I once prepared a picnic for Elena. I was going to propose to her. My mother said that a picnic would be romantic, the way to impress a woman.
Maybe some women, but it didn’t impress Elena.
She complained that she was uncomfortable sitting on a blanket on the ground.
She complained that she could hear a wasp buzzing around the food even though it was covered, and the only insect I saw was a delicate dragonfly.
She complained that the champagne didn’t stay chilled in the heat of the sun, and that she didn’t bring sunblock with her, and that, if she’d known, she’d have worn something practical.
Gianna squeals with delight when she realizes that I’ve prepared a picnic. She pulls her hand from mine and runs to the blanket, dropping to her knees and throwing her arms around Marvel’s neck before murmuring, “Shall we see what we’ve got?”
She opens the basket, peering inside at the tiny dishes of caviar and pâté, the triangles of toasted bread, the ripe tomatoes and the sweet tuiles curled into slender rolls and dipped in chocolate.
She looks at me with wide eyes. “Did you prepare this food?”
“Would you believe me if I said yes?”
She smiles. “Probably not.”
I open the champagne with a gentle pop and half-fill two glasses, handing one to Gianna.
“Okay.” Her expression is serious. “What’s this all for?”
“I want to prove to you that I’m not the monster you think I am.”
She sips her champagne and watches me closely. “I never said you were a monster.”
“You only thought it then.”
Her laughter hits me somewhere deep inside. There isn’t enough laughter in my life.
“A monster with a sense of humor.” She clinks her glass against mine. “You forgot something very important though.”
“What?”
“You didn’t bring any food for Marvel.”
I smile. “He can lick my fingers.” It seems that whenever I am with Gianna, all that comes out of my mouth is sexual innuendos.
“Can I?” She slants her eyes at me and my cock responds like a dog sniffing a bone.
“I can give you something better to lick.”
She is my prisoner. I’m supposed to be corrupting her so that I can hand her back to her family the tainted printzessa. An experienced woman rather than the naïve virgin who boarded the plane in Montenegro. So, why the fuck do my balls fill up at the image of my cock in her mouth?
This was not part of the plan. But watching her sip champagne with her legs curled underneath her on the picnic blanket, Marvel sitting attentively by her side, I know that the plan is fucked.
New plan. To sample all that Gianna Sedric has to offer and then make sure that she knows how fucking special she is. Because I don’t think anyone has ever told her before. Sure, she knows how important she is to her father, how important this arranged marriage to Seamus Mulligan is, but important isn’t the same as special.
It’s a million fucking miles away from special.
“Is that a promise?” Her cheeks are flushed, and it only makes her look more beautiful. She literally has no idea how goddamned sexy she is, or what she does to me.
“Gianna, I don’t want you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.”
“Did I look uncomfortable to you yesterday?”
I smile. “You understand what I’m saying. I brought you here against your will.”
“I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about.”
That isn’t what worries me. I don’t care about her father, Xander, or Seamus. All that matters to me is that she wants me as badly as I want her. This plan is veering wildly off-track, but like an aircraft without a pilot, I’m powerless to stop it.
I lean forward and kiss her, and her lips instinctively part to let me in. Until a slobbery tongue takes out my chin and hers, and we barely rescue our champagne glasses from destruction-by-Belgian-shepherd.
Once we have Marvel back under control, Gianna asks me why I kept him.
“He followed me around. It took about five minutes for me to accept that he was never going to leave my side. So, I gave him a name, a collar, and a bed, and figured that I’d finally found the one who would never let me down.”
She averts her eyes, but I’ve already seen the pity in them.
“This life isn’t all bad,” I say.
She pops a chocolate-coated tuile into her mouth, starting the meal with dessert. “So, you enjoy intimidating people with weapons and threats and the zeroes in your bank accounts.”
“Is that a question?”
“No, it’s the name of a pop song. Yes, it’s a question.”
“Enjoyment doesn’t enter into it.”
