Page 7

Serafino

I knew evasiveness when I saw it and heard it, and Delilah was evading my questions like a pro. Literally. I almost smirked at the irony, except there was nothing funny about a woman whose traumatic past had paved her future.

We ate our breakfast in silence, and though it had been cooked to perfection, I barely tasted a thing. All my senses had honed in on Delilah, my body flooding with endorphins.

The universe had been listening when it had sent me the very thing I’d been looking for: something— someone —to refuel my existence and make me feel alive again. I’d never been more attuned to a woman before, had never been more invested or intrigued. I was beginning to understand why Ethan, Salvatore and Valentino had risked everything for their women.

Though I’d become comfortable using and abusing women, I wanted to cherish Delilah and make her happy. I wanted to see her smile and bask in her radiance. She was a special woman who deserved the world. That I didn’t deserve her wasn’t something I was ready to acknowledge just yet.

Paying for our meals, I pulled out her chair and led her outside, turning left and heading toward a small boutique that was becoming known for its quality fashion.

Delilah looked up at me as we entered the shop, the little bell on its front door trilling to announce our arrival. “I think I’ve heard of this place, it’s very exclusive.”

I nodded. “It is.” That it meant we’d likely have the place to ourselves made me happy.

A thin, bleached-blonde saleslady approached, her bright red lips thinning as she looked Delilah up and down before she all but preened as she viewed me in my tailored suit. “May I help you?”

I was tempted to subtly slip open my jacket and bare my firearm, anything to wipe the superior look off her face. Instead I said, “I want you to find this lady everything she needs.”

The saleslady lifted her pointy chin, her eyes alight with dollar signs as she said, “Of course, come this way.”

A few minutes later another saleslady came out with tea in a delicate china cup. It definitely wasn’t my drink of choice, but I accepted it and settled into a squashy chair while Delilah was swept into a curtained area where she could change into everything presented to her.

The two ladies tottered back and forth in their heels, showing me whatever outfits they’d found which might suit Delilah. I shook my head at a frilly pink dress—were they serious?—then nodded at a white, backless dress with a scooped neckline, its hem shorter at the front than the back.

My pulse surged as Delilah opened up the curtain and stood in the white gown that was sexy and classy all at the same time and seemed to have been made especially for her. I selected three more gowns, one a peacock blue, the other two black in totally different styles. After selecting some casual wear, bikinis were brought out next.

Each new skimpy bikini got me more aroused, the lump in my pants making me wish I’d worn clothes that weren’t so form-fitting. Did Delilah even know how gorgeous she was? She might work in a profession where looks were everything, but I couldn’t help but sense she’d never truly gotten past her stepmother’s cruel taunts.

It made my muscles quiver and my body tense. It would take very little to make me want to kill for this woman, to erase every bad memory she’d ever had. I had to take some deep, calming breaths, but it wasn’t until one of the salesladies looked at me with yet another bikini in her hands, then visibly shrank from the vibes I exuded, that I managed to push back my ire and force a smile.

Ignoring an urge to shove my sunglasses back over my eyes, I tucked them into my pants pocket just as the curtains swished open once again and Delilah stood in front of me in nothing but a crimson thong bikini bottom and top that almost exactly matched her hair.

I groaned low in my throat, my lust so primitive and raw there was nothing I could do to withhold it. I turned to the salesladies, my voice low. “Leave us now. Close the shop for half-an-hour. Go have lunch, whatever.”

The first lady, the one who’d treated Delilah with disdain, looked down at me, her pointed chin quivering. “That is unacceptable—“

“Of course, sir,” the other lady simpered. She was the smart one. The one who knew I wasn’t to be messed with. “We’ll bag everything you’ve chosen when we get back.”

The front door wasn’t even shut and locked when I stalked toward Delilah. The look on my face made her take a step back until the wall behind stopped her. I was too far gone to reassure her, to lie and tell her I wouldn’t hurt her. Instead I crushed her to me and slammed my lips on hers.

I was ready to spill my load inside my pants. Not even as a teenager had I lost so much control over a woman. It was both scary and exhilarating.

It wasn’t until she kissed me back, her gasps and groans joining my own, that I wrenched down my zipper and allowed my dick to spring free. I’d never been so glad to be commando. Pushing aside her bikini bottom, I grasped her thigh and lifted it up before I one-handed my dick and aligned it to her core.

I plunged hard and deep, her breath cutting off. Though I relished being wrapped like a glove inside her, I simultaneously wished I wasn’t quite so big. That I hadn’t made her wet with foreplay was a momentary regret. All I cared about right then was fucking her hard and fast and getting quick release along with relief.

It was all about my own pleasure—I’d take care of hers later.

I lifted her higher, the heel of her shoe digging into my ass as I took her ruthlessly and without restraint. Her spine banged against the wall, her tits bouncing beneath the bikini top that barely contained them. Long strands of her hair fell from her fancy clip, highlighting her parted lips and flushed face.

Damn, she was exquisite.

My balls lifted. I held her stare and growled, “I’m going to come.”

Her green eyes flashed. “Not without me.”

It wasn’t a high-class ploy. I slammed into her yet again and her inner muscles clenched, then locked around me as she cried out, her face contorting with bliss and more than a little shock.

My seed exploded out of me, gratification overwhelming me so thoroughly it was as if I was transported from one dimension into another, a place hazed with color so bright I was momentarily blinded.

I came back to reality aware Delilah was drooping around me, her leg slipping, her heeled shoe dragging along my flesh like a blade, and her arms that she’d wrapped around my nape losing grip.

I drew her tighter against me, glad of my strength that kept her there so effortlessly even as I bent and kissed her tenderly. She’d seen my savage side. I needed her to see my gentleness.

I drew back. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

I sucked a breath through clenched teeth as I wondered if she’d had clients as rough as me. “Is brutal sex considered normal in your profession?” I growled.

She blinked up at me, the dewy softness in her eyes quickly dissipating. “Why does that matter?”

“I don’t want you being hurt by other men.”

“But it’s okay for you to hurt me?”

Fuck’s sake.

I exhaled slowly even as I carefully disengaged from her, though my dick was already thick and hard. I deserved to suffer after what I put her through. “You said I didn’t hurt you?”

She staggered on her heels, and guilt immediately roared through me as I reached for her, steadying her. She glowered. “I’m fine. And I said sex with you was nothing I couldn’t handle. I enjoyed your brutality as much as you did.”

I tucked my hard length back into my pants, then zippered up. If only my emotions could be hidden away half as easily. It was as if my chest had been cut open to expose feelings that had long ago become anesthetized. I might have wanted to feel alive again, but I’d never allow her to crush my heart in her hands.

It’s too late for that, a snide voice said inside my head.

The bell tinkled on the front door, jerking me out of my bleak thoughts. The half-hour was up already?