9. Teo
9
TEO
I push Isabella backward through the restroom doors, stopping only to lock them behind us.
It’s only a minor delay, a few seconds at maximum, but it’s enough for the desire roaring within me to boil over once more.
Behind me, Isabella’s taunting voice goads me back to her. “I don’t think that will— mmph!”
I silence her with a kiss so fierce it has us both staggering backward. My hands are holding her face just so, locking her into my inescapable lust. Her perfect pink lips are massacred by my sheer desire to consume her whole.
I use the movement to keep us traveling backward until I have her pressed into the wall, caged beneath my chest.
As far as restrooms go, this is by far one of the most high-end one I’ve ever seen. A chandelier glimmers above us, casting a warm light over the white tiles and mahogany wall features, making everything feel just that little bit more expensive.
But a restroom is still a restroom, and there’s something about capturing Isabella’s mouth in mine and licking across her bottom lip that feels dirty because we are here.
Despite the champagne and the Michelin star and that fucking dress, I can make her just as cheap as the rest of us.
It’s satisfying in a carnal kind of way, as if by stripping her of her dignity, I can somehow control her and control this devastating feeling of pure desire.
Isabella moans as I hitch her leg up to my waist. The feeling of her bare skin turns what was supposed to be a gentle caress of my hand into claws.
But everything I give her, she takes and returns. Her fingers lace into my hair, and she pulls hard. I withdraw from her mouth only long enough to begin attacking her neck.
Her smooth skin feels so fucking tantalizing. It’s not fair that she’s this fucking perfect.
I’m suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to make her imperfect.
“Fuck!” she gasps as my teeth graze a particularly perfect spot at the base of her neck, sucking and biting and licking until I’m sure I’ve left my mark.
I lean back just enough to admire my work. Something within me roars triumphantly.
I did it. I ruined you. Now, no one will want you but me.
It’s a filthy fucking lie. Especially when she looks back at me through hooded eyes, eyeliner smudged, perfectly blonde curls lying haphazardly over shoulders, now bare of their fallen dress straps. Her mouth is swollen and gaping at me.
Ruined. But not ruined enough.
I surge forward again, this time claiming those lips more sharply, biting hard enough to draw blood.
She groans against it, squirming beneath me to retaliate in kind. It’s almost comical to feel her try. I never thought it would make me so fucking hard trying to anticipate her next move.
She reaches beneath my shirt and scratches all the way down my back, smiling when I hiss into her mouth. She wraps her hands around my shirt collar and pulls me directly into her chest, not releasing me until I’ve caressed every inch of skin with my tongue.
I bite her there as well, long and hard, as I desperately fumble for a zipper. Her devilish dress now serves as a frustrating barrier to her breasts. And fuck, do I want her soft nipple in my mouth.
But Isabella retaliates again. Using the momentum of the wall, she picks up her other leg and entirely straddles my waist, pressing herself into my already hardening cock.
Her short little dress rides up in the process, revealing…
“What the fuck?” I growl as I see her bareness beneath me.
Isabella merely laughs against my neck.
“You weren’t wearing panties?”
She hums. “Is that a problem?”
I shove her back into the wall. “That whole fucking meal?”
Now detached from my neck, Isabella just bites her lip and nods.
“Fuck,” I lunge at her again. “You need to be more careful.”
She merely groans in contentment as her hands claw into my shoulders.
“In a dress like that, anyone could have seen.”
I move so that I only need to hold her with one arm, letting my other hand drift south.
“All I’d need to do is reach over and let my fingers wander up your leg.”
To illustrate my point, I graze over her soaked center with my fingers.
Her breath hitches deliciously.
“And I could have fucked you right there under the table.”
My thumb roams over her clit, drawing out a gasp that I consume with my mouth. I’m desperate to taste her desire, to claim her as my own.
I let my index finger soak in her juices a little longer before pushing into her welcoming warmth.
Only for her hand to reach down and snatch me away.
“No,” she growls, a wildness in her eyes that almost makes me come undone then and there. “I want you.”
She immediately lets go and snatches at my belt, fumbling helplessly with the buckle.
I curse under my breath before going to assist her, freeing myself of the too tight constraints of my pants and boxers.
She squirms impatiently as I line myself up, and I have to capture both her wrists in one hand to stop her from trying to jerk me off.
“Oh, fuck me!” she all but screams when I finally thrust inside of her.
It's an electric kind of death, the way everything short circuits but becomes dazzling bright at the same time.
I never dreamed that fucking Isabella Natali against a bathroom wall would have any kind of effect beyond scratching a sadistic kind of itch.
But this, this.
The feeling of being so wrapped around her, lightning dancing off our skin as I roughly thrust into her over and over again, it’s something else.
It’s in the way my hand squeezes her wrists together, hard enough to bruise. It’s the way my other arm wraps around her back to bring her ever closer, but not close enough.
Even when I take her to the hilt and consume her mouth like a man starved, the feeling doesn’t lessen. It somehow gets worse, knowing that this is the closest I can ever be is still not enough.
I want to crawl inside her skin and draw pleasure out of her in a way no one will ever be able to recover from.
