13. Blake

CHAPTER 13

Blake

Y ve waltzes right past my secretary at Titan Enterprises and straight into my private office. “I’ve waited long enough, Blake, the wedding date has been set.”

“Oh?” I arch a brow. “Whose wedding is that?”

“Yours. You’re marrying Lexa.” She folds her spray-tanned arms. “You’ll never find a woman to marry you before your birthday. That’s a fact. Rumor has it you’re not even trying to find a wife, you’re just keeping to yourself like always. So here’s the deal: You marry Lexa and then you get your inheritance. We’ll both be happy.”

I doubt this woman’s been happy a day in her life.

“No.” My tone’s flat. I’m done humoring her on this subject.

A cold smile curves her lips. “The date and location are set. On June 11th you’ll be wed.”

I lean back in my chair and meet her gaze. I don’t want to miss a moment of her reaction to what I’m about to say. “I’m not marrying Lexa. I have a girlfriend and we’ll be engaged soon.”

Her jaw drops, before she catches herself, snapping it shut like a Venus flytrap. Fury sparks in her eyes. “Who?” she demands in a low, frigid voice.

“You’ll find out with everyone else when we publicly announce our engagement.” I tap my keyboard to wake the computer screen. “Now if there’s nothing else, you may go.”

Her jaw’s clenched so hard she’s likely to crack a tooth. “There is something else.” Much to my chagrin she takes a seat in front of my desk. “We have a new project. It’s prime real estate right on the Hudson river. We want it, but we’re not the only ones. The seller’s from an old money family who’s finally willing to part with the property after having it in the estate for several generations.”

“Send me his information and I’ll make sure the deal goes through.” Why does she think it’s necessary to tell me this face-to-face when an email would suffice?

That cold, calculating expression returns to her face. “Good. Because if this deal doesn’t go through, then I’m giving Titan Enterprises to my daughter. Poor Liam won’t have an inheritance any more. He won’t see a dime of this company’s money, nor will he ever get a position on the board.”

This fucking bitch sets my teeth on edge. I should be used to all the game playing by now, but she still manages to throw me off at times. She’s always changing not only the rules, but the stakes. There’s no way in hell I’m letting Liam’s inheritance go to anyone but him. Titan Enterprises is his, end of story. I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.

“Fine,” I easily agree. She likes to get a rise out of me, but this time I’m not going to give her the satisfaction. “Who’s our competition?”

Her grin’s pure evil. “Eion Bane.”

Finally, I glower.

Fuck the fucking Banes. They’ve been a thorn in my side since college. If they weren’t the most powerful billionaire family in New York City—practically royalty—I’d have figured out a way to wipe them out. But the Bane family is just as dangerous as I am, and there’s a fuck ton of them too. Six Bane brothers and a sister.

Eion Bane’s going to be tough competition for this property. He owns his own development company and we’re often pitted against each other. But losing to him before never had stakes this high. My brother’s inheritance wasn’t on the line then.

“I’ll get it done. Now get out,” I bark.

“You’d better.” Yve prances out of my office with a victorious smile. She knows I’m riled up, she succeeded in her mission.

The next few months I need to be on top of my game—across the board. To beat Eion Bane and convince the seller my company’s the better option, I’m going to have to go above and beyond.

I’m also going to have to be careful with Ginevra and our upcoming fake engagement. It needs to be perfect. As does the wedding.

I can’t let anything slip. Yve must be convinced that Gin and I are a real couple, committed for life.

Thinking of marrying Gin turns my thoughts to last night and her panic attack. One moment we were kissing—she kissed me back—and the next she’s having a full blown meltdown in my foyer. I know someone hurt her, even if I don’t know the details. She seemed fine with the kissing, but when I touched her…

Rage simmers in my gut. Someone touched her, hurt her, and ghost or not, I’m going to get to the bottom of it. The one who hurt her may be dead, but there could be others. I’ll find out. It’s my new personal mission.

I’ve been so focused on her, that I quickly tired of toying with the man who hired me to fuck with Roman’s shipping empire. Last night I ended that game by draining his account. Then I sent a quick text to Roman so he can deal with the man himself. Which he will do, thoroughly. No one messes with Roman De Luca’s business and lives.

Now I’m free to focus on Gin. That beautiful young woman has far too many secrets. I can’t wait to unearth them one by one. She’s a puzzle that I’m determined to solve.

F riday night, I decide to forego my dark web surfing, any messages can wait a day, in favor of going to bed with Gin for a change. I’ve been thinking a lot about her, and us, this week. If the man who hurt her is dead, there’s nothing I can do to hurt him. But I can still help her. At least I think I can. I’m willing to try.

