Wife By Force: International Billionaires II: The Italians (22 page)

The scent always made him desperate to be inside her.

With grim determination, he put his numb fingers on the keyboard and began to type a response to an important email. The words were gibberish, of course. Yet she didn’t know that, and this was what counted.

The light touch of her finger on his neck nearly rocketed him from his seat.

Still, Dante Casartelli was not a man easily swayed from his purpose. Not by a woman, certainly. Not even if she was his wife, a woman he wanted with every cell in his body. A woman who currently was dressed in so little he could have her naked and on his desk in seconds.

The image of her spread across his large glass desk, all of her exposed to his gaze, his touch, was a blinding flash of torment. It made him want to howl. But she would know then. Know what she was doing to him. Clenching his hands in utter despair was not an option either. She would see it and know.

He kept typing.

The chaos of his thoughts blurred his reactions. Before he could process it, her warm, wet mouth moved across the line of his shirt, licking at his neck before, suddenly, nipping at his ear. Her hum lanced directly to his straining cock, nearly pushing him over the edge.

“Lara.” He managed to punch the word out with force. “I don’t have time for this.”

She ignored him.

Completely.

Her tongue slipped along the crevices of his ear, sending tingling spears of pure lust up his spine. She did even worse. Draping herself across the back of his chair, her soft hands smoothed over his shoulders and onto his chest. The thin silk of his shirt could not cover the hardness of his nipples, the flexing of his muscles. His siren of a wife laughed softly as she rubbed the tip of a finger across his aching nipple.

He had to get away.

Surging to his feet, he pushed his chair back, and her tempting arms and mouth left him. His libido screamed at him,
what are you doing
?

His last shred of determination yelled at him to leave, get away while he could. “I have to—”

“Brilliant,” she murmured, ignoring his words. With a swift move worthy of a star ballerina, she twirled before him and yanked his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. “I was beginning to get frustrated with all the clothes you have on.”

Dante glared at her, not believing in the innocent look she gave him. Not for a moment. “I don’t know what you are doing, but stop it right now.”

His wife glanced at him, her eyes dancing with pure gold intent. “No.”

Before he could wrap his head around her frank rebuttal, he found his tie whipped over his head. With a firm push, she had him sitting in his chair. Standing in front of him, she smiled, a sultry blast that demolished any words he had floating through his thoughts. With elegant simplicity, she knelt between his legs and leaned, full-length, across his splayed body.

There was nothing he could say to her at this point to make her think he wasn’t interested. Her knowing smile was accompanied by a slither of her body against the aching hardness of his erection.

“I think you know what I’m doing,” she said in a husky voice.

Closing his eyes, he let himself feel her on him. Her touch was painfully pleasurable. He knew this was backsliding. He knew he would pay for this for nights to come as he held himself rigid in their marriage bed. He would have to start all over, the process of pulling away, letting go.

But he was too far gone. Too far in her spell.

Her hands floated across his chest, buttons opening, silk pushed away. He kept his eyes closed, letting her do whatever she wanted. The vague thought rippled through him that she’d never been so forward, never taken charge of their lovemaking so completely. Which was why he found himself unable to put two coherent thoughts or actions together. She’d overtaken and overwhelmed him with barely a lift of her shoulders, barely a touch of her magic hands.

She was Eve. She was Venus. She was Seduction.

“You are so beautiful,” she purred.

Her fingers played with his rigid nipples, skimmed through his chest hair. She followed this madness with even further torture. Her warm, wet mouth slithered along his torso, lighting a band of nipping kisses down, down.

A long groan ripped from his throat. All of him was only feeling now, no thoughts of office, business, his decision to draw away. No thought. Only feeling. The feel of his body as it tightened and flexed. The feel of her warm breasts pressed on the most sensitive part of his body. The wet trail of her tongue as it played along the top of his pants, tickling the line of hair disappearing beneath his remaining clothes.

“Lara,” he begged. “
Per favore
.”

At the sound of his pant’s zipper, he managed to pry his eyes open and glance down. The black silk of his underwear tented high as she pulled open his pants. His wife’s smile was languid as she glanced at him. With a final touch, she blew his remaining control to pieces. Her warm hand took him, rubbing the silk along the length of his cock.

“
Dio
.” His body bowed upward, pushing himself into her grasp with instinctive need.

“Do you like this?” Her voice was soft and sexy.

Gazing at her, knowing he must appear demented in his need, he croaked, “You know I do.”

