Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon (6 page)

“People
call you that all the time. But no, it is not conceited to be aware of your
strengths. Mine happen to be the way I look. That has nothing to do with me,
just genetic lottery, but still.”

“You
are
a very beautiful woman,” he
agreed. “Not classically beautiful perhaps, there’s too much fire in you for
that.”

“Fire?
Because of my red hair?”

“No,
that’s not where it is. It’s here.” He reached out across the table and ran the
back of his hand down her cheekbone. The contact made her shiver and she had to
clench her fists, her nails digging into her skin. Only the pain did nothing to
bring her to her senses.

Lyra
was falling and fast.

“The
face,” he added. “The eyes particularly. You’re brimming with it.”

“I
take that as a compliment,” she said, and she had to work to keep her voice
steady.

“As
you should.”

He
pulled his hand back, leaving her cheek feeling like it was aflame. More than
just her cheek though, she felt hot everywhere. She wanted to feel Andros’
tanned hands on her. She imagined him running his fingers down her chest,
tracing a trail to her nipples. God, they were hard, she could feel them
scraping against the fabric of her dress.

“The
question I now have to ask myself is why you sought me out specifically, Lyra,”
Andros said slowly. “Why, somehow, you managed to fix the system at Club
Belmont, and yourself, to attract my attention.”

“You
assume it was all for you?”

He
shrugged, the gesture so male, so assuming. “I know it was. I am asking you a
question I already know the answer to, but like you I want an answer just as
you wanted one from me.”

“You
see what I mean about arrogance.”

“It
is justified.”

“Indeed
it is and there is your answer.”

“Elaborate.”

She
sighed, propping her chin on her hand. Her fingers lay on the spot that Andros
had caressed and it felt ridiculously warm to her. Though maybe that was just a
fancy? “Let’s pretend it’s Regency times, Andros,” she said. “Let’s pretend I’m
a genteel, but impoverished, woman who is looking for a protector.”

“And
you wish this protector to be me?”

“I
figured I would reach for the stars.”

“Because
you always get the moon if that fails?”

“Precisely.”

“That
I do not doubt.” He paused. “Lord Carl Ainsley would have been your protector
in a flash.”

“He
does not interest me,” she said.

“He
is rich.”

“Not
as rich as you.”

Andros
laughed, probably because it was so true. “Few people are.”

“And
besides I don’t simply want a protector for his money,” Lyra said honestly.
After all, she could have just robbed him if that was the case.

“Then
what else?” he asked.

“You
would like a list?”

“Of
course.”

And
she had that list. Had made it the moment she and her sisters had conceived
their plan. It was easy to rattle it off now and Lyra did, wondering exactly
what Andros would think when he heard it. “Okay. He has to be attractive. And
not just mildly so. I’m talking about the sort of attractive that makes you
wince when you pass a man in the street, makes you turn around along with every
other woman and follow him with your eyes until he walks out of view.”

“And
you would put me in that category?”

She
rolled her eyes again. “You know you’re in it.”

“The
rest of the list if you please.”

“The
body has to match the face,” she continued. “Sculpted, toned, irresistible.”

“Continue.”

“And
he has to be as hard as he is sexy.”

“Hard?
Why?”

“Because,
Andros, it is easy for a man to think himself in love with a woman who looks
like I do. The first flash of lust confuses them. Before you know it they’re
down on one knee begging you to marry them.”

Silence
for a moment as he was digesting her words, and when he spoke his accent was so
thick it made Lyra’s thighs clench. She couldn’t help but imagine him
whispering filth to her in that voice.

“And
you are not a marrying kind of girl.”

“Absolutely
not,” she said.

“And
you want a man who thinks alongside the same lines.”

“Precisely.”

Another
moment of silence and Lyra waited. It all hung in the balance now, so she could
do nothing else. Her position was clear. Question was, would Andros go for the
bait?

 
“Well,” he said eventually and her heart raced
in her chest. “It seems, Lyra Matthews, that you have found him.”

Chapter Six

The
drive back to Andros’ home was tense, much more so than the short drive to the
restaurant had been. The car was practically thrumming with the awareness
between them, and it took everything he had to keep his hands, and his mouth,
to himself. But Andros knew he had to play it right, to grab at some sort of
patience.

Lyra
was sat next to him, seemingly serene. Her hands were placed on her lap, her
legs crossed, and she was looking out of the window at the passing scenery.
Only the windows were tinted, so there was little to see. He paused; maybe she
was not so serene after all.

“Where
are you taking me?” she asked softly.

“To
my home—one of them at least,” he said, though really they should be going to a
hotel. He never took women back to his town house, only he didn’t think he
could last out the time to get to a hotel, and besides, he wanted no
distractions. Just him and her, and the pleasure they were going to give each
other.

“You
live alone,” she said. Andros could tell by the tone of her voice that it was
not a question.

“I
do.”

“No
staff.” Again it was not a question.

“Not
live in,” he replied.

“Ah.”

He
shifted in his seat as he considered how she knew his living arrangements, the
issue with the register prodding him again. But desire was clouding his brain,
making it difficult to consider all the little warning signs which said quite
clearly that his meeting with Lyra was not by chance. It was arranged by her
for a very specific reason.

He
remembered her words in the restaurant, exactly what it was she wanted from
him, and frowned inwardly. He couldn’t think about that right now. The only
thing on his mind was fucking her as soon as possible. Hard. Fast.
Dios
, he couldn’t wait to sink inside
her, to lose himself in waiting wetness.