“Why do you do it then?” She puts down her empty glass and scoops caviar onto a triangle of toasted bread. “And before you give me the standard explanation I-have-no-choice response, maybe give it some thought.”
I chuckle. “Did you have a choice when you got engaged to Seamus Mulligan?”
“Do you always answer a question with another question? Or are you hoping that I’ll shut up and eat?”
“I’m assuming that your answer is no.” I refill her glass and hand it to her. Our fingers meet around the stem, burning my skin. “I do it because I’m the eldest son. I can’t walk away and watch my father’s legacy fall apart. He dedicated his life to building his empire. For me. It’s what—”
“Stop right there.” She raises her index finger like a child who knows the answer to the teacher’s question. “He did not build his empire for you. You know that, right?”
“Is this a trick question to distract me when you take the last sweet treat?”
Gianna shakes her head and ignores me. “Your father built his empire because it was what he wanted. He wasn’t thinking of you when he gave an order to shoot a member of the Sicilian mob, or the Italians, or the Irish. He wasn’t thinking of you when he endangered the lives of his family. Same as my father wasn’t thinking of me when he arranged my marriage to Seamus.”
Her voice trails off as if she has run out of steam.
Everything she just said is true, I know this. But my reasons remain the same. I do what I do because it is what’s expected of me. I wasn’t raised to have fun at work. I was raised to get the job done.
“My mom was killed by one of my father’s enemies.” She confesses.
Her voice has faded to a whisper, and she doesn’t look at me. Instead, she tracks the whimsical journey of an insect that seems to have taken a liking to Marvel.
“I know he never meant for it to happen,” she continues. “He never wanted his kids to grow up without a mom, but he knew the risks, and he chose the family legacy over the people he loved.”
When she turns her face to me, her eyes are large with tears.
“Melissa found her. Can you imagine that? Can you imagine your own daughter finding your dead body? She was never the same again after that. It was like she went from being my sister who loved to dress up and experiment with her hair and makeup to this person who’d forgotten what it’s like to play. It’s the reason why she doesn’t like the color red, because of the blood…”
I don’t even think about what I’m doing. I pull her into my arms and hold her close to my chest while the tears flow down her cheeks. We stay that way until the sky starts leaking shades of violet and indigo and our shadows disappear.
Then, I take my jacket off and slip it around her shoulders to stop the shivers racking her body, and we walk back to the house in silence.
My men head discreetly inside the property when they see us coming. They know better than to question my authority with regards to Gianna, but I cannot stop them questioning my authority in general. I might just have to call a meeting to remind them that no man is an island. Isn’t that how the poem goes?
No man is made entirely of stone either. I might’ve argued this point a week ago, before I met Gianna Sedric. But I feel myself softening like butter left in the sun with every day that passes. I’m going to need some serious sessions in the gym when her time here is done.
We stop at the kitchen to hand Marvel over to Olga for his supper. His tail wags for food, and he turns his back on us without a second thought, fickle animal. But I can’t blame him for that. He and food didn’t exactly get off to a great start, and he will never lose that instinct to eat whenever he can.
The closer we get to Gianna’s guest room, the more oppressive the house feels. Like the walls are closing in on me. Perhaps she senses it too because she pulls away from me and puts a respectable distance between us as though she is afraid that someone might see us together.
On impulse, I take her hand and lead her to a different part of the property. The part that contains my bedroom.
“Where are you taking me?”
I don’t like the fear in her voice. In fact, fear is the last thing I want to hear or see when I’m with Gianna.
I stop walking and force her to look me in the eye. “Do you trust me?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?” She gives me a lopsided smile.
“I prepared a picnic.” Jeez, that sounds lame even to me. “I won’t even complain about you turning my dog’s head.”
This gains a real smile from her.
“So, I’m just going to say this once. I want you, Gianna. I want you in my bed tonight, but I understand if this isn’t what you want. Just say the word. Tell me right now that this isn’t what you want, and I’ll take you back to your room. I won’t stop you from walking Marvel, but we’ll spend no more time together.”