Isabella suddenly growls in frustration, as if feeling it too.
“Harder, fuck me harder.” She latches onto my ear and bites down on the lobe.
I pick up the pace. But this position, this angle…it’s not enough.
With a matching growl of frustration, I lift her clean away from the wall over to the sinks. She whimpers when I drop her, but obeys when I spin her around and lean her over the fancy porcelain.
She spreads her legs eagerly, and I waste no time. One hand gathers in her blonde curls while the other lifts her up just so, and…
“Fuck!” I groan out as I plunge into her again.
It takes me too long to realize there’s a mirror. I am too consumed with the instantly addictive feeling of her tightness against my cock.
But when I do notice it, it’s my instant undoing.
Those cruel, chocolate eyes stare right back at me. Framed by long lashes and smudged makeup, they are unfairly bright when I can see my own are glazed over in some kind of frenzy.
I’m desperate, oh so desperate, to do as she commanded. Harder, harder, harder.
I admire her sick kind of joy as she takes every thrust with a twitch and a gasp, as if there’s nothing I could ever do to truly satisfy her.
It only enrages me further. I want to fuck that look right off her face. I want her to cry out. I want her to lose herself in this. I want to see her eyes glaze over and hear my name on her lips.
The thought alone has me close, too agonizingly close, and I have to squeeze my eyes closed to try and control it. Wait. Just wait. I can ruin her.
I can…
Everything comes to an abrupt and gravity-defying stop the second I feel that cold blade against the artery on my upper thigh.
My eyes snap open, and that sadistic joy on her face has only worsened.
“What’s wrong, lover? I thought you liked a bit of knife play?” she coos back at me.
I see it then, the switchblade grasped in her hand. Where the hell had she even been hiding that?
“ Belle,” I hiss through my teeth.
I’m still fucking inside her. So, so close to the edge, I could just throw myself off it.
But then she’d win, she’d fucking win.
She makes the decision for me, shifting herself away while that blade of hers trails up my body. From my artery to my throbbing cock to my gut to my heart to my neck.
She smiles sweetly, arrogantly, as she stands at her full height before me, casually pulling down her dress as if I hadn’t been maddeningly desperate to remove it only moments before.
“I think this is what they call ‘taking someone for a ride’,” she muses.
I can’t get a hold of myself. My breathing is too rapid and my heartbeat won’t stop pounding. There’s nothing to distract me from my hardness that refuses to abate even when facing danger like this.
Because she’s the one holding the knife.
I shake my head and surge forward, only for the blade to pierce my skin. I freeze automatically.
“Well, doesn’t this just feel like déjà vu,” Isabella sneers, as her eyes drop to my neck.
Before I can stop her, she leans forward and licks up the bead of blood that had begun dripping from the surface wound.
Fuck.
There’s a mischievous glint in her eye as she pulls back, her lips stained a little redder than before.
FUCK.
“This is what’s going to happen, Teo Vitale.” Her voice is sultry sweet as her tongue dips out to lick her lips.
I’m completely and utterly mesmerized.
“You’re going to stop all surveillance on the Natalis. You’re going to stop trying to track down my mother, and you’re going to stay the fuck away from the Prince’s Hand.”
My response of, “ O r what? ” Doesn’t have time to leave my mouth before her teeth are on my bottom lip, pulling it cruelly for a moment until it bleeds.
When she pulls away, I have to spit out blood.
“Do I make myself clear?”
“You think this is over?” I growl right back.
She hums for a moment. “I think you’re an animal, Teo Vitale. And I’d be more than happy to keep you in check if you asked me nicely.”
Her knee lifts up to nudge my throbbing crotch, and I hiss back at her.
“But you come for my family again, and I will kill you,” she whispers.
Her threat hangs between us, balancing us on the edge of her blade. Finally, finally, my head clears enough to form a coherent thought.
“Then do it now,” I whisper back, “because I’m not going to stop. Not until your mother is six feet under, and everything you stole from my family is returned to me.”
I almost gasp in triumph at the tiny flicker of fear in those sultry eyes.
I lean into it, lean into her, making her stagger back a step into the sinks again.
“This was a valiant effort, I’ll give you that,” I continue, “but you will never be able to control me. So you should end it now before I ruin you entirely.”
Yet the blade in her hand doesn’t press against me any harder. In fact, I’m fairly certain I could disarm her right now without earning myself another scratch.
But instead, I wait, wait for the realization to hit her that there’s no escaping this or me. That whatever is coming is already in motion.
“You’re hesitating,” I whisper, daring to dip my head down closer.
Isabella swallows thickly, and I box her in, leaning a hand against the counter behind her.
“What is it, belle? Do you want me to ruin you?”
Just when I think she’s about to let out a small whimper, something else happens entirely.
The pain is instant and the yell escapes my lips just as dizzying darkness threatens to take over my vision entirely.
For a second, I’m not entirely sure what I’m looking at. Then my vision clears, and the pain hits all over again.
And there’s a switchblade pinning my hand to the sink counter.
And by the time I yank it out, Isabella has vanished.