Something inside me uncoils and then scurries to tie itself back up in knots when I open the door to find her standing by the bed naked. My breath hitches. My cock instinctively rises to the occasion, bulging against my pants.
Tamara didn’t warn me that I would find her undressed.
I glance back along the corridor, but Tamara has already vanished. Did she deliberately withhold this information? Is she angry with me for being too lenient with the printzessa, or is she still upset with me about our conversation the evening before? Because she believes that Gianna’s presence changes everything.
I haven’t seen Ivana since the cold room—she is no doubt releasing her frustration in the shooting range or on the first poor unsuspecting guy who offers to buy her a drink at the casino.
I’m here because I need to set the wheels in motion to complete the mission and return Gianna to her family. Tainted, as I’d so nonchalantly pointed out to my father. Whatever twisted scenario my father might’ve painted inside his head when I revealed my intentions, he should know me well enough to understand that I would never corrupt the printzessa against her will. I am not a monster. Not that kind of monster anyway.
No, Gianna will come to me of her own free will. She will be unable to resist my obvious charms. She will succumb to my advances and beg me to take her, and that’s how I will deliver her back to Xander and Melissa: panting, wet, and so desperate for me that no one else will ever do.
I mentally shake myself.
I’m an asshole, I won’t deny it, but I’m not normally such a conceited, arrogant asshole who thinks women will fall at my feet and beg for me to fuck them in every available orifice. Sure, it has happened before. On several occasions. But I never take the women up on these offers because my cock shrinks far too quickly when I’m with someone who has no self-respect. He’s a fussy fucker.
I already knew that corrupting Gianna Sedric would be a challenge. It was part of the attraction when I gave the order to kidnap her rather than her sister Melissa. But I’m starting to realize that perhaps I underestimated her, and this sends an unexpected buzz of excitement shooting through my veins that is better than any shot of Billionaire Vodka.
It has been a long while since I have experienced the thrill of anticipation, and I didn’t even realize how much I missed it until our little game over breakfast yesterday.
Even now, standing there naked with the gray dress barely covering her breasts and pussy, she faces me squarely, her turquoise eyes locked onto mine. She is vulnerable, but she hides it beneath the veneer of Sedric pride. Perhaps she is more like her family than she realizes.
I allow my gaze to roam her body. I can see the swell of her breasts on either side of the flimsy fabric barrier, the curve of her pale hips, the dip of her waist. She has a tiny mole on her left hip, and I can already imagine how it would feel to track my tongue around it before making my way to her exposed sex.
My cock twitches, and I raise my eyes to meet hers. She still watches me coolly, as if daring me to come any closer. This should ignite my anger; she should, after all, be intimidated by me, her captor. But I still recall the way it felt when she pressed her trembling body against me beneath the comforter, like a wounded bird, and I want to know how it will feel when she comes to me willingly.
Her hair is still damp from the shower. I can smell jasmine and something else that makes my balls throb. Her natural smell perhaps. Or the promise of sex. Because with my eyes lingering on the inviting curve of her breasts, I’m struggling to think of anything else but taking her nipples between my teeth and nibbling on them until she groans with pleasure.
This is proving to be the most enjoyable mission yet, and it’s all thanks to Xander Amory. Perhaps I should send him a thank you note with a lock of Gianna’s hair.
My lips form a smile before I can stop myself.
Still, she doesn’t speak, and I wish I knew what she was thinking.
“How are you feeling?” My eyes track the dark angry bruise on her jaw, and she instinctively juts her chin, still defiant, wearing the mottled stain like a trophy.
“Are you asking because you care?”
She could back away into the bathroom and get dressed in private. She could ask me to turn around while she covers her nakedness with the dress. But she does neither. It occurs to me that Gianna is perhaps still taunting me after her seductive display at breakfast, but if that were the case, she would drop the dress and show me what I’m missing.
No. Gianna Sedric is proving to me that I don’t scare her. She is either very brave or very reckless. I cannot wait to find out which.
“Yes. You are important to me.”
“So important that you ordered Ivana to torture me?”
“I ordered her to teach you a lesson in obedience.” My conversation with Tamara slides back to the forefront of my mind. So long as you and the asset both believe this to be true, then we have nothing to worry about. “I am not here to talk about Ivana.”
“What are you here to talk about?”
“You, Gianna.”
Her expression remains impassive. “Me or my family?”
“You. I already know about your family, but you, my little printzessa, they have kept as secret as the crown jewels. Why is that?”
Her fingers subconsciously clutch the dress tighter to her breasts, and my cock clamors for more. That involuntary gesture tells me all that I need to know: they were saving her like a priceless filly to sell to the highest bidder.
She seems to be holding a debate with herself, the flickering of her eyelids the only giveaway that she is composing her response. Just when I think that she will come back with a sarcastic rebuff, she says, “Because I want nothing to do with the family business.”
“Yet you are engaged to be married to Seamus Mulligan.”
“I…” She chews on her bottom lip, and I can see the way her breathing grows shallow by the indentation between her collarbones. She is clearly not a happy printzessa.
This should make me ecstatically happy. It will be even easier to corrupt her than I had at first imagined because she doesn’t want to marry Seamus. Or is it deeper than that? She doesn’t want to marry into another mafia family. Whatever the origins.
My hands ball into fists. This I can relate to; her family has arranged her marriage, and all she can see ahead of her is a lifetime of bloodshed and obedience. For someone like Gianna Sedric, this would be the worst form of torture, worse than anything that Ivana could inflict upon her. For the second time during our short acquaintance, I question her family’s intentions regarding their youngest daughter.