 
“And when we get to your home?” she asked.

Images
of her long legs wrapped around him, her breasts in his mouth, her lips running
along his cock filled Andros, and he didn’t think before reaching across the
space between them, placing a finger under her chin. She turned her head for
him—anticipating his action—and their eyes met. The tension ratcheted up
another notch. Andros was tempted to lean across and kiss her. Only he
suspected once he started he would not stop, and the back of his Bentley was no
place for the sort of seduction he planned.

“I
am going to fuck you,” he said bluntly.

She
nodded, seemingly not the least bit perturbed by his words. “Yes you are.”

He
moved his finger from her chin, running it down her neck. Her skin was as soft
as he had expected it to be, and despite his resolution to wait, to hold on to
the little control he had left, Andros could not help but continue the journey
downwards. He ran the pad of his finger across her collarbone, inhaling sharply
when he felt how fragile it was. Then down across her chest, over the light
dusting of freckles, before finishing at the fabric of her dress.

“Do
they go all the way down?” he asked.

She
gave him a quizzical look. “They?”

“The
freckles,” he said. “Do they go all the way past here?” He tugged on the fabric
with his finger, pushing it away from her skin.

She
sighed softly. “Yes they do.”

Carefully,
slowly, Andros closed the distance between them. The leather of the seats
creaked, the noise a sharp counterpoint to their breathing.

“I’m
going to kiss every single one. I’m going to kiss and lick every inch of you,
Rossa
.”

She
smiled that sultry smile again. “You think you can find every single one?”

“I
think I am going to try.”

 
By the time they made it to his home Andros
was ready to burst. He unlocked the front door, and pulled her into the lobby
with him. A moment later the door was locked, they were alone, and nothing
stood in their way.

“Come
here,” he demanded, and just like in the car, she complied.

It
was just two small steps, straight into his outstretched arms, and it was only
when she was up close to him that Andros realized she was smaller than he’d
thought. Even in those killer heels, she reached only to his shoulder. With
them removed, she would be smaller still, delicate even. Except that delicate
did not match the fire flashing in her eyes and his dick hardened as soon as he
looked into them.

“You
are so beautiful,” he breathed.

“You’re
not too bad yourself, Andros.”

He
lifted a hand and ran the back of it along her face. Her eyelids fluttered as
he did so. When she let out a soft sigh, he knew that this was going to be
easy. More than that, it was going to be exciting. He could feel it in the pit
of his stomach, prodding him, urging him and Andros gave into it.

“We
are going to have so much fun together,” he whispered. “So much.”

He
lowered his head, capturing her lips. They were soft, plump, tasting ever so
slightly of strawberries. He moved them, and teased them, making her relax
against him.

“Mmmm,”
she sighed and if possible his cock thickened even more.

Andros
took her arms and wrapped them around his neck, placed his around her waist,
pulling her body the length of him. His dick was prodding her stomach, and she
undulated slightly, encouraging him.

Their
kiss continued, each of them plundering the other’s mouth, taking their fill.
It was like taking too much oxygen. It made Andros lightheaded, made him ache
to be inside her.

He
lowered his hands until they found the hem of her dress, one little tug to make
sure it wasn’t too tight, and Andros hooked his hands under her ass before
lifting her into his arms. She gasped against him, her lips stilling, but wrapped
her legs around his waist. Her pussy was now directly above his swollen cock,
giving him just a taste of what was to come.

Andros
groaned against her lips. He knew there was no way he was going to make it to
the bedroom. It would take too long. Instead he carried her into the living
room, to the wide couch, and carefully lowered her to the floor, their lips
breaking contact.

Their
gazes met. He could see the excitement in hers, knew it was reflected in his,
and when she nodded, he reached around her back until he found what he was
looking for. The zipper reached from the middle of her shoulder blades to the
cleft of her ass. Andros ran his fingers along it until he found the small
piece of metal needed. Then slowly, in what felt almost like a torturous motion,
he undid it. The sound was clear, an accompaniment to their heavy breaths. A
moment later, the dress slackened. Carefully he lifted Lyra’s arms outwards, so
that the straps of the dress fell down them, until she held on to it with
nothing but her elbows.

“Relax,”
he whispered. “Let me see you.”

She
did. The dress pooled on the floor in a splash of perfect red, and when Andros
took a step back, his heart seemed to stop. He’d seen many women naked over the
years, delighted in them, but nothing and no one could compare to the woman now
stood on front of him.

She
wore no bra, and her breasts were so perfectly formed that Andros couldn’t help
but agree that a bra would have made no sense. Why should anything cover those?
They were rounded and firm, just begging to be bitten into, the nipples already
puckered in the cool air.

Her
waist was slim, ridiculously flat and…he smiled and ran a finger
downwards…glinting in her belly button was a tiny little stud. It was ruby red.

 
Signora
in Rossa.

His
finger continued downwards to the panties, which he had to admit, Andros had
expected to be red too, but these were white. A perfect, virginal white, though
the design was anything but innocent. A mere scrap of lace, they covered only
the essentials, and even then Andros could see plenty.

He
dropped to his knees, ignoring her sharp intake of breath, and hooked a finger
on either side of the waistband. Slowly, allowing himself time to breathe, he
dragged her panties down her hips and along her thighs.