Chapter 7 #3
He kissed the scar once more and then resumed his sensual exploration of her body.
“I want to take you like this,” he murmured, easing his weight from her just enough to guide her onto her knees. Kate was putty in his hands; he could have modelled her into any shape and she would have complied. Her trust in him was complete.
She heard him unbuckle his jeans and smiled.
“I want you to, too.”
He pushed his pants off impatiently, sliding protection on to his arousal with a sense of desperation.
She stayed where she was, propped on her knees and elbows, her body perfectly poised to take him. It was too much; something grated across his chest, flexing in his heart.
He ignored it. This wasn’t about feeling anything but pleasure. And pleasure, with Kate, was guaranteed.
His fingers were firm on her hips as he held her still, and his erection, as he plunged into her, was hard as steel.
She made a groaning sound of completion as he thrust into her again, his hands reaching around to cup her breasts as again and again he took her, sending shockwaves of delight spasming through her.
His body taunted hers, bringing her to the precipice of orgasm before slowing down again, building the waves bigger and bigger until she couldn’t bear it. “Benedetto,” she flattened her face into her pillow, her moans increasing in intensity until she could barely breathe.
And this time, he pressed into her and held her tight as she came crashing back to earth; her body shook with the force of the sensation and he held her and caressed her, all the while he moved gently in time with her pleasure.
“It’s too much,” she whispered, the words strangely haunted.
Love was an ache in her chest, and Kate had never known love. Not really in any form. She felt vulnerable and powerful, all at the same time.
Her smile was slow-spreading. How could it get better each time they slept together?
“You are mine,” he said simply, pulling out of her. “Turn over.”
He was demanding and commanding, and she loved him all the more for it. She did as he said, dropping to the bed and rolling to her back. His hands captured her wrists and pinned them above her head; now he thrust into her again and his eyes held hers.
Kate let hers fan shut, to allow the renewed pleasure to engulf her, but Benedetto stopped moving. “Look at me,” he murmured. “I want you to keep your eyes on me.”
She swallowed, but blinked up at him.
“Why?”
An excellent question. For looking into her eyes, Benedetto knew how sick his need for vengeance truly was.
He thrust into her, and stared at Kate, but he only had to look at those eyes to feel satisfaction at the man he was hurting.
Each and every time he possessed her, each time her body yielded to his, was another fleck of insult to the man who’d killed his father.
“Your eyes are why I feel this,” he said simply, and with complete truth.
Kate bit down on her lip. It didn’t completely make sense, but then, perhaps something was lost from Italian to English. Maybe he’d meant something else? She didn’t really care. Not when everything felt so good. The whole world seemed brighter and more sharply focused.
He pumped into her, and when they began to explode simultaneously, he cried out into the air. He had never known a satisfaction like it, for in exploring this intense pleasure, he was finally carrying out his act of revenge, and Benedetto relished that.
As her breath returned to normal and her eyes still hung on his, he lowered his face, so that their lips were only an inch apart.
“You will come home with me tonight.”
Her nod was slow. It was the right decision, and yet it filled her with fear. She knew with a degree of absolute certainty that she would come to regret it.
She just didn’t know how soon.
* * *
Augustine was getting old, but adrenalin made him feel youthful and alive. He jammed his phone into his pocket with a sense of fury that he was finding increasingly difficult to curb. The closer he got to his bitch of a daughter, the more it became a ground swell, threatening to engulf him.
So she’d fallen into bed – literally – with Arnaud. Did she know that he was using her?
Was his own daughter trying to hurt him, too?
He wouldn’t put it past her. And after all he’d done for her. Raising her on his own, paying a fortune for her education, giving her every advantage in life.
He’d known she would turn out like this, and he’d done his best to curb the worst in her. But she had proven unbreakable.
His fist clenched involuntarily by his side.
He had looked for her for a long time. He had searched and he had waited, certain that one day she would stumble and he would find her.
How she had evaded him he could not have said.
But she would not evade him for much longer.
The doors to the airport swished open automatically as he approached and he scanned the row of uniformed drivers waiting to meet their human cargo.
His own name was emblazoned on a board. He moved towards it with purpose.
The waiting was about to come to an end.