I realize that I’m giving her an ultimatum: be mine or turn around and walk away. But this is as much for my protection as it is hers. It’s the only way I can do this. I can’t be this close to her knowing that she isn’t mine.
“Do you mean that?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck! I let myself get too cocky. After the way she exploded on my face yesterday, I was confident that she would agree. I forgot that she’s only here because of me and because of the fucking Sicilian, Xander Amory.
“Yes, no fucking around now, Gianna. This is your last chance to walk away. But if you say yes, there’s no turning back. You’re mine to do with as I please.”
“Yours?” She leans closer, so close that my lips are drawn to hers like a magnet.
“Mine. Be warned, I protect what’s mine with my life, but fuck with me and I’ll—”
Her lips meet mine. Her tongue finds its way between my lips, and I can taste champagne on her. Champagne and chocolate and the promise of unfettered uninhibited sex.
I swing her up into my arms and practically run to my room. I don’t care about the cameras set up high in the corners of the ceiling. I don’t care that my security staff will be watching us right now.
Once inside, I kick the door shut behind me and lower Gianna onto my bed. I undress her slowly. She’s wearing plain white underwear that I shouldn’t even register, but on her they make me pause, sliding my hands up and down her body, devouring her with my eyes.
I push the vest up over her breasts, soak up the sight of her pink nipples. I trace lines down her stomach with my fingertips, hooking them inside the panties, and exposing her sex slowly. I drag them over her hips, toss them aside.
My cock throbs and twitches inside my pants, but I ignore it. Focus on Gianna.
She watches me watching her.
“Te takaya krasivaya. You’re so beautiful.”
She smiles, and her eyes glitter. I lay down beside her and close her eyelids with my kisses.
“Don’t watch, just feel and enjoy.”
I start with her ears. I nibble the delicate lobes, push my tongue inside her ear, my cock reacting when her nipples stand to attention. With my tongue, I trace her jawline where the bruises are starting to fade, down her neck, her collarbone, her breasts. Down and down, between her ribs to her flat stomach, leaving her nipples wanting, for now.
It isn’t enough for me to have her for the night. I need to claim her. Make her mine.
I suck the flesh around her belly button, creating a band of tiny dots just beneath the surface. Branding her where no one else will see but me and Gianna. She will look in the mirror and she will know.
I drag my tongue down to her sex, teasing her with the tip. She purrs like a cat and spreads her legs, inviting me in.
“Not yet, my printzessa. Be patient.”
Holding her legs still, I continue to track my tongue down her inner thighs, to the sensitive flesh behind her knees, and down to her ankles, the soles of her feet. Kneeling on the end of the bed, I raise her right leg and suck her toes, one at a time, licking the flesh between them until I can see the slickness on her sex.
Still, she keeps her eyes closed.
“You like this, printzessa?”
“Yes.”
“You want more?”
“Yes.” It comes out as a gasp.
“Tell me.”
Her eyes fly open. She sees the warning look on my face and closes them again. “I want more.”
“More what?” When she doesn’t answer immediately, I bark, “More what, Gianna? If you don’t tell me what you want, how can I pleasure you?”
A brief smile dances across her lips. “I want… I want you to lick me.”
“Where? Where do you want me to lick you?”
My cock is knocking to be set free now, but I need to hear her say it. No one has ever wanted me in this way, and I already know that my orgasm, when I’m done giving Gianna what she wants, will be explosive.
“Between my legs.”
I smile. “Here?” I push her thighs open and backwards, kneel between her legs, and lick the flesh on her inner thigh.
“No, not there.”
“Where then? Show me, Gianna.”
“Show you?” Her eyelids flicker open again, but when she realizes that I’m still watching her, she squeezes them shut. Then she touches her pussy with her fingertips. “Here.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Lick me.”
