7. Lyla
7
LYLA
H e thinks I don’t see him, but it’s hard to miss a six-foot-two Italian man sulking at the edge of the garden. I ignore him and continue chatting with Martin, exaggerating my laugh when the old groundskeeper shares a joke. Marco’s gaze narrows and his muscles bunch beneath his shirt, but he hasn’t moved from that spot for over twenty minutes.
Martin is harmless, and it amuses me to see Marco jealous over the fact that I’m talking to another man. When he finally strides toward us, the poor groundskeeper’s eyes go wide and he gathers his pruning tools before returning to work. Marco scowls at the old man, who scurries to the shed at the back of the property. Then, as he turns his attention to me, his shoulders relax and the corner of his mouth curls up.
“This must be your favorite place. You come out here often.” Marco shoves his hands into his pockets, his appearance more casual than I’ve seen before.
“Why wouldn’t I? It’s beautiful, and I rarely get to see anything like this in the city.” I graze my fingertips over the petals of a bright-pink bloom before raising an eyebrow. “Besides, why have such pretty things if you aren’t going to enjoy them?”
Marco makes a noncommittal noise, then follows me as I explore the lush greenery.
I stroll along the stone pathway, sensing his gaze on my ass. So I add an extra sway to my hips, grateful I chose this pale-blue sundress that accentuates my curvy figure. Occasionally, I glance back at him, admiring his strong features and sculpted physique. Yet he never takes his eyes off me and ignores the colorful beauty of our surroundings.
Marco remains two steps behind me, a stark contrast to the other interactions we’ve had since meeting. The stifling tension in the space between us creates an awkwardness I don’t know how to breach. Any other time, he exudes an air of authority; yet today he’s quiet and observant, and I find it unsettling.
Does he regret the things he said? Regret what we did? I don’t, but maybe I didn’t make that clear enough last night.
Pushing those thoughts away, I lean forward, pulling a rosebud to my nose and humming at its sweet scent. I savor the pleasant fragrance until Marco’s smooth voice has my eyelids fluttering open.
“There’s somewhere I want to take you.”
I turn my head, meeting his gaze while my mouth twists to the side. “You mean… I can leave?”
He huffs with a smirk. “No, we’re going to leave. I’m taking you to a gala for an associate of mine.”
I tilt my head and wait.
“Consider it a peace offering. Besides, you’ll be well-guarded all evening.” He’s making up for last night, still remorseful over our encounter.
“Do I need to be protected, or are you still worried I’m going to escape?” There’s a hint of annoyance in my tone, but the longer I’m here, the more I want to stay and forget about the life I had before.
I work a shitty job that hardly pays minimum wage after tips. I doubt they’ve even noticed I haven’t shown up for my shifts the last few days. The apartment I share with my drunk of a father is rundown and in a bad neighborhood, a far cry from this lavish mansion that comes with its own staff. And speaking of my father, who knows where he is? He got himself into trouble and then dragged me down with him. Although, being abducted by a treacherous criminal has proven to be nothing like I expected.
Marco crowds my space until I’m backed against the garden wall, my mouth going dry. His possessive tone quickens my pulse, and arousal stirs in my belly. “You can try to escape me, Lyla, but there’s nowhere you can go that I won’t find you. And trust me, I will find you.”
I can hear my own heartbeat as a tremor runs through my body. I try to maintain my composure, but his words affect me.
“Your protection is a priority. As long as you’re with me, no one will harm you.”
My lungs are heavy and struggle to fill with air while my gaze drifts to his mouth, wishing he would kiss me. He leans in a half inch more, and my heart skips a beat as I crane my neck and lift my chin. His stare is so intense I might spontaneously combust, my clenched thighs doing nothing to stave off the sudden rush of desire washing over me. Then I almost fall forward when he takes a step back, and I inhale a short gasp.
There’s a sparkle of mischief in his dark eyes, but I like seeing this version of him. “I’ll have some people come out to help you get ready for the party tonight.”
I lean back with a lift of my eyebrows. “Tonight? I won’t… There isn’t…” I sputter the words while estimating the time in my head.
“Don’t worry, Princess.”
My body relaxes when he uses the endearment I’ve unexpectedly grown to like.
“Be downstairs by seven o’clock.” Then, he turns on his heel and struts toward the house while an excited grin spreads across my face.
Cinderella is going to a ball .
