Page 78 of Their Reckless Thief (The Below #1)

Her hand tightened around her wine glass, knuckles going white as she struggled for composure.

Gods, this woman undid me, and I was utterly powerless.

I want to resist her, to stop wanting her.

There was a possessiveness simmering inside me, a primal need that arose every time I saw her, and though I knew I should pull back, I didn’t. I couldn’t.

I grabbed Celeste’s chair and pulled it closer to me in one fluid motion. Her eyes went wide, and she set her wine glass down. “Vincenzo. Not here.” Her cheeks turned a rosy red. “The staff is around. They’ll see.”

“Let them see.”

She gasped as I slid my hand higher up her leg, slipping beneath her lacy panties. “I do think you have something I want, dolcezza .” I spread her apart, my middle finger finding her center. I didn’t move at first, just pressed against her delicate, wet skin, watching her pulse quicken in her neck.

Slowly, deliberately, I slid my finger up and down her clit.

“Vincenzo,” she gasped. “I don’t know… I can’t?—”

“Shhh.” I pressed a kiss to her temple. “I want to see you come undone at the dinner table.” I pressed my finger against her entrance, teasing. “Tell me you’re not enjoying this…”

She bit her lower lip. Fuck . It took every ounce of composure I had in my body to contain myself.

I wanted nothing more than to bend her over the damn table and fuck her until she couldn’t see straight.

If the staff wanted to watch, fine by me.

As much as Celeste seemed to believe she didn’t want an audience, she’d never been so wet for me.

She was dripping at the thought of being on display.

I pressed my finger inside her and curled it upward, pressing into her sensitive spot. Celeste gasped and grabbed the edge of the table, but she spread her legs wider for me and bucked against my hand.

“That’s what I wanted to see. Do you like that, dolcezza ?

” I nuzzled close to her neck, inhaling her scent with every beat of her pulse as she desperately tried to contain her moans.

I wrapped my other arm around her for support, drawing her closer to me.

She couldn’t ever be close enough for my taste.

A female staff member moved toward the table, but I didn’t budge. I slid my arm out from around Celeste and picked up my goblet, taking a sip as I fucked her with my fingers.

The waitress stopped for a moment, glancing at Celeste’s reddened face. “Is there, uh, anything I can get for you?”

I smiled coolly. “Perhaps you could give us a few more moments without interruption.”

She nodded and practically ran back to the kitchen. Poor thing, she’d probably never been fucked properly.

I turned my attention back to Celeste, watching the flush spread across her skin, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths.

She was a vision—so open, so utterly mine in this moment.

The trust in her eyes, that desire blazing in them, was a heady thing, making my control slip like sand through my fingers.

Adding another finger, I pushed deeper, her heat enveloping me as a strangled moan slipped from her lips. The sound shot through me, straight to my hard, aching cock. This time, I didn’t hold back. My free hand slid between her legs, fingers grazing the slickness already gathered there.

“Eyes on me, dolcezza .”

Her wide, glassy eyes snapped to mine, as if she couldn’t quite decide whether to drown in the pleasure or fight for air. The intensity of her reaction—her body arching into my touch, her muscles trembling—stoked the fire burning low in my belly.

Pressing my thumb against her clit, I began to work her in earnest, my fingers pumping into her wet pussy in a rhythm that made her breath hitch.

“Come for me, Celeste,” I growled. “Let me see you come undone.”

Her body obeyed before her mind could catch up.

She shattered around my hand, her head falling back, her lips parting on a sharp cry that I wanted to capture, taste and devour.

Her thighs clenched around my wrist, and I didn’t stop, driving her through the waves of her release until she was trembling, boneless, and utterly wrecked.

I was far from done with her.

She placed a trembling hand on my thigh, sliding up and up until her fingers brushed against the hardness straining against my zipper. “What about you?” Her lips curved into a wicked, teasing smile. “Maybe I should make you writhe for me in front of your staff?”

Her audacity sent a shiver racing down my spine, and my cock twitched at the idea. My breath hitched before I could stop it, betraying the control I prided myself on. She knew exactly what she was doing, and gods help me, I wanted to let her.

“In due time, dolcezza ,” I murmured, my voice edged with a warning I wasn’t sure I believed myself. “But right now, it’s all about you.”

