21. Shatter the Line
CHAPTER 21
SHATTER THE LINE
R affaele
“Put me down!” Isabella continues to pound at my back as we finally cross the threshold of the miniature hotel room.
“Gladly,” I mutter and toss her onto the bed. She lands on all fours, her face crashing indelicately onto the pillow. After I’d been forced to call Sal to pick us up from the restaurant, I’d had to physically restrain her from running when we reached the pensione .
“I just want to see the Colosseo at night!” she whines as she glares up at me from over her shoulder. She’s still on all fours, tight jeans wrapped around a perky ass that’s just begging to be spanked.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I draw in a deep breath to slow the mad thundering of my pulse. Once the storm subsides, I open them again and my gaze latches onto a hair tie she’s left on the nightstand. Dragging it over my hand, it just fits my wrist. I snap it, the slight pang like a bee sting. Perfect . Hopefully, it’ll be my answer to these damned inappropriate urges.
“We’re going to be here for three months,” I grind out. “We’ll have plenty of time once I scope it out first.”
“Ugh,” she grumbles and rolls onto her back. Her fingers dig through a small pocket in her jeans, drawing my attention to a faint bulge.
“What’s that?” I bark.
“Nothing.” She slaps her hand over the spot.
“Isabella…” I stalk closer so that my legs brush hers which are dangling from the mattress. She crab-crawls backwards until she hits the headboard, and I follow her like a fucking idiot, crawling up the mattress until I loom over her.
Now pinning her to the bed and with those blazing blue irises peering up at me, the rage simmers, and I realize my monumental mistake. My cock is heavy, straining against my zipper as I brace myself over her. Isabella’s pupils widen, her mouth curving into a tempting O as if she too has suddenly realized the compromising situation we’ve found ourselves in.
I attempt to push off, but her leg curls around my hip. “Stay,” she whispers, the scent of limoncello swirling between us, and my heart halts mid-beat.
The word no is perched on my tongue, but for some goddamned reason I can’t seem to set it free. I snap the elastic band around my wrist again.
“Isabella, I?—”
Her gaze drops between the measly inches of space between our bodies and her hooded lids rise, along with the corners of her lips. Fuck. “Don’t tell me you don’t want this, Raf. I can see you do…”
I clear my throat, every muscle tense as I hover over her, fighting the urge to capture her lips and throw all my rules out the window. “It’s a physical reaction, principessa , nothing more.” I grit the words out, even as I feel the bitter lie in them.
Her head falls back on a cackle, and I stiffen over her. Once the laughter has finally died away, her eyes lock to mine once more. “So why can’t this just be physical? I can barely tolerate you, and you’ve made your feelings about me clear. Just one night? To dispel the tension…” Her hand crawls up my torso, tracing the trail of abs then settles on my chest.
I’m so damned hard now I’m going to bust the zipper of my jeans.
Her free hand moves south, fingers dancing along my waistband so that her flesh touches mine.
Madonna, mia , I deserve to go straight to heaven for this. I snatch her hand away and pin it to the mattress. “No, we can’t.” The rough edge to my tone calls me out for the liar I am.
“Why?”
“There are countless reasons, principessa , but mostly right now because you’re drunk,” I growl, pissed at myself for getting into this situation.
“I am not.” She rolls her eyes so hard only the whites show.
I release her hand then grab her ankle in an attempt to pry her leg off my hip. Her hold only tightens, and I’m impressed by her strength. And also, even more turned on. “Let go of me, Isabella. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She laughs again. “I’d like to see you try.”
Now, it’s my turn to chuckle. “If I wanted to, I’d have you incapacitated before you could blink.”
“Wanna bet?” Amusement sparks across the brilliant blue of her irises. “How about this, if you can incapacitate me in under a minute, I’ll never mention this again.” She signals between us. “But if you can’t, I get what I want.”
“Which is what exactly?” My brow arches unbidden because this girl is just full of surprises.
Her shoulders lift, a faint crimson hue blossoming across her cheeks. “A much-needed release.”
Cazzo , do I need that too.
Clenching my jaw, I consider the madness of this request. On the one hand, there’s no way I don’t win in this scenario. Maybe it will earn me some goodwill if I agree, and she’ll be more amenable going forward. “Fine, you’ve got yourself a deal, principessa .”
Placing my free hand between us as I continue to brace myself only inches over her, I motion to my watch. “Set the timer for sixty seconds.”
She nimbly finds the app and hovers her finger over the start button. “Ready?”
“Always.”