“Like this?” I drag my tongue across her clit and pull away.
Gianna gasps. “Yes.”
“You like this, huh?”
“Yes, I like this.”
“How much do you like it, printzessa? Show me.”
“What?”
I find her hand and guide it back to her wet pussy. “Show me what you want me to do.”
“I…” She shakes her head against the pillow. “I don’t—”
“Yes, you do, Gianna. You know exactly what you want me to do, and now you’re going to show me.”
I release her hand, and she inserts a finger tentatively between her flaps. She starts rubbing her wetness around her clit, teasing it, making it engorged. Two fingers. I watch her, my erection still growing.
“Good girl.”
When her breathing becomes ragged, I remove her hand and insert my tongue in its place. “You’re dripping, Gianna. I can get drunk on your juices.”
“Lick me, Leonid…”
“Louder. I need to hear how much you want me.”
“Please, Leonid, lick me.”
I push my tongue inside her and rub her clit with my fingers. She’s throbbing. Spasming. I open her thighs as wide as they will go, needing to get deep inside her, her pleasure fueling my own burning desire.
“Like this?” I gaze at her body. Her back is arched, her breasts thrust forward, her breaths coming in short, shallow pants.
“Yes. Don’t stop!”
I insert two fingers inside her and suck her clit until her orgasm explodes. Her body writhes and wriggles, but I grip her thighs tightly and keep right on sucking and probing. Her orgasm keeps right on coming too. She covers her face with a pillow, drowning in the moment.
I pull away and take off my clothes.
Gianna tosses the pillow aside and watches me, a dreamy smile on her face, her body limp. Her eyes widen when my cock springs free.
“It’s all yours, Gianna. Come and get it.”
She rolls onto her stomach and crawls across the bed towards me, like a cat on the prowl, and my pulse starts racing. She literally has no idea how fucking sexy she is.
Wrapping her hand around the base of my cock, she licks the head, watching me the whole time. Round and around, her tongue licks the precum oozing from me and then she wraps her lips around the head, her teeth biting gently into the sensitive flesh.
“You can take more than that, Gianna.” I entwine my fingers in her hair and hold her steady, pushing myself into her gently. She gags, and tears well in her eyes. “Good girl.”
She closes her eyes, and I guide her deeper onto me. Her mouth is warm and wet. Her teeth are gentle. But she has my blood simmering through my veins, and I need to be inside her. The need to fill her up is more than I can bear.
I tilt her head backwards, slide my cock out of her mouth, and rub the head around her lips. “Taste me, Gianna.” She licks her lips, those wide turquoise eyes holding my gaze.
In one fluid movement, I flip her over so that she is on all fours on the bed and drag her ass towards me. Her pussy is even more goddamned beautiful from behind. I open her velvety folds and lick her again, getting her ready for me, then I lean over her, and ease my cock gently inside her.
“You’re so fucking tight, Gianna,” I whisper into her ear.
I push further, hitting the wall, my cock throbbing against her. I knew she was a virgin—this is why she was promised to Seamus—but it hits me right now just what she is prepared to lose to me here.
“If I keep going, you’re mine, printzessa.” My breathing is shallow now. She knows what I want, but it’s her choice.
“Keep going, Leonid.”
This is music to my ears. I push harder. My cock is dripping with her juices. “Say it again. Tell me you want me.”
“I want you.” She twists her face around to meet mine, and we kiss, her tongue pushing into my mouth.
I push harder, gripping her hips and pulling her onto me. And then I’m through the wall. I feel a gush of warm wetness, and she groans against my mouth. Then she pushes herself backwards onto me, and my thrusts grow more urgent.
With one hand, I grip her hair, our kisses becoming needy, impatient. She whimpers, and I slam into her, feeling my explosion through every inch of my body. And when I come, we collapse forward into a tangled heap of sweaty limbs on top of the comforter, her pussy squeezing around me as if she is trying to hold me inside her.
