Page 7 of De Luca: The Saint

I finish a bite of my salad and flash him a grin, “Are you always so,” I look to the ceiling as if it’ll provide the word I’m looking for, “dominating?”

Again, he stares at me with the intensity of a thousand-degree fire, “Yes. I am always this dominating, Kitty Kat. Everything. Now.”

I blow out a cleansing breath, “Fine. My parents live in Las Vegas, where I’m from. I always dreamed of going to law school but I’m sure you can figure out that didn’t happen.”

He continues eating, but his eyes don’t leave my face. In between bites, he asks, “Why not?”

I shrug, “Money. I couldn’t even afford community college let alone law school. Not everybody,” I wave my hand around, “has all this.”

He sets his fork on his plate, eyeing me cautiously, “Kat, are you angry with me because I have money?”

I sigh audibly as I force the tears away, “Of course not. I’m sorry. You won’t understand but I don’t like being around all this money. It makes me feel less than. Like, I’m not good enough to even be here. I should go.”

I rise and turn to walk to the elevator, but he’s quicker, stopping me before I can even press the button, “Goddamn it, Kat. Stop.”

“Why am I even here, Damian?”

I can’t for the life of me figure out why he’s even wasting his time with me. This man is insanely hot, Greek God status, powerful, Damian could get any woman he wants. What does he need me for? Standing before me, his dark intense eyes zero in on mine. His hair hangs to his nape, one little stubborn piece hanging on his forehead. I want to run my fingers through it, but I won’t. My gaze scans what I can see of his body. A skull tattoo on his neck, but the rest of his chest is hidden under a black button-down dress shirt. With his sleeves rolled up to his elbows I get a glimpse of what must be full sleeves. More skulls and roses. It’s like a balancing act of sweet and sinful, good and evil. He raises his hands and places them on either side of my face, “I don’t know, Kat. You’re not less than, you’re more than. You’re too good for me. You think I don’t know that? Fuck, Kitty Kat, I know this is wrong and is going to end badly. That doesn’t stop me from wanting you like a dog wants a bone.”

“Damian,” I breathe.

He runs his thumb along my bottom lip, “Jesus Kat. You’re so fucking beautiful it almost hurts to look at you.”

How can such a dangerous man say something so sweet? Is it possible to take the one side and ignore the other? No, it’s not. Sweet words and a pretty package don’t change the person. I don’t know all there is to know about the De Luca brothers, but I know they’re dangerous.

Damian leans forward and presses his lips to mine.

I know I should stop him, instead, I part my lips, accepting his tongue into my mouth and wrapping my arms around his neck. His kiss is sweet and slow at first until it becomes hungry and demanding.

He moves his hands from my face to my neck and into my hair while his tongue dances with mine. He tastes like whiskey and a faint hint of smoke, and it’s intoxicating.

I feel his hard length pressing up against my stomach, causing butterflies and apprehension at the same time.

Damian pulls back, “I need you, Kat. Fuck. I need you.”

I shake my head, “No. I can’t.”

He lets go of me and runs a hand through his hair, his expression says he’s confused, and I know he’s not used to a woman saying no, “Tell me you don’t have a boyfriend.”

I giggle, “No boyfriend.”

Relief floods his expression, “Then what is it, Kitty Kat? Whatever it is, I’ll make it go away.”

I roll my eyes, “Damian, I don’t do this. Obviously, you do but I don’t. I’m not experienced. Honestly, I wouldn’t even know what to do.”

He drags his hand up the center of my body, “Kitty Kat, if you don’t want me to fuck you, I won’t. Jesus baby, let me taste you. Let me make you feel good. I need your taste on my tongue.”

Damian leans in and runs his tongue along my neck, tugging on my earlobe with his teeth he growls, “One night. Let me taste you. I’ll make you feel so fucking good.”

I moan, his mouth on me, has my core burning with need. I should say no, stop this while I can but I don’t, “Fine. Just tonight. Tomorrow, we go back to being professional.”

He grabs my ass with both hands and squeezes, “Whatever you say, Kitty Kat.”

I’m not sure if he’s agreeing to my terms or brushing it off. I don’t have time to think about it.

He drops to his knees as I gape at him, “What are you doing?”

Reaching up, he unzips my skirt and lets it fall to the floor, “I’m going to taste that pretty little cunt.”

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