A sultry smile was his answer. “I’m going to do more for you.”

More? He trembled, his body shaking with need. What more could she possibly do for him? If she did anymore he’d go crazy, lose himself in her hand.

With one look of pure purpose, she answered his unspoken questions. She dropped her lips to his silk-covered length and nuzzled.

His hands fisted on the arms of his chair as he forced himself to stop the impulsive urge to push her wide, lush mouth into his lap. She had never indicated she wanted to do this to him, and he’d never pushed. He’d been more than content with having her beneath him, hearing her moans as he brought her to climax, feeling her arms and legs come around him, welcoming him into her heat.

But now, now…

His siren wife tongued him through the silk and he couldn’t stop the helpless gasp he gave her as encouragement. His head dropped back, eyes shut tight, his entire focus on that sweet mouth moving over him.

“Lift your hips.”

A slave to her command, he moved, feeling the slip of silk across his thighs, feeling the cool air hit the hotness of his skin.

Then the exploding pleasure of her wet lips enveloping him took the last of his conscious thought.

H
e tasted salty
. And hot. And desperate.

Every one of the licks gave her satisfaction because of his instantaneous response.

She watched his face as he groaned again. His high cheekbones were stained with red passion. For a moment his eyes opened, staring at what she did to him. They were glazed with frantic desire, blind to anything except what she was doing.

The triumph was sweet. The love beneath her actions beat like a throbbing note of hope. Lara had never wanted to do this with any man. But Dante, oh with Dante…

“
Son oil tuo schiavo
,” he moaned.

She didn’t want him to be her slave, she wanted him to be her love. Would he understand the meaning beneath her actions? Would he realize she would only do this with a man she loved with everything she had inside herself?

The tip of her tongue circled the head of his cock and she felt the flexing of his thighs as he pushed himself forward. She was surrounded by him, his heat and strength and maleness. Yet she was the one who held all this male power in her grip.

“
Madre di Dio
,” he hissed as she gave him another lick.

Her hand slid down the length of his erection and lightly palmed his balls. A torrent of Italian curses was his response, and then his broad hands gripped her head.

“Stop,” he pleaded. “I need to be inside you.”

Looking into the deep, velvet darkness of his heated stare, she tried to find what she was looking for. Did he know what she was saying to him? Did he understand?

“
Per favore, bella
.”

She rose in front of him, standing between his legs. With a single push, she lost her skirt and thong, now clad only in the golden piece of fluff wrapped around her breasts. His desperate gaze followed her every movement, his body open and naked for her perusal.

“Take it off, Lara.”

Feeling as though she’d found her secret essence, she slipped the last item of clothing she wore over her head.

Naked. Standing before him naked in every way. Body and soul and heart all before him. Whether he knew it or not.

“
Vene
,” he husked, grabbing her hand and tugging her towards him.

Slipping her legs by his, she knelt over him, brushing her entire body against the length of his torso. His hands gripped her butt, kneading her muscles, pulling her closer to the center of his heat.

For the first time in days, she kissed him on the lips. Smoothing her palms along his cheeks and into his hair, she dove right in, taking his mouth, just as she’d taken his body.

He answered her passion with a driving need. His tongue clashed with hers, igniting her excitement exactly as she’d done to him.

“Put me inside you,” he whispered on her lips.

Coming to her knees, she held him in her hand and eased him into the place he wanted to be. His gaze was entirely black, a raging, burning cauldron of need and desire. She kept her focus on his face as she slid down, taking him into her body and heart and soul.

Did he know? Did he understand?

His hands tightened on her, pushing her into his heat and power. His breathing rasped harshly on her neck as he pulled her to lie on top of his sweat-slicked skin. “I will not last long,
tesoro mio
.”

She didn’t care. She wanted this to be about him, her gift to him. Lifting herself, she tightened her muscles around him, pushing him towards the edge.

With a hoarse cry, he arched into her, and then out, tight hips pumping. His fingers pressed into her skin painfully, yet she was blind to anything but her husband and his satisfaction. Kissing his lips, his chin, his neck, she clamped down hard on his manhood and pushed him over.

His eyes compressed shut, long dark lashes stark against the passion red skin of his cheeks. His mouth dropped open, an animalistic sound of pure pleasure erupting forth. His hips bowed into hers, lifting her up with the power of his taking. He jerked, jerked again, in the innermost part of her, and she knew the flood of him pulsing inside her, a heated streak of need.

Panting, he slumped, his fingers loosening their grip on her skin.

She tucked her head into the hot, sweaty notch of his neck and shoulder, listening to the slam of his heart inside his ribs. With a gentle touch, she smoothed her hands across his shoulders and chest, listening as his pulse slowed, his breathing recovered. Was it the time to tell him she loved him? The words trembled and surged in her mouth.

Her brain zinged into action.

First apologize
.

Yes. First make things right. Then…

“Dante.”

One of his broad palms slipped along her spine and down to her butt, an almost absentminded touch. “Si?” His voice was quiet.

Pushing herself straight, she stared at him. The hook of his nose she used to think of as arrogant, yet now was so dear to her. The line of his jaw she used to believe showed his overbearing pride, now only seemed absolutely right for him. And his eyes, his beautiful dark eyes. She wanted to see love for her in those eyes.

But his eyes were still closed.

“Look at me.”

Thick lashes lifted, but shielded his thoughts.

“I’m sorry.” The pleasure of their sex started to slide away, replaced with bubbling anxiety.

The edges of his lips tightened, and his gaze took on a wary slant. “I don’t want—”

“You must listen to me.” She held his head in her grasp. “I felt smothered and confused. For a moment.”

His mouth twisted.

“Not by you,” she admitted, trying to make him understand. “By my past.”

The wariness left his eyes, replaced by reluctant interest. “Tell me what you mean.”

Taking a deep breath, she dove in. “My last marriage—”

“Ah.” His tone turned wry. “The sins I have been paying for.”

“Yes,” she grimaced. “You were right about that.”

Grunting, he began to rub his hands up and down her sides, and that gave her hope.

“When Gerry found out…” She stumbled to a stop. She’d never found it easy admitting this piece of herself. In her head, she knew it was nothing to be ashamed of. But in her heart, she still remembered Gerry’s reaction when he’d found out after their marriage. Shock and then a smug superiority. The superiority had slowly taken over her life.

“Found out?” Dante’s low tone stopped her rambling thoughts.

“I’m dyslexic.” She couldn’t help that her voice had turned brittle and hard.

His broad, sweat-soaked shoulders moved in the characteristic way he had that always made her tingle. “So?”

“He…he thought less of me.”

Eyes narrowing, his dark lashes hid the expression she so wanted to see. Understanding.

“He thought of me as a kind of child after that.”

His fingers tightened on her skin. “Idiot.”

The one word freed her laugh. Freed her from the past, filling her with quiet pleasure and peace. “Yes, he was.”

“I’m starting to get the picture.” His voice held a hard thread of violence in it. “I am glad for his sake he is no longer in the land of the living.”

Laughing once more, she ran her hand through the strands of dark curls lying at the edge of his ears. “Thank you for the thought.”

“So, he thought of you as a child—”

“And treated me like a child,” she finished for him.

“
Bastardo
.”

“Yes.” She brushed his ears with her fingers. “I kept thinking it would get better, that he would learn what dyslexia was actually about and change. But he didn’t. He only got worse and worse.”

“More and more…” His words slowed, then stopped.

“Controlling.”

The black deepness of his stare seemed to reach out to her, surrounding her. With understanding. “I see.”

“Do you?”

“
Si
,” his hands tightened on her skin and his mouth turned down. “I remind you of him.”

She cupped his jaw in her hands and dared to look into his somber visage. “At first, yes.”

“Ah.” He tried to tug his head from her grasp.

She sensed his emotional withdrawal, but kept her grip on his hard jaw and her wavering confidence. “But not at this point.”

He froze. His dark lashes lay like black fans on his pale skin. He said nothing, waiting, almost as if for a blow. Another blow.

Lara’s conscience ached at what she’d done to this man, how she’d spilled her past pain onto their relationship and hurt him. “Not now, Dante. Not now.”

Abruptly, he glanced up. Stared into her eyes with a stark look of misery. “What do you think of me then?”

Tell him you love him
.

Her heart screamed the words, yet her head and confidence shuddered. Would he believe her? Would he believe such a quick turnaround from where she’d been when she’d seen him again for the first time? Wouldn’t it be preferable to build toward the confession rather than blurting it out right now?

He gave her a hoarse laugh. “Perhaps it’s better I don’t know.”

“No.” She smoothed her hands across his cheeks. Would he see what she couldn’t say, in her eyes? “What I know is you are nothing like Gerry.”