The overwhelming number of dresses strewn across my bedroom leaves me anxious and indecisive. The stylist knows what she’s doing, so I trust her when she pulls out a stunning, champagne-colored gown that fits my curves perfectly. After choosing lingerie and being pampered for hours, I feel like a princess for the first time in my life.
My thoughts are consumed by Marco as he walks in while I’m getting dressed. “Everyone out. Now.”
There’s a rebuttal on the stylist’s lips until Marco shoots her a venomous glare. She ducks her head and ushers her assistants out of the room, closing the door behind them.
I’m exposed, standing in scraps of lace just big enough to hide my most intimate parts. I glance around, looking for something to cover up with, but there’s not enough time as Marco closes the distance between us and kneels in front of me. My belly quivers when his gaze focuses on my barely-covered pussy before trailing up my body until he’s staring at my chest. He tugs the sheer cups of my bra down until my full breasts spill out, my nipples tightening from the cool air.
No words are exchanged as his hands grip my body possessively, and wetness pools between my thighs. Standing this close to him, I’m embarrassed that he can smell my arousal building, but my shyness disappears when he pulls my panties aside and devours me with his tongue. I grip his hair as he brings me to the brink, spreading my lips apart with one hand while delving inside me with the other. My knees are unsteady, but I can’t get enough of him.
My head drops back when he brings one of my legs over his broad shoulder, giving himself better access to my pussy. He flicks his tongue across my clit while he caresses my ass with his palm. Then he grazes the seam between my cheeks until he reaches that forbidden spot that makes my entire body tense.
“Marco… I don’t…”
Lifting his head, he gazes at me with my wetness smeared across his mouth. “Trust me, Lyla. You’ll like it.”
Do I trust him? To bring me pleasure, absolutely. To not crush my heart and bring me unimaginable pain, that’s still to be determined.
“Relax for me,” he says, massaging the puckered hole before breaching the tight ring of muscle. It’s uncomfortable at first, but I melt into his touch when he resumes eating my pussy again while thrusting his tongue into my entrance. I’m overwhelmed as he sinks his finger farther inside my ass, pumping it in and out before adding another.
“Oh my God,” I cry out. “I… it feels…” I can’t form a coherent thought as his tongue and fingers fuck both my holes.
“Soon, I’m going to fuck you here. Claim every part of your body as mine.” He dives back in with his mouth on my pussy, his fingers now gliding easily in and out of my ass.
It’s not long before I’m teetering on the edge of an orgasm, feeling it build in my core until I’m ready to explode. He moves his hand faster, sucking harder on my clit and grazing it with his teeth. Then I buck my hips and cry out, surrendering to the immense pleasure.
“Marco…” I pant, my body quivering as I flood his mouth with my cum. He slows his movements, but doesn’t stop until he’s enjoyed the last drop. I should be satisfied with such an intense release, but it’s made me crave more.
When he lifts my leg from his shoulder and returns my foot to the floor, I’m expecting him to move us to the bed and fill me with the cock I’ve been dying for all day. Instead, he rises from his crouched position and grabs my silk robe that’s draped over a chair. He secures it around me while a pinched expression covers my face, and my core clenches around nothing.
“I know what you want, Lyla.” He watches his hands while tying my sash into a loopy bow. “I’ll give it to you when you beg me for it.”
My jaw drops as insolence grows inside me. I’m desperate to be with him again, but I shouldn’t have to beg for it. Not when he wants me too. “You can’t be serious.”
His gaze lifts to my face as he smirks. “I’m always serious, Princess.”
My shoulders slump and my mouth gapes open as he strolls out of the room and the women come back in. So, he gets me off and gets out? What was the point of that? I’m ready to scream at this confusing man, but I hold back my frustration and continue getting ready. Although a fresh pair of panties is in order now, so I walk into the closet to retrieve them after discreetly slipping my breasts back into the cups of my bra.
Right on time, I’m ready as requested, standing near the front door in my beautiful dress with strappy heels on my pedicured feet. When Marco comes downstairs, his eyes are smoldering as he takes me in from head to foot. A blush warms my cheeks under his observant gaze, but coyness turns to lust as I admire how sexy this man is in a black tux. No one has any right to be that gorgeous.
“You’re exquisite.” The words sound foreign as I rarely receive compliments from anyone. He stands in front of me, his eyes wandering over my made-up face before he cups my cheek and runs his thumb along my bottom lip. “Every man in the room will envy me tonight.”
