Page 14

Chapter Fourteen

Cleopatra

He starts slow, the first strikes little more than gentle caresses, the leather tails whispering against my skin. I gasp at the initial contact, more from surprise than anything else. He builds the intensity gradually, each strike a little firmer, a little sharper, until the room is filled with the rhythmic sound of leather meeting flesh. I grip the bench tightly as I absorb each strike, the sensation blooming warm across my skin.

He pauses, running his hand over my backside, soothing the sting with his touch. "You're doing so well," he murmurs, his voice thick with approval. "Your skin turns such a beautiful shade of pink."

He steps back, the leather whistling through the air again as he resumes his rhythm. The strikes come faster now, harder, each one making my breath come in quick gasps, my skin tingling and alive. It's a dance on the edge of a knife, the line between pleasure and pain blurring with each strike .

He pauses again; his breath ragged as he tosses the leather strap. His hands grip my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh as he presses against me, his hardness evident. I can feel his heart pounding against my back, his body radiating heat and desire.

"You take it so beautifully," he growls, his lips brushing against my ear. "But I want more from you. I want to hear you scream for me."

His hands leave my hips, deliberately trailing up my back, fingers tangling in my hair and pulling gently. He draws my head back with an easy, practiced strength, exposing my neck to him. I gasp for air as the tension builds, my body arching in response to his movements. His other hand reaches around, slipping between my legs and finding me slick and eager for him. I feel his breath hot on my throat as he groans, his fingers circling my clit with a slow, maddening pressure.

The world narrows down to nothing but electric pleasure. A sob of need escapes me, my body pushing back against him, desperate for more. He keeps the pace steady, increasing the intensity.

Sweat beads on my skin as I strain against the bench. Desperation wells inside me as my breath comes in ragged pants, each burst of air punctuated by a whimper of longing.

He holds me there, my body a bowstring, taut and ready to snap, hovering at the brink until I can hardly stand it. Everything in me coils tighter and tighter, tension thrumming through my veins until it reaches a fevered pitch. “ Please…” I'm trembling, my voice thick with need, desperate to release it all in a single, shattering moment.

"Scream for me, baby," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire. "Let me hear you."

His fingers move faster, his grip on my hair tightening. I can feel the scream building in my throat, raw and primal, begging for release. My body convulses, the tension snapping like a live wire, and I let go, a cry tearing from my lips as waves of ecstasy crash over me. He holds me through it all, his fingers drawing out every last shudder, his grip keeping me grounded as I come undone.

As the waves subside, he releases my hair, his hand gently smoothing down my back. His other hand slows its movements, gently bringing me down from the high. I'm panting, my body sheened with sweat, my heart still pounding wildly.

He kisses my shoulder softly, murmuring words of approval and praise. "So good, baby," he whispers. "So, fucking good."

He steps back, his hands leaving my body, and I feel a sudden emptiness without his touch.Collapsing over the bench, I lay there, my lungs trying to find air to replenish my liquid limbs. I gather enough strength to proudly whisper, “I didn’t even have to say pineapple.”

He moves me to the bed, lying me down to face him while he takes a moment to admire my body. Leaning down, he murmurs about how beautiful my breasts are, taking my right nipple in his mouth. His hungry kisses led to amazing sex in three positions, him turning me and tugging me, and me moaning like the sex goddess I didn’t know I could be. That heinous video and he-who-shall-not-be-named pop into my mind for a split second, but I push them right away. He’s moving them further and further from my memory.

After an hour of cuddling on the luxurious bed, I tell him I need a shower before dinner. I go to clean up, but he tells me to leave it. He pays his staff generously to take care of these things.

“Come down here often?” I tease.

He shakes his head. “First time.”

A little win pricks in the back of my mind, knowing I’m the only one he’s had here. We walk hand in hand back to our wing. Knowing me well enough to know that I need some alone time, he leaves me at my door with a kiss.

I have to lay down the law now. If I wait any longer, I’ll regret it. It’s my responsibility to ensure we don’t let feelings get involved, or let ourselves play make-believe, thinking we’re something that we’re not.

“Blaze.” I press my hands to his chest, pulling away from the kiss. “We both know that when we go back to the city, all the fun and games are over between us. Back to real life. You here, mafia bossing Italy around while me and my kiddos are learning sight words in my classroom.” I search his gaze. “Right?”

“Of course,” he says. But he looks away.

Not wanting to push him, I take him at his word. “K.” I go to enter the room.

He stops me with a demand. “Wear the black dress.”

I turn and smile. “You’re the boss. ”

“Damn right I am. And I’m the boss of that amazing ass of yours, too. Don’t you forget it.” He leaves me with a grin. The smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

I shower quickly, drying my hair and not bothering to curl it since it won’t stay anyway. I put on some makeup, skipping the blush. I know I won’t need it in Blaze’s presence. I go to the closet and find the black dress.

Whoa…

The silk dress has delicate straps, a plunging neckline, and a slit that reaches high on the thigh. Even hanging on the rack, its luxury is evident. The difference between couture and Target cannot be denied.

Can I pull a dress like this off?

I’m short, but high strappy heels compensate for my lack of height. I dress quickly, the material like cool water against my skin; the shoes pinch, but they are worth it for the way they make my legs look longer and my ass tighter. When I look at my reflection, I can barely believe it’s me.

