly undoes me. "Oh god," I moan, my head falling back as he tastes me with deep, languid strokes that build an unbearable pressure inside me.
He circles my clit with the tip of his tongue, applying just the right amount of pressure to make my body tremble.
His lips close around the sensitive nub, sucking gently at first, then harder as my thighs tighten around his head. When he slips a finger inside me, I cry out, my hips lifting off the desk.
"Look at me," he commands, removing his mouth only to replace it with the pad of his thumb.
I force my head up, meeting his intense stare. The sight of him kneeling between my legs, his lips wet from tasting me, sends a fresh wave of arousal crashing through me. His thumb keeps up steady pressure on my clit as his finger continues pumping inside me.
"Just like that, Nora," he growls. "Watch me while I make you come."
He lowers his head again, his tongue replacing his thumb as he adds a second finger. The stretch sends sparks behind my eyelids as he curls his fingers against that perfect spot inside me.
His tongue works in relentless circles while his fingers stroke me from within. The dual sensations build until my entire body trembles with impending release.
I can't look away from the possessive hunger in his eyes as he brings me closer to the edge. When his teeth graze my clit gently, then his tongue soothes the sting, I shatter.
My back arches off the desk as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me. I scream his name, my thighs clamping around his head as I ride out the convulsions that seem to go on forever.
He doesn't stop until I'm limp and trembling against the desk, his fingers still moving inside me to prolong the aftershocks. When he finally withdraws, I feel empty and boneless, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath.