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Protecting What's Mine by Jennifer Sucevic (10)

 

“Excuse me?”  I don’t move a muscle.

Eyes still fixed on mine, Matteo enunciates the words more carefully as if I don’t speak English.  “I said, get in.”

The man is delusional.  That’s the only rational explanation I can come up with.  My spine straightens, and I imagine smoke pouring out of my ears as I stand on the sidewalk outside the club.

When I don’t make a move to follow his directives, he sighs loudly in exasperation.  Even when I’m pissed, his accent still has the ability to make me weak in the knees, which irritates the hell out of me.

“Get in the car, Grace.  We’re both going to the same place.  I’ll take you home.  There’s no reason for you to be on the street alone at this hour.”

A shiver scuttles down my spine at the commanding tone.

I’ll take you home.

Prying my eyes away from him, I pray for a taxi to come barreling down the street so that I don’t have to get in the car.  One heartbeat, then two slip by.  And still there’s nothing.

No taxi-cabs in sight.

Feeling desperate, I admit, “I don’t want a ride home from you.”

The man is dangerous.  He makes me lose control.  His dark eyes roaming over me and his big, masculine hands searing me with their heat make me feel so much more alive than I’ve felt in the last two years.

“Bella.”

He coaxingly murmurs the endearment, but it still rings with authority.  A steely determination that will not be denied and cannot be ignored.  Bossiness should not be an attractive quality.

But with Matteo…

It is.

Feeling the pressure of his demand beating down upon me, I start to fidget.

How does he do that?

How is he able to make me feel as though I need to follow his edicts when we’re barely acquainted?

It’s maddening.

I’m tempted to walk away, but something deep inside me demands that I respond.

Demands that I… oh God… acquiesce.

Which only pisses me off further.  I’d rather walk home at this point.  My eyes flick to the heels I’m wearing.  Clearly, those will have to go.  Looks like I might be hoofing it home barefoot tonight. 

“You have approximately thirty seconds before I get out of this limo.”

My eyes jerk to his in surprise.  He doesn’t finish the threat.  But then again, he doesn’t have to.  My mind cartwheels with possibilities.

I may not know him well, but I understand that he’s not a man who throws out idle threats.

Making a snap decision, I stalk toward the long, sleek black car.  I just want to go home.  It doesn’t escape me that he’s the reason I cut my evening short in the first place, and now I’m going to be locked inside the cabin with him for the duration of this drive.

As I climb into the limo, he slides across the plush leather to make room for me.  Because I’m wearing a short dress, I carefully lower myself onto the seat before a driver comes around to close the door.

I avoid looking directly at Matteo as the vehicle pulls away from the curb, maneuvering through late night traffic.  Worrying my lower lip, I’m keenly aware of the distance between our bodies.  It’s not nearly enough.  I can’t get any closer to the door.  I’m practically smashed against it.

Perhaps he’s tired as well, and we can just ride together in companionable silence.

Instead of allowing that to happen, he snakes an arm across the back of my seat.  His fingertips graze the top of my shoulder.  Every single one of my muscles locks up.  It feels like my flesh is being singed.  I do my best to ignore him, but I can feel his dark gaze burning into me.

The cologne he’s wearing wraps around me until I’m dizzy from the heady scent of it.  Until something settles in my core, making it impossible to sit on the plush leather seat without clenching my thighs in an effort to alleviate some of the pressure building within me.

“Grace…”

My name rolls off his lips like a seductive caress.  That slight Italian accent makes me want to swoon.

I stay still.  At this point, I’m barely breathing.  Maybe he’ll give up if I continue to ignore him.  We’ll arrive at the building soon, and I can bolt out of the car as if the hounds of hell are snapping at my heels.

One long finger slips under my chin, and he slowly turns my head.  A slight smirk quirks his lips.  His eyes are heavy-lidded.  At half-mast.

“Tell me, what exactly are you trying to accomplish with this behavior?”

The strange question makes my brows jerk together.  My words come out sounding hoarse.  “Excuse me?”

He doesn’t release my chin as I continue holding his hypnotically intense gaze.  “Are you trying to stir my interest?  Because it’s not necessary, bella.  It’s already been stirred.”

My eyes widen as his meaning sinks in.

Good Lord, no!

Is that what he thinks?

That I want him chasing after me?  That this is some sort of game on my part?

I don’t want that at all!

This man is way out of my league, and I know it.  I’m under no illusions as to how something between us would end.

Instead of setting him straight, I ask a question of my own to remind him that he wasn’t at the club alone tonight.  Maybe I need some reminding as well.  “What happened to the woman you were with?”

My words come out sounding petulant.  As if I’m jealous.

Which I’m not.

At all.

Okay, maybe a teeny bit. 

His eyelids lower as he continues to study me.

He murmurs, “I’m not as interested in fucking her as I originally thought.”  Releasing my chin, he trails his fingers down my neck and chest before caressing the outer curve of my breast.  His slight touch makes my nipples tighten.