There’s a knock at the door.

Giving myself one last look, I take a deep, steadying breath before calling, “Come in!”

He walks in with damp hair pushed back and one dark lock hanging over his eye. He wears a gray suit, a thin black tie, and a striped shirt underneath. I hover in place, waiting for his approval.

His eyes go wide when he sees me. “Damn.” Slowly, he takes me in, his gaze roving from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. There it is, that warm floating feeling that comes over me when he’s admiring me.

He moves toward me, dress shoes snapping against the floor until he reaches me. “I want you to know,” he says, “The Beauties had no hand in this purchase.” He traces his finger down the low, silky neckline, over the curve of my breast. “This one was all mine.”

We’re interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing at the door. “S’cuse me then. Didn’t know I was walking up on Fifty Shades of Grey in real life. Damn, Christian, you lookin’ good. Let me see my Anastasia.”

He steps away from me, letting Seraphina get a good look at me. She stands in the doorway, one hand on her hip, pinching the velvet of her lime green dress to her waist. “Dang girl! You clean up real good.”

“Hi, Seraphina!” I move across the room, teetering on my shoes till I get the hang of them, to embrace her in a tight hug.

She gives me a brief squeeze, then holds me at arm’s length. “You truly look amazing. Like, seriously. Drop dead gorgeous.”

Now there are two of them to make me blush. “Thanks, friend. You look incredible. As always.”

She gives a little twirl. “Thanks. After my shoot, my bodyguard took me shopping. All this is courtesy of your man’s Black Amex, princess.” She leans over, giving Blaze a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks again, Blaze. You’re a very generous man. ”

I don’t bother correcting her about the ‘my man’ comment; instead, I ask, " Did you have fun with your bodyguard?”

“Yep. Two hundred pounds of muscle.” She runs the tip of her tongue over her lips. “Yummy. And he carries a Bachman Black Amex, too.”

“Your dream man,” I laugh.

The three of us head downstairs. I’m grateful Seraphina’s with me for multiple reasons, but tonight it’s me, Blaze, Liam, the head of the Villa, and his curly-haired blonde wife, Emilia, Sharon’s dad, and we’re going to meet Haze and his wife Ophelia for the first time.

All couples.

Blaze and I are NOT a couple. Just stepsiblings enjoying a flirty forced vacation with one another on their parents’ honeymoon.

Blaze tells us, “I’m going to run up to the West Wing and get the parents.”

“Take your time,” Seraphina calls, ready to grill me. The moment he’s out of earshot, she turns to me. “You two look cozy.”

“Stop fishing.”

“Don’t have to. I can already tell you hooked the big one.”

“It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like then?” She eyes my chest. “Your boobies are on full display tonight for somebody. This is the first time I’ve seen you with cleavage.”

“I didn’t pick it out. He bought this dress for me. ”

“Exactly. You’re wearing a dress he bought you. I don’t think that’s a dress my brother would buy me if I had one…” Her lips curve up into a knowing smile. “You’ve proved my point.”

Luckily, Sharon, Blaze, and Dad arrive at the top of the stairs. They meet us in the foyer, and we go around with greetings, complimenting each other’s black tie, glamorous outfits.

We step out into the cool Mediterranean breeze. It’s a short walk to the main house where we’ll be dining.

Shron hooks arms with her son, stealing him from me, which is good because I don’t want Seraphina to feel like a third wheel tonight. I hook my arm with my best friend.

She gives me a grin. “Need help on those stilettos, friend?”

“Kinda,” I laugh.

I overhear Sharon asking Blaze. “Did you ever give Gianna a call? I was talking to Emilia this afternoon. She said she knew the two of you would hit it off. Gianna ’s currently renovating a condo in Milan.”

Walking behind him, I can’t see the reaction on his face, but he does reach back, rubbing the back of his neck in what I decide looks like an uncomfortable manner. “Ah, no. Not yet,” he says.

Not yet. Or not ever?

I’m not a jealous person. He waited for me to see his house first. I hold on to that fact, gripping it tight in my pink manicured fingers. And I’m the only woman to be invited to the mafia lair .

Still, a yucky feeling creeps through my chest as my stepmother attempts to hook my stepbrother up with a woman who isn’t… me. The idea of him picking out a paint color with another woman…It’s almost worse than picturing him sleeping with the hottie we bumped into yesterday at breakfast.

Which I most certainly did NOT do, on and off, torturing myself the whole day.

This is over the moment the jet touches American soil. And he’s free to flirt, date, and be with any woman he wants.

I’m mature enough to handle this situationship.

Am I?

Tuning out the matchmaking talk going on behind me, I focus on the beautiful surroundings on our walk. When we arrive at the house, the staff are the first to greet us. Seraphina gestures to the waitress to hand me a flute of champagne from the silver tray she holds.

She’s a true friend.

I take a long sip of the sparkling drink, letting it warm me. I prepare myself for an evening where I will have to listen to a woman matchmake the man I just spent the afternoon having naughty sex with. The man who begged me to trust him. The man who is somehow healing my pain.

I have to sit beside this gorgeous man at that table and pretend there’s nothing real between Blaze and me.