Her leg tightens around my hip, drawing me nearly flush against her. My cock rubs against her center, and I barely restrain a groan. Damn it. If only my hand wasn’t occupied holding myself up, I’d snap that hair tie around my wrist again to control my maddening urges. Nothing like some negative reinforcement to rid myself of this highly inappropriate behavior.
She presses the button, and her other leg curls around my waist, then her ankles lock around me. Again, I’m surprised by the strength in her thighs, so much that I freeze for an instant. Then my entire body locks up when her hips rock up, rubbing against my cock.
“Hey!” I bark, “that’s not fair.”
“No one said anything about fair.” She rocks harder, and fire surges at the tormenting friction lighting a blaze between us. “My Krav Maga sensei always told me there are no rules when it comes to escaping an attacker.”
I lose precious seconds with this argument when I should be focusing on peeling her body from mine. Instead, my stupid thoughts are focused on finding a way to slip her pants off so I can bury my throbbing dick inside her.
“Stop that!” I hiss, and her stunned eyes meet mine. “I can’t focus.”
“What? The perfectionist bodyguard Raffaele Ferrara can’t handle a little challenge?”
“This is cheating.” I’ve never had to overcome lust and my traitorous cock when battling an assailant.
“Tick tock…” She eyes my watch as the timer counts down.
Merda , I cannot lose. Throwing my body to the right, I attempt to wrench myself free but she rolls with me, and we tumble right off the mattress. I hit the floor with a grunt, the tiny sliver of space between the bed and the wall barely wide enough for my shoulders.
Isabella straightens, straddling me triumphantly as the seconds continue to wind down. My hands clamp around her thighs, desperate to remove her as my cock strains against my jeans, shouting for her attention. I’m a second from prying her free when she starts to rock against me again, the tantalizing motion of her hips shooting fire from my dick, down my legs to the tips of my toes.
Cazzo , what is it about this woman?
I can barely stand her most of the time, but a few seconds of over-the-clothes action, and I’m like a horny teenager.
“Isabella…” It’s meant to be a warning, but it comes out as a desperate, needy plea.
She rubs against me again, and a faint moan parts her lips.
Fuck …
Just like that, every last ounce of restraint dribbles away, and I want her to win. So I just lay there like a stronzo while she rubs herself against me, and the final seconds count down.
When the shrill sound of the timer goes off, her hips halt their devastating circles and a shit-eating smile parts her lips.
“Told ya.”
“Yeah, I’m the one that lost,” I deadpan. I sit up, bracing myself on my palms. The new angle only drives my cock more firmly against her center and another breathy little sigh escapes. My guess, she’s already halfway to an orgasm and embarrassingly, so am I.
Slowly, I lift my gaze to meet hers. “You won. Now what, principessa ?”
The cocky grin falters as if the haze of alcohol has started to recede. She digs her fingers into her pocket and reveals a tiny bottle of limoncello.
Where the hell did she get that?
She pops the cork and downs the liqueur confirming my suspicions that her buzz was starting to wear away. After she swallows, she licks her lips and my damned cock twitches between her legs. “Just so that we’re clear, this doesn’t mean anything.” She signals between us once more. “Since you won’t let me leave the hotel room and we’re stuck here together, I just figured we could have a little fun. It doesn’t change the fact that you drive me crazy, and I can barely stand you.”
“Damn, you really know how to turn a man on, principessa .” A smug grin curls my lips. “And just so we’re clear, you may have won the bet, but I will not be fucking you tonight.” As badly as I want to…
Her victorious smile wanes, her slim shoulders slightly rounding. “But?—”
I press my finger to her mouth because I already know where she’s going with this. That pouty lip is a telltale sign. “I’m a man of my word, and I will give you the release you desire but fucking you, however pleasurable that may be for both of us, would go against every single one of my carefully thought-out rules.”
“That’s part of the reason I want to do it.” A wicked grin slashes across her rosy cheeks.
“I’m not surprised.”
“Then how is this going to work?”
“Simple, principessa . I’ll guide you through it. I’ll tell you where to position your fingers and exactly what to do with them.” That rough edge is back in my tone as I imagine those dainty fingers sinking into her soaked pussy. I’m well aware this is such a tiny loophole in my rules, it’s practically non-existent. Driving her to orgasm whether I do it with my fingers, my tongue or my cock is going to shatter the fine line I’ve desperately sought to create between us. I’m fucked, and I’m fully aware of it.
Lust flares in her eyes, and she reaches for the top button of her jeans.