Page 7 of Wicked (Wicked Billionaires #2)

DANTE

As I carry the disaster into the villa, I pause. I’ve not been inside for years. “Maria,” I yell, heading upstairs. I have no time for this kind of bullshit, but I hold my tongue.

Having stayed in the villa many years ago, I have a fair idea where the bathroom is. I carry the woman up the old stairs and to the bathroom on the first floor. Her face is inches away, and she looks up. Her eyes are deep blue, and they are circled by her dirty blonde curly hair.

A trickle of blood runs from her forehead and she has a small cut. Her legs in the denim shorts are warm in my hands.

I have not slept with anyone for months, and her silky thighs feel good. Too darned good.

After depositing the stranger in the bathroom, I start running the large, ancient bath. There is still no shower. That I loved, but now less so.

The crazy mess stands wide-eyed , and Maria has not replied. The mess then points out the window and mumbles, “The sea.”

I shake my head in disbelief. She has either knocked her head, or she’s an idiot. I pull out my phone and sigh.

As I wonder who to call, a grin crosses my face. I lean into the sign beside the mirror and touch it. It notes a local plumber, a builder, and the local doctor. I mumble as I dial, “I love you, Maria.”

“I love you too,” the crazy mess says, turning, “… but it’s not Maria.”

I am over the chaos as I hit dial. The village doctor answers fast, and I speak quickly in Italian. Finally, I end the call and turn back to the mess .

After I inform her I have to move the cars, I take her hands and lower her onto an old chair.

Returning minutes later, I crouch near her face. The girl gazes back at me sweetly, and for someone so all over the place, she really does have unique eyes.

Bluer than blue, Caribbean blue. Her lips are also full, even sinful.

“Listen,” I say, “a local doctor is coming, and he will check you out, okay?”

“Doctor.”

I hold her chin and examine her face and head. They don’t appear too bad. I peer down at her knee. “Where do you hurt?” She makes a strange face and touches her knee. “How bad is it?” I ask, losing my patience.

“Just hurts. Not broken.”

I realize the mud is the only thing I can help with, and it will kill time. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She smiles ever so sweetly, and I need to mumble, “Fucking crazy.” I fight the urge.

She reminds me of a moody actress I took against walls in the day, who gave the best blow jobs. It does not help the situation.

We watch the bath fill, and we share a few awkward looks. I pour her a glass of water, and she drinks it while staring at me.

Having her intense blue eyes on me while chugging the water starts to do something to me. The weird thing is she appears as innocent as they come.

I can tell she’s of legal age, and I hate myself for getting hard.

Just before it gets awkward, there is a knock at the door. I open it fast, appreciating the small village. “Perfect, come in.”

The old doctor looks exactly as I remember. He fixed me up every few years as I grew up around the village and castle, spraining this or that after a few crazy stunts on less-than-suitable horses.

After introductions, he checks her eyes and knee. Just as I’m about to leave, he asks me to stay and babysit her.

“Even if I don’t think she is concussed, I do not want her sleeping for six hours.”

Dear God, kill me now.

As he cleans the lightly dazed mess’s wounds, he asks where she is from.

“I am from New York City,” she says. “A city in America, the Land of the Free. I am writing a travel article on your fine country. I am twenty-three, and I am still a virgin .”

I cough loudly, and the doctor looks at me.

I lift a hand as if to apologize and I mumble to the universe. Having a virgin tossed in my path is not ideal; it’s not going to happen. I have no time to get distracted or tempted by…

“No fucking way,” I mumble low, walking away and starting to pace.

I have always had good instincts, and things are starting to feel wrong.

“Well, young Raven, you seem to be slightly concussed. I’m unsure about the remedy for your virginity. That is another matter.”

I stare out the window, and I am over babysitting the sweet girl next door, and I have few to no good bones in my body. I build empires, and I claim women.

End of story.

As the doctor stands with his bag, he smiles at me and says farewell in Italian. He then pauses by the door.

I’m about to complain when her big blue eyes home in on me, pleading.

“This gentleman will keep you awake, Raven. Do you understand?”

Raven nods, thanks him, and goes to pay.

The doctor tells her there will be no fee, and then he is gone. Gone, leaving me stuck with the virgin. I rub my temple and the only slither of goodness in me is dragged from the darkest part of my consciousness.

The virgin stands awkwardly and bows to me. “Thank you.” She then extends her hand. “How do you do?”

Her hand is still covered in drying mud. Not concussed, my arse. I’m screwed and my evening is gone. “Dante,” I say theatrically, “and it would appear I’m at your service.”

I am clearly in an alternate universe, and now with a fucking virgin.

