8. A Dangerous Man #2
“What are you doing here?” I whispered, even though there was no one else on the balcony to overhear our conversation. Just being near him made me feel as though I were committing a crime.
“Not happy to see me?” His deep, seductive drawl was so teasing that I turned to look at him.
Damn, that voice. I was a little terrified of the effect it had on me.
I opened my mouth to reply, but I wasn’t sure how.
Was I pleased to see him? I mean, I hadn’t stopped thinking about him for two days, but he was a masseur who gave women happy endings. He wasn’t someone I should see again.
“I’m just…surprised,” I replied. “This is my work event, and you are the last person I expected to see here.”
“And she insults me again,” he said, pushing off from the wall. My stomach flipped as he stepped closer, and I turned around to perch my bum on the stone, placing my bag on the ledge. He stopped before me, towering over me even in my heels.
“I didn’t mean that you wouldn’t be invited because—” I frowned. “Wait. When did I insult you before?”
He dragged his tongue across his lower lip as he stared at mine, and heat flooded through me again, taking the chill out of the air.
“Fifty euros?” He raised a dark eyebrow with that playful charm that made my lips curve. “Three orgasms, a challenge completed, and you left without a goodbye, with just fifty euros on the bed? You hurt my feelings, beautiful, and left me questioning my market value.”
I pressed my lips together to stop myself from laughing. The mischievous glint in his eyes told me he wasn’t really annoyed but was teasing me. So I decided to give it back, only to fall into the trap of flirtatious banter with an unattainable, sexy man.
“I thought I was being reasonably generous. What do you think would’ve been a more appropriate tip for all your effort?”
His gaze darkened as he stepped closer, placing his hands on either side of mine on the wall and leaning in so our faces were only inches apart. His musky, rich aftershave smelled like delicious sin and damnation. My head swam with dizzying desire as he stared into my eyes.
“Your real name would have been a good start. And then you’d agree to go on a date with me,” he husked, the ghost of his breath teasing against my lips.
I swallowed, trying to keep my breathing under control as I held his gaze. “Doesn’t that go against client confidentiality?”
“You’re not my client.”
I frowned, my heart hammering as his gaze dropped to my lips again.
“In fact, you weren’t even a guest at my hotel, Aria.”
Shit. He knew. How? Is that why the hotel owner wanted to see me in person to return my necklace? Was I in trouble?
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie. My friend was staying in—” My words halted the moment a flash of gold around his neck caught my eye. He smiled when he saw me staring.
“Tell me, did you leave it behind on purpose, Bella Ribelle?”
Needing to be sure, I lifted my hand to pull apart the top of his shirt, and there it was. My mother’s pretty locket hung around his neck against his tanned skin and dark ink.
“You’ve been wearing it?” My eyes flicked up to his.
“Safest place it could be was on me.”
“But when I went to the hotel this morning, they said the hotel owner had it.”
“He did. He hasn’t taken it off his neck since you mistook him for a masseur and asked him to taste your exquisite pussy.”
The horror hit slowly. Pure mortification made my stomach drop as I stared at him, blinking, waiting for my brain to catch up.
“You’re the hotel owner? But—” My breath caught.
“You aren’t Cesare? You’re not even a masseur?
Why didn’t you say anything?” Each word came out higher and faster than the last as heat climbed my neck.
And he had the audacity just to stand there, looking perfectly calm, perfectly amused, with that damn smirk tugging at his mouth.
“Because I wanted to give you what you needed,” he replied with zero shame or apology.
He pressed his body against mine, trapping me against the wall and the plummeting drop to the city below.
I drew a sharp breath when his thigh slid between mine.
“I want to be the only man to give you what you need.”
“So you lied? You let me believe you were someone you weren’t?” I argued, my eyes narrowing as I fought to ignore the pressure of his leg against my throbbing pussy and focused on the disbelief. “That’s so—”
“Hypocritical?” He smirked, shifted his leg again so it rubbed against me, and I gasped. “Just like you lied and pretended to be someone you weren’t, Vivian. I guess that makes us even.”
“Not even close,” I breathed, hating the way my body arched into his, wanting more of the little pleasure he was providing so effortlessly. I wanted to be mad, but my body was making it damn hard. “Give me back my necklace.”