“Turns out there’s someone else I’d rather fuck instead.”  His voice dips lower, growing more seductive.  “I could make you feel very, very good.”  His fingers travel downward, grazing the side of my belly before settling on my hip.  Giving a little squeeze, his hand skates along my outer thigh.  Shifting toward me, he closes the distance between us.  “Wouldn’t you like me to give you another orgasm?”

All of the oxygen is sucked from the cabin of the limo.  It leaves me gasping in shock.

His dark eyes sparkle as his lips curve mischievously.  “Only this time, I’ll actually be touching you when it happens.”

His fingers slowly glide toward my inner thigh before stroking upward.

Oh God…  I need to stop this madness immediately.  I need to still his fingers before they go any higher.

But I don’t.

His low voice is like warm, decadent honey.  The way he watches me from behind the fringe of thick black lashes makes me feel like a fly trapped in the silken web of a spider.  I can’t break free from the trance holding me immobilized.  The way he strokes my flesh leaves me breathless.

And wanting more.

“Did you think I couldn’t hear you?”

I say nothing.

I can’t.

He growls.  His eyelids continue to lower as if he’s remembering, savoring the noises I’d made.  “Your breathy little moans made my cock rock hard.”

Using his wrist, he pushes against my thighs, widening them until he’s able to touch my panties.  Then he draws delicate little circles against my clit.

One touch.

That’s all it takes.

I knew it would be like this with him.  Moaning, my head lolls against the butter-soft leather.

“Take your panties off, bella.  Now.”

The words don’t faze me as much as they should because I’m operating on autopilot.  I don’t think about the harsh demand.  Because that’s exactly what it is.  He’s not asking.  He’s telling.  Without weighing the consequences of my actions, I shimmy out of the underwear.  He waits with his hand stretched out in expectation.

Why is that so sexy?

I set the wispy scrap of lace in his palm, and he immediately stuffs the material into the pocket of his suit jacket.  His eyes never leave mine.

I fleetingly realize that I won’t see them again.

Then his fingers are back on me, stroking up my inner thigh.  This time he doesn’t have to pry my legs apart.  They’re already spread, eagerly awaiting his touch.  I hold my breath as he inches closer, pushing my dress up as he moves.

Higher.

Higher still.

Until it’s bunched across my lap, and I know that my pussy lips are on full display when the cool air in the limo hits them.  His eyes slowly lower to my spread legs.

“Beautiful.”

  He touches me with strong, sure strokes.  Ones that leave me trembling on the seat, desperate for more.  I can’t stop a moan of pleasure from escaping when his blunt-tipped fingers dip inside my warmth.

It’s been so long since I’ve had a man touch me.

“Did you enjoy listening to us fuck?”

I bite my lower lip to stifle another moan.  I don’t want him to have my sounds of pleasure.  He’s already taking what he wants from me.  I don’t want to give him anything more.

But his words are so deliciously dirty.

They turn me on more than I thought possible.

“Did you imagine that I was fucking you instead?”

My teeth sink into my lower lip in an effort to remain silent.  I don’t want to tell him the truth.  When I say nothing, he pulls his hand away and slowly caresses the outer edges of my lower lips.  Eager for more contact, I widen my legs, practically arching off the seat so I can feel his tantalizing fingers coast over my flesh again.

Needing more, a desperate whimper escapes.

His voice turns harsh.  “Did you imagine that I was fucking you instead?”

His fingers continue to skate over my softness, toying with me.  He knows what I want, but refuses to give it to me.  Unable to hold it in any longer, I groan.  I’m on the verge of splintering apart into a million jagged pieces. 

“Yes,” I finally whisper.

As soon as the word falls from my lips, he thrusts his fingers back inside me before circling my clit with my own wetness.  I nearly scream, it feels so good.  Everything inside me tightens as an orgasm builds. 

“Do you know how sexy it was to hear you?  To know that you were touching yourself while you listened to me fuck?”

It’s difficult to imagine that he was even aware of me while screwing another woman. 

With masterful fingers, he continues strumming my aching clit.  The low murmur of his deep, sensual voice pushes me toward the precipice of release.

“That night, I made two women come.”

Those words are what send me careening over the edge.  I throw my head back and scream as he pumps his thick fingers in and out of me.  He doesn’t stop stroking until he’s wrung every last drop of pleasure from my body.  Until I can do nothing more than lay in an exhausted heap on the seat next to him, breathing hard and ignoring the fact that my dress is hiked up and my lower lips are swollen from his ministrations.

When he removes his hand from between my legs, I slit my eyes partially open and watch as he sticks his fingertips in his mouth before sucking them.

“I knew you would taste just as delicious as you looked.”

I didn’t believe it possible, but those words instantly make my core throb back to life.

I whimper as a pleased smile spreads across his handsome face.

 

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