Page 41 of Ruthless Mr. Ricco
The throaty rumble in his voice arrows straight to my core.I grit my teeth as my arousal dampens my panties.
My threadbare, basic cotton panties.Mortification rolls through me as I recall how faded the floral pattern has become.I bought the variety pack so long ago I already threw away the solid-colored pairs because I’d worn holes in them.
“Fine, now go sit down,” I say through gritted teeth.
When no sound of movement filters through the screen, I peek around the side and confirm his location.With his large frame taking up half the couch, he lifts a brow at me.I duck back behind the partition, unnerved at how silently he moved.
I change into the first outfit and marvel at the buttery soft fabric.The cut of the pantsuit accentuates my curves while remaining comfortable enough for all-day wear.I smooth my hair down and roll my shoulders back before striding out from behind the partition.
Despite my best attempts to ignore him, my senses tune to Matteo’s response.He leans back against the cushions and crosses his arms over his chest.Other than his eyes roaming over me, I don’t know whether to interpret his reaction as good or bad, so I focus on my reflection.
I love it.The color, fit, and style make me feel like a professional powerhouse.
Matteo rises from the couch.The hairs on my nape rise.He stalks to the display shelf built into the wall, selects a few accessories, and strides toward me.The heels hanging from his hooked fingers mock me, but my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth when he drops to a knee in front of me and circles his thick fingers around my ankle.I use the mirror for balance as he replaces my bulky cotton sock with a disposable nylon one and fits the shoe onto my foot.
As he does the same to my other foot, blurry visions flash through my memory.
He wiped my legs clean after I climbed onto the table during our class reunion.
When he caresses my calf through my pants, my throat thickens.
He’s the only one in my adult life who has taken care of me.Despite my harsh words and adamance that we’ll never work, he treats me as though I’m the delicate rabbit he claims I am.He treated my bruised arm, applied cream to my burned face, held my hair back while I vomited, and cleaned my legs when I was too drunk to notice.
I clear my throat as he places my foot on the floor and rises.
The low heel doesn’t disrupt my balance like I feared, and the padded soles add support my regular dress shoes lack.
Shock rolls through me when he closes a necklace around my throat, fastens a bracelet around my wrist, and pulls the ponytail out of my hair.When he closes my fist around the handle of a designer laptop tote, I shove it back toward him, but he turns me toward the mirror and steps away.
Despite my generous salary, I will never be able to afford this outfit if I want to get my revenge in the next decade.
But I look amazing.
Without a word, Matteo takes the bag, jewelry, and shoes.
“Next,” he says as he settles back onto the couch.
The next suit comes with both a pair of pants and a skirt.I hate the cropped blazer, but I pull it on before changing into the pants.A small sound escapes the back of my throat as I realize how deep the pockets are.With wide legs and a high waist, they compliment the blazer so well I change my mind.
When I step in front of the mirror, I can’t reconcile the woman staring back at me with the body I’ve lugged around for twenty-nine years.She’s gorgeous, stylish, and elegant in a take-no-shit way.
I squeak when broad shoulders fill the mirror behind me and jerk in alarm when Matteo slips his hands into the deep pants pockets.
“Fuck, that’s a pretty sound.Make it again,” he murmurs against the well of my shoulder.
My heart pounds against my sternum as he splays his fingers and grabs my upper thighs through the pockets.Warmth pools between my legs as his thumbs brush against my sex.A whimper escapes me.
“Goddamnit, little rabbit.You’re already soaked, aren’t you?You like teasing me, don’t you?”
Pressure builds in my core.I shake my head.
“Unbutton your top,” he growls.
My breath hitches as he shifts his thumbs closer to my clit.Emotions clog my throat even as need pebbles my nipples.
“You may be above begging, but I’m not.”Fissures of pleasure travel up and down my spine as he brushes his lips along my throat as he speaks.“Please, little rabbit, unbutton your shirt and show me those perfect breasts.”
Every reason why I should say no drains from my mind.My fingers tremble as they move to fulfill his wish.
