Page 43 of Devil's Tulip

Her spine arches cleanly off the desk, shoving her tit deeper into my mouth as she yells to the roof,cumming.

It takes a couple of hours to make the arrangements for my private jet to be flown down to the rainy city—and even more hours to get it fueled for the ride back to Manhattan. I spend the time in between making phone calls, handling business…

And scrolling through my video feeds, watching Gianna sleep.

She looks so peaceful. So fucking perfect.

By the time I get the confirmation that the jet is ready, I hesitate. Iloathethe idea of waking her.

Still, I’m eager to get back to Manhattan.

Because the second we land, I’m declaring hermine.

And Rafael is going to know she’s off–limits.

14

GIANNA

Walking down the hallway back to my room without stumbling takes every ounce of strength I possess. My legs feel boneless, my joints all liquid from that powerful orgasm.

I press a hand over my still-racing heart as I open the door and slip inside.Without Michael.But honestly, despite craving more, I’m secretly grateful for the space. As much as I wanted him to follow me here—to pin me to the mattress and pick up right where we left off—I needed some distance from him.

I’ve had sex before—twice, with the same man—and both times I thought I knew what satisfaction felt like. But those experiences pale in comparison to what just happened with Michael. And we didn’t even have actual sex. Yet.

My pulse kicks up just thinking about it as I collapse face-first on the bed.

If I hadn’t stopped him, we would have had explosive sex right there on his desk. But I’m not on birth control, and no matter how much pleasure he gave me—and will give me—I’m not about to risk getting pregnant. Not now when my entire life is up in the air, and I have literally no idea what will happen tomorrow.

I groan into the pillow, turning to my side—then suck in a breath when a sharp pulse of pleasure shoots through me. My clit throbs, overly sensitive from being pressed into the mattress.

Holy shit.

The wet, sticky mess coated between my thighs is all the proof I need of how hard I came. But now that I’ve had a taste of him,literally, I’m left wanting more.

Needingmore.

God, and Michael… he got nothing. No relief at all. And his erection looked painful as hell. A twinge of guilt hits me. I thought for sure he’d take me to his room and finish the both of us off, but that call he got seemed to make him realize what he was about to do. It was like somethingclickedin his head.

I sigh and roll onto my back, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Who was that on the other end of that call?

Not that it matters anyway. He stopped. Which means I need to keep seducing him. Keep teasing him, keep pushing him, until we actually have sex. That’s when he can truly become mine and be too invested to take me back to Uncle Aldo.

At least, that’s the plan. But the more I push, the more he gets under my skin.

He’s just so much. So handsome, so expressive when he wants to be, and so explosively powerful.

I sigh longingly—then immediately shake myself. The seductress has become seduced. And if I’m not careful…

What if, in my mission to make sure Michael falls for me… I end up falling for him instead?

No. No way. That can’t happen. It must not.

But…

I turn to my side, absently tracing my swollen lips with my fingertips, my mind spiraling into dangerous fantasies—scenarios of when I finally get Michael to fall in love with me.

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