Chapter 9
MADISON
It isn’t fair how fast this man can turn me on. I should be mad, right? Like, who the heck is he to just sit there and demand my underwear?
But I’m not mad. I want to give my lacy panties to him. I want to obey.
This is insane.
His dark brown eyes are locked on me, and he’s waiting to see what I’ll do.
If I don’t give him my underwear, I think the date will continue on, and there might even be a second date. I like him, and he seems to like me.
But if I do obey him, something incredible will happen. I know it. I can’t explain it, and I can’t say what, exactly, it could be. But Damiano has demonstrated he knows about pleasure.
I reach under my skirt, lift my hips, and tug down my thong.
Damiano holds out his hand.
Face burning, I set the crumpled lace in his palm.
He brings my underwear to his face…and inhales. “God, I want to devour you.”
My cheeks are so hot, I have to press my water glass to them to cool down.
His grin is wolfish as he sets my underwear on the tablecloth next to his plate. “Come sit on my lap, bella.”
This time, I don’t pause or wait. I simply stand and place my folded napkin on my chair. He pushes himself back from the table, giving me room, and I sit sideways on his lap.
“Beautiful, obedient bella,” he murmurs, kissing my cheek. “I’m going to reach under your dress and penetrate you with my finger, but that is all. You will not find release, nor will I. Not tonight. Do you understand?”
My brain is trying to catch up with everything he just said. I shorted out somewhere around the word penetrate. “Um, yes, but…”
He reaches for the hem of my dress and begins hiking it up. “But what?”
“The…um.”
How can I think when his warm fingers are sliding against my skin? He’s up past my knee, moving closer and closer….
“Talk to me, Madison. Tell me your concerns.” His breath is warm on my neck, tickling my ear.
“The server…what if she comes back?”
“Then she comes back. I won’t be doing anything she can see, bella. I will protect you and your pleasure—that is all I desire.” He strokes a little circle around my inner knee. “May I continue?”
I should say no. This won’t even end in an orgasm; he already said so. And yet I want his finger in me so bad, I’m burning for it.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Please.”
“So polite.” He sounds amused, but I can feel his heart pounding away where my shoulder touches his chest. He’s as excited by this as I am.
His hand travels farther up my leg. I suck in a breath as he moves his own thighs, encouraging me to spread mine.
“Let me in, bella.” The deep voice travels through me. “Let me touch you.”
When his fingertip makes contact with my pussy, I stifle my moan.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You can make whatever sounds you want.”
I don’t think so—not in such a public place. That poor server could walk in at any second to check on us. She wouldn’t be able to see anything, not with the way Damiano is holding me. But I would know. And if I’m making noises, she’d be able to hear them.
“Spread a little more for me, bella.” He pushes my thighs apart so he can get a better angle. His fingertip slides through my arousal, spreading it around, tantalizing my nerve endings, making me need him.
I clutch his muscular thighs as he slowly slides his finger into me.
“Good?” he asks.
“Yes—yes,” I whisper.
“Now, a bite.” He nips my neck before picking up his spoon with his free hand. He lifts a morsel of coq au vin to my lips.
I accept the bite, chew, and swallow.
“Tell me how it tastes, bella.”
“It’s good.”
“No, the flavors. Tell me what you tasted.”
It’s impossible to concentrate with his finger lodged in my pussy. It’s a game to him, I realize. He wants to drive me to distraction—it’s working.
I scramble to recall the flavors. “The chicken is tender. Um. Savory, too. The flavor is still on my tongue.”
“Good.” He slides his finger out, then back in again. “A sip of wine?”
“Yes, Sir. Please.”
“Beautiful manners.” He brings his wine glass to my mouth and offers me a sip.
The wine is smooth as it slides over my tongue. It tastes expensive. After I swallow, I say, “It’s very good. Smooth, something nutty. Almond, maybe?”
“I got that, too.” He offers me another bite of his dinner.
The server doesn’t return for the rest of the meal. I remain in Damiano’s lap, and he keeps his finger in me, just as he promised. Every now and then, he moves it slightly in or out, or he brushes my clit with his thumb. But it’s not enough to get me off.
By the time I eat the last bite on his plate, I’m ready to turn around, straddle him, and insist he give me completion.
“Up you go.” He removes his finger, gives my pussy a light stroke, and pulls his hand out of my dress. “Back to your seat, bella. The server is returning.”
It takes my mind a second to catch up. He wants me to get out of his lap, just like that? I need more from him—
“Madison,” he says. “You are welcome to stay right here, but you seemed concerned about the staff.”
“Right.” I get up and totter over to my seat.
As the server walks into the room, Damiano grabs my thong from the table and stuffs it into his pocket.
I open my mouth to say something before realizing that I can’t say what I want to say—how dare you, those are my panties—because then the server would know.
Damiano gives me a bright, innocent smile as he asks for the check.
* * *
DAMIANO
If Madison is disappointed I’m not asking her to come home with me, she doesn’t show it. I walk her down the street, holding her hand.
“I want to take you out again soon, bella.” I kiss her fingers, one by one.
“I’d like that, Sir. I mean, Damiano.” She laughs. “I don’t know what to call you.”
“Sir in a scene. Damiano, otherwise. But I wouldn’t say no to a more formal arrangement where you’re my submissive all day, every day.”
She gives me a look, her green eyes sharp. “That’s probably not a good idea.”
“Maybe not.” I shrug. “Or maybe you’d find that obedience very much suits you. I think it does.”
She blushes. “Are you going to give my underwear back?”
“I would like to keep them, if you don’t mind.”
That tantalizing blush deepens. “Fine, I guess.”
“Thank you, bella.”
“Well, this is my car.” She stops in front of an older sedan. This is not what I pictured when she said she might travel after quitting her job. I expected she would have more money for a newer, safer vehicle.
Then I realize—the money from the auction.
Does she think it’s enough to quit her job and travel?
I do some quick math. She earned almost fifteen thousand dollars that night.
But fifteen thousand will quickly be eaten up by the cost of living in San Esteban.
I hope she realizes that, but it isn’t my place to tell her. Not yet.
Perhaps, over time, she will let me help her. I would love to pamper her. The nicest meals, clothes. Jewelry. A new vehicle. She deserves the world. I barely know her, but I know this.
“A kiss, bella?” I lean in.
She lifts her face, and I touch her sweet lips with mine. I control the kiss. Firm, but soft.
I watch Madison get into her car. Every part of me wants to rip that flimsy door open and drag her back out, tuck her into my car, and take her home with me. I would do all kinds of filthy things to her, starting with eating her tight, wet cunt.
How badly I wanted to bend her over the table in Chez Michel. How badly I wanted to give in to the lust ravaging us both.
I’d love to see Seth’s reaction if I brought her home tonight. Imagine if we ran into each other in the elevator.
Madison’s car makes a terrible squeaking sound as she pulls away from the curb. I turn to go, but something in the distance catches my eye—another car pulling out into the street behind Madison’s.
When her car turns right, so does the other one.
Quickly, I jog to the end of the block. Madison’s taillights disappear as she makes another turn. The second car follows her.
I don’t like the look of that. Not at all. It could be a coincidence, but I haven’t lived through as much as I have by not listening to my instincts.
I take my phone from my pocket and make a call.