Page 7 of Contracted

“I want you all to myself,” he interjected. “I don’t want those buffoons to overhear...anything.”

My skin tingled even as my soul shriveled a little. What kind of noises would his men have overheard? Screams of pain or ecstasy?

“And they’re still keeping guard, just not right at the front of my door.”

I relaxed a little. He wouldn’t have stayed alive for as long as he had without being careful.

He bent and placed me on my feet, his hair sliding forward. “I liked you in my arms.”

“I liked being in your arms,” I admitted huskily. Especially with my legs now so shaky and unbalanced. I clung onto his forearm, my laugh strained, nervous. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have had that drink.”

He cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowed. “What’s really going on, Delilah?”

Chapter Four

Serafino

She shook her head, though I noted a glint of reservation in her eyes as she said, “It’s nothing, really. You’re paying too much for me to question...anything.”

I resisted jerking a fistful of my hair and showcasing my frustration. I’d cured myself of the habit I’d developed as a boy when I’d been unable—unwilling—to communicate my emotions. As an adult I was far more controlled, until this woman had swept the rug out from under my feet. “I’m not going to hurt you, that is the last thing I want.”

She blinked, her eyes going from guarded to soft and dewy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin our moment.” She sighed abstractedly. “I’m meant to be your biggest fantasy.”

“You are my biggest fantasy.” Words that wouldn’t normally make it out of my mouth were pouring out like notes from an instrument. “And I’ve already said I want the real you, which includes any fears or reservations you might have.”

I could only thank the stars I’d saved her from my brothers’ passion. They wouldn’t have held back, and normally, neither would I, but this woman brought out my protective instincts and something deeper I refused to contemplate.

I’d focus on taking care of her and pleasuring her by any method necessary, if that included pain to turn her on, then so be it. And didn’t that make me the biggest contradictive prick to walk on the planet.

I reached out and clasped her chin. “No more talking,” I rasped. “I want you in my bed.”

She stared up at me with her mysterious green eyes, her gorgeous hair reminding me of something between red wine and blood. A firebird. Her shimmering, silver dress that bared more than it covered was undoubtedly expensive, yet I yearned to swathe her in priceless gowns that were for my eyes only.

I hardly knew her and yet I was already obsessed. That I cared less should have troubled me more, but in that moment I would have sacrificed almost anything just to be with her.

Then I clasped her hand and drew her with me past my sitting room, my kitchen and dining room, then down a short hallway that led to my office on one side and my master bedroom on the other.

I pushed open my bedroom door. I only hoped she appreciated my masculine touch, where dark-stained cherry wood featured in the wall paneling behind my hand carved bedhead. Gray blinds and a matching comforter were the only color aside from some splashes of white thanks to my pillowcases and the huge black-and-white abstract artwork on my wall that was a swirl of the two contrary colors that ended in a scattering of spots that looked more like stars.

I pulled her to me and stripped off her dress. I lost my breath at seeing her in nothing more than a silver thong and a strapless bra that barely covered her plump tits. My mouth watered. I wanted to suck her nipples and her clit. I wanted to stick my tongue inside her mouth and her pussy, tasting every part of her until she was a part of me.

Instead I stepped toward a small round table where I kept my whiskey, a crystal tumbler and a remote. I chose the remote and pressed a button, soulful music springing into life from hidden, surround-sound speakers. I watched her with heavy-lidded eyes. “Dance for me.”

She didn’t hesitate. She was bold and brazen as she held my stare, and oh so fucking sexy as she lifted her arms and curled them over her head, her hips swaying from side-to-side as she moved to the sensual beat.

I groaned, my cock so hard it bordered on painful. I’d never seen anything so damn arousing in all my life. She intoxicated me and I couldn’t get enough. She could have been made for me, everything about her utter perfection. Then she slowly turned around as she continued swaying, her butt all but bared with just her thong’s narrow string covering her crack.

A burning wave of need hit me harder than ever. Had she ever been taken up the ass? Of course she had, her clients would have requested that all too often.

And that’s all you are, a client. You’re no more special to her than any other man, except you paid a hell of a lot more for the privilege to fuck her.

A growl tore from my throat as something too close to rage built inside me. I was a pressure cooker of withheld emotions and needs. I stalked back toward her, my conscience deserting me as I yanked her to me, then ripped off her bra. As her tits tumbled free and she gasped at my sudden ire, her green eyes wide and burning with fear and excitement, the beast inside me grew even more powerful.

“Don’t. Move.” I kneeled at her feet and took off her shoes, tossing each one aside before I rolled down her stockings and discarded them. Her legs were slender and toned, her toenails shimmering with silver polish. I stuck my thumbs under the thong’s string that sat on her hips, then pulled it down, my lust increasing tenfold as I bared her hairless pussy to my greedy eyes.

My mouth dried as I scented her slick wetness that enhanced her rare orchid and dark plum scent. Fuck. I was going to take her again and again tonight. I was going to fuck her so long and so hard she really wouldn’t remember the other men who’d paid for her services.

She stepped out of her thong, completely nude now. I looked up at her as I brought the scrap of material to my face and inhaled its scent. “I want to learn every part of you,” I said hoarsely.

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