I leaned forward, dragging my lips along the column of her throat, savoring her thundering pulse beneath her skin. The scent of her filled my senses, rich and intoxicating, laced with the faintest edge of salt from the sheen of sweat that clung to her.

I flicked my tongue over her skin, tasting the faint metallic tang of her blood rushing through her veins. It was maddening, the compulsion rising inside me like a tide, pulling me under. My fangs ached, the primal need to claim her, to taste her, coiling tighter with every second.

“Please, Vincenzo,” she whispered, her voice cracking in desperation. Her fingers curled into my shirt, pulling me closer. “Please bite me. Please.”

The plea in her voice unraveled me. My already-frayed restraint snapped completely. Growling, I tilted her head to the side, exposing the delicate curve of her neck. I brushed my lips reverently against her skin before sinking my fangs into her.

The moment her blood hit my tongue, the world tilted. It was everything—dark and rich, like wine aged for centuries, with a sweetness that was uniquely hers. She gasped and arched into me, her nails digging into my shoulders as a cry ripped from her throat.

Her reaction was visceral, immediate. Her thighs clenched around me again, her entire body trembling as a second climax tore through her, more intense than the first. The sound of her pleasure was like a drug, intoxicating and all-consuming.

I drank deeply, savoring her. The bond between us tightened with every pull I took. Her blood was fire in my veins, scorching and electric, lighting up every dark corner inside me. The way she clung to me, her hands desperate and possessive, only pulled me deeper.

When I finally withdrew and licked the puncture wounds to seal them, she sagged against me, boneless and sated. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her lips swollen from biting them to muffle her cries.

“You are a dangerous woman, Celeste.” My voice was hoarse, trembling with the effort it took not to lose myself completely.

She tilted her head back, her eyes heavy-lidded and glowing with satisfaction. “And you, Vincenzo, are a dangerous man.”

I smirked as I traced a finger down her cheek, savoring the heat radiating from her flushed skin. “Then it seems we’re perfectly matched.”

I barely had time to catch my breath before she moved. Celeste reached for my zipper, her fingers grazing the fabric with maddening precision. I watched her, every nerve in my body taut and thrumming.

“ Dolcezza ,” I warned, though it lacked conviction. Her name left my lips like a prayer, heavy with both reverence and hunger.

She met my gaze, her lips curving into a wicked smile that sent a jolt straight to my core. “You had your turn,” she murmured huskily. “Now it’s mine.”

I gritted my teeth as those nimble fingers slid the zipper down. She slipped her hand into my trousers, her touch warm and firm as she freed me. The cool air brushed against my aching length, a stark contrast to the heat of her palm as she wrapped her fingers around me.

“Celeste,” I rasped as I gripped the arms of the chair to anchor myself. The sight of her, flushed and glowing, her lips swollen and her eyes burning with purpose, was enough to unravel the last threads of my control.

She climbed onto my lap with a grace that belied the tension thrumming in her every movement.

Her knees pressed against the sides of the chair, her dress riding up to expose the smooth curve of her thighs.

My hands found her hips instinctively, fingers digging into her flesh as if to ground myself in the reality of her presence.

Her warmth pressed against me, and I hissed through clenched teeth, the sensation almost too much. “You’re playing a dangerous game, dolcezza .”

Her smile widened, daring and unapologetic, as she guided me to her entrance. “Good,” she whispered, sinking down onto me in one slow, torturous motion.

The heat of her enveloped me, drawing a ragged groan from deep in my chest. She was tight, perfect, and the way she moved—deliberate, confident, utterly consuming—left me breathless. Her nails dug into my shoulders, her body arching as she took all of me.

She gasped. “Vincenzo.”

The pure need and triumph in her voice had me tilting my head back and gripping her hips as she began to move—slow at first, then faster, riding me with a rhythm that pushed me closer to the edge with every passing second.

The chair creaked beneath us, the sound of her cries mingling with my own low growls in a symphony of ecstasy.

“You’re mine,” she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute.

A dark, possessive growl burst from my throat. I slid my hands up her back, pulling her closer as my hips surged up to meet her every movement. “And you’re mine, dolcezza .”

The tension coiled tighter between us, a storm building with every thrust, every cry, every shared breath. I felt her tighten around me, her body trembling as she neared her release, and the sight of her—wild and undone in my arms—pushed me to the brink.

“Let go, dolcezza . Come with me.”