“Yes. I am getting married to Seamus.”
“Do you love him?” The question takes me by surprise as much as it does Gianna.
She raises her chin, while her eyes still hold mine. “I don’t see how that is any of your business.”
“You are right, of course, it is none of my business. I am simply curious.”
“In your capacity as my captor?” There it is that spark of feistiness that caught me by surprise at our first meeting.
The dynamics between us have changed since I carried her from the cold room, but she is still there, the Gianna who refuses to be broken.
“What else would it be?”
I step inside the room and close the door behind me. Still, she doesn’t even flinch. With calculated movements, I cross the room and stand in front of her.
“Maybe you wonder what it is about Seamus that I find attractive.”
“Indeed.” I smile. I want her to open up to me. Familiarity breeds trust, and if this mission is to be successful, I need her to trust me enough to find me desirable. “Tell me.”
“He is good looking, of course,” she begins.
“Of course.”
“And kind.” I incline my head, waiting for her to come up with something I can believe. “And … protective.”
Protective? That’s what she’s going with?
“He isn’t doing such a great job of protecting you right now.”
The flash of silver is back in her eyes. “Maybe he didn’t expect anyone to drug his bride over a game of Rummy and hold her prisoner in a fucking basement.”
The thought of taming this wildness and molding it to my whim on every available surface in my sizable mansion makes my pulse race. No, Gianna is not destined to marry Seamus Mulligan. She needs a man who can tame her, control her, keep her in check while providing her with everything that her body desires.
I gesture to the comfortable room. “Basement?”
A flash of irritation sparks behind her eyes. “Does Seamus know where I am?”
“He will know when I am ready to tell him.”
“And when will that be?”
“When I am quite certain that you have served your purpose.” My voice is cold. “Because make no mistake, Gianna. I have allowed you into my home and provided you with all the comforts that you might need, but you are here for one reason only.”
“Which is?”
“To help me win.”
“Win?” She shakes her head, her damp curls tumbling forward over her shoulders. “Win what? What are you talking about?”
“You know I can’t tell you that because then I would have to kill you.”
Her eyes harden momentarily. “Isn’t that what you’re going to do anyway?”
“Oh no, printzessa. I have far greater plans for you.”
I reach out and smooth her hair over her shoulder, my knuckles brushing the swell of her left breast. My cock reacts instantly, my blood pumping into my erection. I leave my finger there, the warmth of her skin making it tingle.
I search her face for some kind of reaction and find nothing. She is unreadable. But she doesn’t slap my hand or pull away from me. She swallows hard, and that’s when I can see the amount of self-control it is taking for her to remain so impassive.
“Plans?”
I feel her warm breath on my face. Her cheeks are still flushed and blotchy from the cold room, but her eyes are clear, her lips pink and moist, her chin tilted towards the ceiling. I vow to myself that when I am done with her, she will never look at Seamus Mulligan the way I want her to look at me. She will never beg him to fuck her. She will never beg him to let her come on his tongue.
I am torturing myself with these mental images, but I need this torture to fuel my resolve. Gianna is not one of the high-class escorts who serve my guests at the casino. She isn’t someone I picked up in a bar after a few drinks. She is the daughter of a rival family, sister-in-law of the Sicilian pank who is systematically trying to take me down. I want her to want me. No more, no less.
And when that happens, her presence in my home will no longer be required.
I slide my hand beneath the gray dress that is barely covering her nakedness and cup her breast. Fuck it feels good. Better than I’d even imagined it would feel. She is warm, her skin silky-smooth from her shower, and I can feel the steady da-dum, da-dum, da-dum of her heartbeat.
Her eyes are still locked on mine as if she was waiting for this to happen, as if she knew that me touching her was inevitable from the moment I entered her room.
Her room? My room.
My balls are already heavy for her. I caress her breast with my thumb, gentle circular movements, exploring her silky flesh, her curves, the ripe fullness. She sways slightly, but her eyes give nothing away.
I move closer. Our breaths mingle, her heartbeat strong and steady beneath my hand. And oh, how I would love to spread her legs wide and slide my tongue inside her right now, to taste her sex, to feel her orgasm exploding over my face.
It takes every ounce of self-control that I possess not to snatch the dress away from her, drop to my knees, and suck on her pussy. But that would ruin everything. If I make my move now, I risk incurring her hatred rather than her desire, and this will have all been for nothing.
Patience, Leonid. I can be patient when I need to be.
“Did you touch me?” The whispered question takes me by surprise. “When you undressed me.”
“You were unconscious.”
“So?”
I locate her nipple with my fingertips and tease it, feeling a surge of pleasure in my loins when it instantly hardens. That’s it, there’s a good girl.
“So, I like my women conscious, Gianna. And believe me, if I had, you wouldn’t need to ask. You’d be standing here, begging me for more.”
I lean closer, and her pupils dilate as she peers up at me. Slowly, holding her gaze, I slide the dress from her hands and drop it onto the floor at our feet. I cup her chin gently, tenderly almost, and lower my lips to her mouth. Her lips instantly part and our tongues meet. She doesn’t close her eyes, but instead, she tries to see right through me, as I fill her mouth with my tongue.
Then, when she responds, her own tongue licking my lips, I pull away. With a curt nod, I leave the room, locking the door behind me. I don’t look at her nakedness. I want to. Fuck how I want to. But I need her to trust me.
She knows how easy it would’ve been for me to take advantage of her, and now she also knows that isn’t what I want.
My win.