“Take it,” he husked, brushing the tip of his nose against mine.
A second passed, then another, as I tried to decide if this was another trick or if he was truly going to make it that easy.
I reached up for the necklace, my fingers brushing his skin as I traced the chain to the nape of his neck.
He groaned, his eyes blazing as they stared into mine, and I clumsily fiddled with the clasp, taking too long to undo it.
His lips parted, and my gaze fell to them, sitting perfectly among the dark stubble that decorated his tanned skin.
When I finally unclipped it, he grabbed my hips and twisted me around sharply, pulling me back against his chest. His hands slid over mine to take the necklace from me as I stared out across the city.
“Let me,” he husked, sweeping my hair to one side with his hand before placing the locket around my neck. He clasped it on his first attempt and then gently slid his fingers down the length of my exposed arms until they gripped my hips again.
“Who are you, beautiful? You look and feel like a dream I shouldn’t dare have,” he whispered against the shell of my ear, and my lashes fluttered, my chest rising and falling a little faster at his words. “Luckily, I built my life on daring.”
His lips brushed their way down my throat, dipping his head to my collarbone and causing an eruption of goosebumps as his warm breath skimmed along my skin.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, Aria. Your eyes. Your smile. Your voice. The way you moaned for me. The way you tasted. My hands have traced every curve of your body, and it’s still not enough. I need more.”
My head fell back against his shoulder when he placed an open-mouthed kiss against my throat, his tongue licking and tasting my skin.
I could feel the hard ridge of his dick pressed against my lower back, and I pushed back into him, wanting more than he was giving.
His fingers dug into my hips, crumpling the material of my dress.
His scent, the feel of his body, and his hot mouth devouring my jaw, neck, and collarbone had me forgetting everything except him. I didn’t even care that we were standing on a public balcony, with my back to a room full of colleagues, friends, and my father.
“Breathe,” he demanded, and I realised that my lungs hadn’t been cooperating again. I exhaled a shaky breath full of longing and arousal as his fingers explored down my thigh to the high slit of my dress.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I whispered, my breath stuttering. “Anyone could come out here. Anyone could see us.”
I could feel him grinning against my skin, cocky and confident, knowing exactly what he was doing to me. “But doesn’t it feel so good to be bad, la mia bella ribelle?”
“Why do you keep calling me that? Your beautiful rebel?”
“Because that’s what you are,” he husked against the shell of my ear as his fingers dipped beneath my dress, caressing my inner thigh. “The moment I saw you, I knew.”
“You knew what?” I panted as his fingers found my clit over my underwear.
“That you were meant for me.”
I gasped when he circled my clit, my body arching into his chest at the explosion of pleasure that made my legs shake.
His other hand snaked around my waist, holding me steady as his lips found my throat again and his fingers worked their magic.
I had to bite my lip to stop from crying out when two of his fingers slipped inside me, and his thumb continued to rub my clit.
I fell forward, planting my hands on the stone wall as my pleasure heightened.
His free hand moved from my waist to my neck, and he slammed me back against his chest again like a rag doll.
He held me there with his hand clasped firmly around my throat while he ground his dick against my ass.
I gasped, panting heavily because I had never had a man touch me the way he did.
With such confidence, as if he owned every inch of my body.
“Wouldn’t want you to fall, bellissima,” he groaned against my ear, increasing the pace of his fingers.
I moaned, closing my eyes as the pleasure increased, building and building until I couldn’t hold it in.
“Aria…” he husked my name as if it were a forbidden sin. “No man will ever touch you like this again. No one will ever know you like this except me.”
He squeezed my neck a little tighter to emphasize his words, making every sensation explode within me.
Damn, I had no idea I was into possessive dirty talk, but it pushed me over the edge.
His hand left my throat only to slam over my mouth as I came so hard that the lights of the city blurred together.
He held me to him, his back blocking any view of what we were doing to the room behind as I came down from the ecstasy.
He removed his hand from beneath my dress, twisted my head to the side, and pressed his fingers to my parted lips. My eyes widened.
“Apriti per me, piccola ribelle. Taste what belongs to me.”