Therefore, what is the point in playing along normally? I may as well join in with the ridiculous theatrics. I decide I need several stiff Campari and sodas to shake off the madness.

It will do two important things. Divert my imagination away from her, and her riding my cock, and calm me down.

I rub the back of my neck and consider the evening ahead.

So not deep in her, and so not teaching her how to come or when to hold back.

Also, how to ride climaxes for twice as long as normal. And all the tricks I know but have hidden deep away.

I walk to the open arched window and calculate rescheduling my lost evening. I was hoping to check designs and see if I could trim another under-performing fashion brand within my company, then redirect a hundred million to another and balance out resources and staff.

That plan is now screwed, like me. Turning, I find the virgin swaying and getting ready to step into the bath. The only thing is, she is now half-naked.

As she pulls the last leg from her shorts, she starts to topple over.

As she awkwardly spins, I move fast, and she drops into my outstretched arms. Her head is an inch away from the iron bath.

Our lips, again, are also inches away.

I know the universe has it in for me, and I feel pissed. In my work, I utilize logic and probability. The concept of a hot virgin thrown in my path and lips so close to mine twice is against the odds.

“Fucking universe,” I say as I lift the innocent and helpless woman. Her Caribbean blue eyes sparkle, and she is only inches away.

“Grazie, Dante!”

I clear my throat and help her stand as the bath fills.

Before I know it, she yanks off her muddy shirt. She is now in a sexy black thong and pink and black bra. I, three feet away, am stumped.

As she steps into the warm bath, I am forced to hold her arm. I try not to look at her perfect body, but it’s hard, like my thick needy cock.

“Ahhhhhhhh…” she moans, sighing and dropping into the hot water.

I try not to watch, but I fail. I force myself to walk to the window. Disturbed and turned on, I close my eyes.

After a minute, just as I finish coming in her in my mini fantasy, she clears her throat.

I glance back at her because it was an ‘excuse me’ throat clear. Much of her face is still covered in mud, and she is using a fancy face cloth to try to clean up. Mud still covers much of her body, and she appears below average at the cleaning task.

“Did I miss any?”

“Yes,” I growl, still as hard as steel.

“Where?” she asks, innocent and tempting.

“On your head, arms and leg,” I growl pointing. “In fact, all over.”

The mess holds out the fancy face cloth, and it hangs from her long delicate fingers. I don’t move. It is a very bad idea.

I will ruin her.

Even if I will have incredible pleasure for an hour, maybe two or three, it is unwise. I imagine stretching her and messing with her entire body. Making her come, teasing her, and stopping her from coming.

“Please, Dante!”

Do not say that! Ever.

I dislike time wasting, almost as much as I like sliding into pussy.

Walking over, I tell myself to control my energy. I give her a stern look, and I shake my head. “You are out there, Raven!”

“You have no idea.”

I snatch the old-styled cloth, and I command her to stay still. The virgin closes her eyes, and I wash her face. As I wipe her lips, I think of my hard head rubbing against her lips and then sliding inside them.

I then think of pushing inside her and stretching her ass. I groan inside, and my cock twitches. I force myself to walk away, and I relocate to her shoulders and back. Staying away from her eyes and sinful lips is key. It’s also in case she sees my hard cock through my trousers.

As I take in her body, I remind myself I’m not good for her. I go to leave when I see mud and dirt in her blonde hair. “Your hair. It is full of mud.”

Seconds pass, then she turns her face. “Please. Wash it for me.”

I slide the chair over with my foot, and I sit behind her. As she lays there silently, I have trouble thinking. She does not have an ounce of makeup on, and she is cute. She is curvier than I’ve liked in the past, but she is perfect.

Her sinful lips and eyes are her best features, but as I look down her entire body, I pause. She is incredible. And again… untouched.

I run my fingers through her hair, and as I do, I feel disturbed. I inhale Zen-like and try to not think of teaching her to kiss. Then educating her about coming. As I imagine her moaning and coming properly for the first time, I lecture myself about virgins.

Nothing good will come. Only I will, and hard!

I’ve never washed a woman’s hair before, and there is something tender that confuses me. I’m used to yanking on hair wound up like rope and pulling women onto my cock.

One is rough and savage. The other tender… and intimate.

Finally, I finish washing her long, silky hair, and her spectacular skin is soft and satin like. Slowly, I wipe soap and water from around her temples, then her chin, and finally, her lips. Lips I want to push inside of.

“Oh God, that’s nice, Dante. Don’t ever stop.”

Do not fucking say that.

I continue washing her face with the delicate cloth around her chin, jaw, and neck. I can’t help myself. It’s divine…

Like her.