His mouth turned grim and he glanced away.

“Dante.” She kept running her hands over him, trying to soothe. “Gerry destroyed me. You make me feel alive.”

His fingers relaxed on her hips and his gaze flew to meet hers again.

“Really.” She managed a small smile. “I want you to know I have put Gerry and that life behind me once and for all and you won’t be—we won’t be—saddled with that baggage anymore.”

His lips firmed, his dark eyes filling with pride for her. “I’m proud of you. It takes a woman of courage to come through what you did.”

His total and absolute support was a balm to her soul. “You honestly don’t mind that I’m dyslexic, do you.”

He frowned. “Why the hell should I?”

A shrug was the only answer she could come up with because a well of instant tears cluttered her throat. He truly didn’t care. He truly did accept her as she was. He actually wasn’t anything like Gerry.

“
Bella.
” He pinned her with a determined stare. “You are a remarkably intelligent woman. You’ve done incredible things with your school. I have great respect for you.”

“Well—”

“Which I’ve told you again and again.” His tone was slightly irritated. “I don’t have protection on you because I think of you as a child.”

“I know.”

Her short sentence stopped him. His wary stare bored into hers. “You understand my motivation is one of concern, not control?”

“Yes.”

He grunted a male reply and kept staring at her face.

“Please accept my apology,” she whispered through the love for this man clogging her throat.

“All right.” A faint smile curved his lips. “How can a man say no to such a persuasive argument?”

His wry humor shocked the tears away and she chuckled. “I had to do something to get your attention.”

“You were successful.” One warm male palm began to move over her skin. “I’m glad we’ve put this issue behind us.”

She gazed into his eyes with all the emotion in her heart. “I am too.”

“
I
have nothing to wear
.”

Dante’s chuckle was his only response.

Lara walked along the long line of dresses she’d accumulated over the past couple of months. There were more clothes here than she’d ever dreamed of owning, which had more to do with her husband’s continual purchases than her own. For some reason, he seemed to find enormous pleasure in contributing not only to her collection of lingerie, but now, to her outer-wear as well.

His focus perplexed her.

Why would a man who ran a billion dollar corporation want to spend time shopping for her? Still, he kept coming home with more and more. Almost every day she found some present on the bed, on the kitchen table, hanging in her walk-in closet…

She spotted the plastic-covered dress at the end of the row. “Dante.”

“Yes?” His low voice rumbled from the bathroom.

“You didn’t.” Slipping off the plastic, she nearly gasped at the sight of the gown. This was more than usual. Green silk slithered in her hand, the fabric covered with a web of fine crystal that shone and twinkled when the light hit it.

Her husband’s tall figure appeared at the door, a small tilt to his mouth. “I did.”

Looking up, she gave an inner sigh of relief. Since their interlude at his office two weeks ago, things had gone back to normal. Well, almost normal. They had their customary breakfast together in peace. He came home most nights at a reasonable time and usually cooked dinner. They made love every night. If every once in a while she caught an odd look from him, if every once in a while a shadow passed through his black eyes, if every once in a while he became quiet and withdrawn…well, it didn’t happen often and it would eventually pass, wouldn’t it?

But those isolated moments had stopped her, once more, from expressing her love. She wanted the timing to be perfect. She wanted all the shadows gone before confessing.

She wanted him to say
I love you too
.

Pushing away the deep yearning, she tugged the dress off the hanger. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m sure it will be outshone by your beauty.” His voice was husky as his gaze slipped down her barely clad form. She’d gotten out of the shower and merely wrapped a towel around her before tackling her wardrobe. A sharp zap of electric energy rocketed up her spine, making her nipples tighten and the tender place between her legs soften.

“Do we have to go to this dinner?” Batting her eyes with exaggeration, she sauntered over to him, tugged his tie loose and ran a finger across his silk-covered chest. She relished the new confidence she’d found in the bedroom after the explosive response he’d given her in his office.

His hand fisted around hers, pressing it against his warmth. “Do not tempt me.”

“But I do it so well, don’t I?” Standing on tiptoe and kissing the side of his neck, she breathed in the scent of his aftershave and his own unique maleness.

His hands clasped her shoulders and pulled her away. Dark eyes, filled with fierce passion, gave her some comfort. He was not unaffected. However, he was resolute. “I have to be there, Lara, you know that. I’m the keynote speaker.”