Despite Marco’s flattering appraisal, which continues in the car, I’m nervous when we arrive at the private estate for the party. This one is closer to the city, a Victorian-style mansion with a gable roof and large windows. Inside, there are vaulted ceilings with dark wooden beams. Though not as extravagant as Marco’s, it’s a breathtaking home, and I’m mesmerized by the luxury of it as we make our way to a large ballroom full of people dressed in formal gowns and tuxedos. Waiters in black suits mill around with silver trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres, and there’s a string quartet playing music on a small stage off to the side.
On the arm of such a powerful man, I walk into the room with my head held high and my shoulders back, receiving appreciative looks from several men. That is, until they see who’s escorting me and avert their gazes. Fear or respect, I’m not sure which makes them turn away. The women, however, do no such thing, and their ravenous eyes lock on Marco as they pretend as if I’m invisible.
I forget that everyone else in the room exists when he guides me to the dance floor, his intense gaze never leaving mine. I place my hand in his, but nervously lean into him. “I don’t know how to dance. I’ve never done this before.” I worry that I’ll embarrass us both by tripping over my feet or stepping on his toes.
“Keep your eyes on me and follow my lead. Your body will know what to do.” The heat in his gaze says he’s talking about more than just dancing, but I can’t deny it applies to both scenarios.
Every touch from him sends tingles down my spine, and heat builds between us as we dance. After a few songs, Marco grabs two flutes of champagne, then introduces me to several people he knows. His actions are conflicting, or perhaps they’re changing as he treated me more like property just a few days ago. Now, there’s a glint of pride in his eyes when he presents me to his friends, making it clear that I’m his and he wants the world to know it.
So many faces become a blur while my cheeks ache from smiling when Marco leans in close and whispers in my ear, “Dance with me again.” He raises our joined hands and leads me out onto the floor.
His fingers graze the top of my ass, causing my nipples to harden into stiff peaks. His warmth, his closeness, and the scent of his masculine cologne fuel the ache inside me while I struggle to remain demure and composed. I wish for more after he made me come with his mouth, but didn’t fuck me again like I’d hoped.
I try to steer my thoughts in a different direction and make light conversation. “You seem to know so many people. Are they all associates of yours?”
“In this life, I make sure to know anyone who could pose a potential threat or liability,” he replies. Then he mutters something I almost don’t hear. “Unfortunately, your father has proven to be the latter.”
My heart drops, and I realize that I’d almost forgotten about his situation. He’s never been good to me, not after Mom died. And for a while, I made excuses for his behavior. I understand alcoholism and a gambling addiction are illnesses, but not once did he attempt treatment. In fact, he told me he didn’t need to change or get better. That I was the problem, and if I didn’t like it, I could leave. That’s just what I was planning to do the night Marco saved me.
Not saved. Kidnapped. Marco kidnapped me. Right?
As we glide across the dance floor with a misstep or two here and there, I think more on what Marco told me the night he barged into my cramped apartment. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to. I know my father and the kind of man he is. I just didn’t want to admit it because it hurts. I’m done with all that, and I’m done with him. He stopped loving me years ago and I’m better off without him.
I lean back and hold Marco’s gaze. “My father. He offered me to you. To erase his debts?” I thought I’d feel betrayed or angry, but I feel nothing because I’m not surprised.
Marco’s tone is icy when he replies, “I’d never have taken him up on it. Fucking bastard has the most beautiful daughter in the world, yet he’s ready to give her away to a monster. A man like that didn’t deserve to live.” Disgust mars his handsome face.
Awareness dawns on me, and I freeze. “You killed him, didn’t you?” There’s no sadness or resentment or fury in my tone. I simply want confirmation of what I know is true.
The music fades away as we stand frozen on the parquet floor, still pressed together with our hands joined and his palm on my lower back. “He was dead the moment he considered giving you away.” Marco’s intense gaze holds me captive as he leads us in a slow dance, the enchanting music flowing around us.
Nothing else is said as I surrender to the man who holds my life and my body in his powerful hands. Yet, in his embrace, I no longer feel alone. I feel alive, awakened by a beast who captured me and took me back to his castle. Showed me pleasures I never thought possible.
I relax in his arms, resting my head on his shoulder as he holds me tighter. Marco may have killed my father, but I know it was to save me. To protect me from the man who was supposed to love and support me. And he’d do it again if I needed him to. He’d keep me safe from anyone who dared to bring me harm.