Chapter 22
C ALLUM
Two weeks later
Once in a while, a man meets a woman like her.
A woman so addictive that he can’t imagine his life without her.
A woman so interesting that everything else fades into the background.
A woman so hot that he can't leave her, lying naked on the bed in the morning, still smelling like him, without coming back to her.
Again and again.
That man has been me these past two weeks.
I was hoping to build trust with her.
I checked that off the list.
I was hoping to use every moment that I had to give her pleasure.
I checked that off the list.
I was hoping to make her enjoy sex as much as I did.
We checked that off the list.
She is addicted to having sex with me. As I am addicted to having sex with her.
As weird as this sounds, she’s grown into a different person over these two weeks.
She now knows how to read my eyes and give me what I want. When to come forward. When to retreat. When to play. When to be serious.
And I’ve learned a lot about her.
I know when she’s sad, contemplative for a reason, in the mood to play, ecstatic, and what she needs when she needs it.
Sometimes she needs my arms around her. Other times, she needs me buried deep inside her.
Sometimes, she lures me to the bedroom because she wants my mouth between her legs.
Other times, she beckons me to her, taking me away from the crew outside, so she can rub my erection through my pants, unzip my fly, and take me into her mouth in some dark corner of the house.
She likes giving head.
And then she likes leaving me with my pants undone, traces of cum on her lips, my dick still throbbing as I watch her walk away with her dress stained.
What I like the most is to rip off her clothes when no one is around and fuck her anywhere I want around the property.
She knows me well, now, and likes to tease me, putting on a good fight, running away from me, anything to prolong this delicious chase.
And then I like to see her sleep next to me.
Head bowed down, face reflecting perfect peace, her hair splayed over the pillow.
It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
The most precious one.
Because I've ruined so many of her clothes, we usually buy doubles, and the ones she wants to show me now are no exception.
These two weeks have been quiet, otherwise.
All the information I have gathered from my sources has solidified my belief that my enemies are preparing for war, as they should.
We traveled to town a few times to shop and eat out.
We checked a few luxury boutiques to pick the perfect dress for Lani for tomorrow evening.
The party in Taormina.
Everybody will be there, so we need to review every detail with great care.
We can’t leave anything to chance.
I also had to make plans for enhanced security. There will be three lines of defense. The people who travel with us, the ones on the outskirts of Taormina. And the ones at the compound.
There’s no room for errors.
Varela is a sneaky bastard, and sadly, Giorgio Gallo is just like him.
“How do I look?”
I relax in my chair and shift my focus as Lani enters the bedroom wearing one of the gowns we bought this afternoon.
It’s a white dress with a golden butterfly print, a strapless top, and a flowing, floor-length skirt.
It emphasizes her tan and looks great on her, but it’s not what I’m looking for.
“It’s all right. Let’s see the next one.”
Flashing a smile, she twirls around and vanishes in the walk-in closet.
I remove my suit jacket and drop it on an antique bench not far from me before I slide back into my seat.
“What about this?”
She steps in, wearing heels and a black sequined dress with an asymmetrical neckline that follows the contour of her body.
It’s sexy and alluring. It might be what we need, but I'd like to see the last one as well.
It seemed to be the best when she tried it on this afternoon.
“Let’s see the red one.”
She gives me a small wave before she turns to me and walks out of the room like a queen.
I’ll love this woman till the day I die, which won’t happen anytime soon.
From a wall table nearby, I pick up a glass of wine and take a sip. I put it back before she walks in, wearing the piece that I love the most.
Maybe red is her color.
Or maybe the way the fabric molds to her body, highlighting her shape, her hips, her legs, is like nothing else.
I don’t know what it is about this dress, but her smile is different, the way she looks at me is different, the way her hair frames her face is different.
She’s a completely different woman, and that’s the woman that I want to walk with tomorrow night.
I want their jaws to drop.
I want them to see and understand what a treasure Leilani Gallo is.
I want her to distract them, so I can close the deal.
“Twirl for me,” I say, trying not to get hard, which never works when I’m with her.
She spins for me, displaying every bit of sartorial ingenuity put into her dress and every teasing curve of her body.
Her boobs and hips seem bigger in her dress, while her waist seems smaller. My mouth waters and my hard-on throbs as I think of ways of ravishing her.
She lifts an eyebrow at me, taunting me with a smile, and that’s as much as I can take.
“Come to me,” I say, tapping my thigh, inviting her to sit.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m damn sure. Come,” I say, unable to conceal my impatience.
She walks to me, wearing that beautiful grin.
She knows me well by now.
She knows how quickly she can stir me up, how impossible it is to stifle my need for her, and how I want to own every inch of her body and every bit of her soul.
She lowers herself on my thigh, graciously, with confidence.
That is the other thing that’s happened since she moved in with me.
She’s no longer the crazed girl she used to be.
She’s more settled. More secure.
She no longer gets spooked and rides that maddening carousel of emotions as she used to.
She drapes an arm around my neck while I run my hand up, trailing her leg.
She wears satin panties underneath, and I run my thumb along her slit, stroking her clit through the fabric.
Her eyes sparkle as I keep doing it.
Love, arousal, lust.
All three.
“Let’s do it,” I say, nudging her to rise.
I leave my chair, take her hand, and invite her to lie on the bed.
“No way,” she says, laughing when I remove my vest and shoes and undo my shirt and buckle.
She leans back, props herself up on her elbows, and pushes a knee up while her dress slides to the side, revealing her other leg as well.
I move the layers of fabric to the side to take a peek at her panties again before I lie next to her and slide my fingers inside them.
Her smile is quickly replaced by a look of intense pleasure.
“Oh, damn it,” she murmurs, her eyes getting heavy.
One of her shoes falls to the floor, followed swiftly by the other before I push the waistband of her panties down a little and stroke her clit.
She half-leans on me, looking at me with burning eyes.
“You’ll ruin this dress,” she says, quietly, smiling.
“That’s the whole idea,” I reply, watching her blush and lowering her eyelids.
Biting her lip as she experiences pleasure.
Transformed, she comes to me and starts kissing me, deliriously swept away in a trance, and I let her, enjoying every moment of this.
It might be our last night.
It might be our last chance to taste this.
It might be our last goodbye before we meet again in eternity.
It might also be the beginning of a life of freedom.
It will be what it’s supposed to be.
But tonight is still our night.
So I let her show me how much she needs me.
How much she loves me.
How much I mean to her.
I need it all so I can face the madness awaiting me and, more importantly, avoid errors.
I need to win this fight as much as I need her in my life.
It’s important to both of us and all the people who depend on us.
She moves her mouth down my chest before trailing my abdomen and slowly undoing my pants so she can take me into her mouth.
She teases my body and plays with my heart while I watch her bob her head, her face covered by her hair.
When I get hard as wood, and glisten, throbbing in her mouth, she sheathes even more of me, and moves her fist down and up, firmly, how I like it, until she pushes me to the edge.
Still massaging my hardness, she looks at me, her cheeks red, her eyes drunk, her smile taunting, a hand reaching to her back to unzip her dress.
That’s when I push upright, grab the sides of her dress and rip it open, freeing her boobs.
She falls to her back, grinning, while I hover over her, biting her tits, and stroking her pussy, pushing her panties down all the way, so I can lodge myself between her legs.
I do it all at once, and just as fast, her nails sink into my shoulders, and her eyes roll in her head as she arches her spine and takes my pummeling, already coming.
A pool of wetness forms between her legs, and I keep pounding into her, feeding on my high while enjoying her clenching around me, her face at peace, the happiness in her eyes, knowing that tomorrow will be a completely different day.