I’ve seen trauma, and PTSD, in others many times before. If I can help her… heal … that might be beneficial for both of us. She’s going to be my wife—fake wife—and I want to touch her in the most intimate ways while she’s sober, not a drop of alcohol to cloud her mind. More importantly, I want her to want to be touched by me . Only me. In fact, I want her begging for it.

So tonight, we’re going to try some things. Ease her into what I can only assume will be new experiences for her. Which begs the question about her reputation. If she panics when a man touches her through her clothing, how in the hell has she slept with half of Manhattan’s bachelors? I’m confused.

Either she made it all up–probably to piss off her parents–or as a shield against society, to keep herself safe. That’s some twisted logic, but I won’t judge her for it. I’m sure she has her reasons.

Or she only fucks when she’s drunk, too trashed to let her past haunt her, to let her demons claim her mind. But that’s…

My gut wrenches at that thought. I scowl, imagining all those boys taking advantage of her when she’s inebriated and clearly not in her right state of mind. She’d never let them touch her otherwise.

Either way, I’m going to help her, and ruin her for any other man. I’ll break down her defenses until her ghosts vanish and she’s begging for my touch.

Armed with these new insights, I find her curled up in bed watching a cooking show on her phone. I guess her blossoming friendship with Kyla, my cook, isn’t a bunch of bullshit. Gin’s genuinely interested in the culinary arts. How unexpected.

However, the pillow blockade is alive and well. Doesn’t she realize how she busts through that thing every night in her sleep and ends up snuggled at my side, her limbs tangled with mine?

When I stop at the foot of the bed, she eyes me, then sets her phone on the nightstand. “Are you coming to bed early tonight?”

“You could say that.” I shrug out of my suit jacket then loosen my tie, my gaze roaming over her appreciatively. “Come here, I want to kiss you.”

She visibly swallows. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. After last time?—”

“I don’t want to kiss your lips.”

“What do you mean?” She frowns in confusion. “W-where do you want to kiss me?”

My gaze drops to the apex of her thighs. “I want to taste you there.”

Gin’s face flames a bright tomato red, and she sits up, her back to the headboard. But she doesn’t appear frightened, merely alarmed at my blatant desire.

I continue, “Has anyone ever tasted your pussy before? Don’t lie to me, I’ll know if you’re lying.”

She hesitates, then shakes her head. Raw possessiveness courses through my veins and I can’t wait to get my hands and mouth on her, but I have to take this slow. I don’t want to scare her away.

“Do you think you’d like that?” I ask. “Or would it cause you to panic?”

Her lips twist as she thinks about her answer before giving it. “I-I think that might be okay.”

I try to suppress my wolfish grin and fail miserably. I’m going to eat my little magpie tonight until she’s screaming my name.

“Come here. Slide to the end of the bed and remove your panties.” My tone’s a soft command, and like a good girl, she does as she’s told. Her satin nightgown drapes over her curves, riding up as she slides to the edge of the bed, showing me how she’s not wearing any panties. I swear I start to fucking salivate.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Her tone’s so soft it’s barely above a whisper. My heart pinches at seeing the more vulnerable side of this sassy woman.

“It’s just pleasure, baby girl.” I drop to my knees. “Now lie back and enjoy yourself. If it’s too much, just say so. Use your words.”

She bobs her head and settles back on the bed. Her lips parted, pupils blown wide, she watches me as I grip her hips and drag her butt to the edge. The kiss I plant on her inner thigh sends a shiver through her body. Her skin erupts with tiny goosebumps.

I kiss and lick my way toward her bare, pink pussy. She tastes like sugar, so damn sweet, and I grunt my approval. At my urging, she drops her knees, spreading her legs wide to give me better access. I lick from the bottom of her slit to the top, and she jumps.

Holding her hips in place, I circle her clit with my tongue, reveling in her sweet, earthy taste. I knew she’d taste fucking divine. She’s a little demon in the body of an angel.

The sudden urge to mercilessly devour her spurs me forward, but I hold back, I don’t want to frighten or overwhelm her. This is supposed to help, not reveal the kind of monster I am in bed. I need to ease her into this or she’ll never willingly come to me.

Gin’s moan catches my attention. She’s enjoying herself. That’s good.

Leaving her clit, I drag my tongue to her opening and thrust inside. Her startled gasp goes straight to my throbbing cock. Lazily, I tongue-fuck her until she’s writhing beneath me, her hips rising up to meet my face. Her moans, gasps, and shudders spur me on, harder and faster. When her thighs begin to shake, I ease off. Her whimpered protest is music to my ears.

I kiss her swollen lips, then suck down hard on her clit, locking her hips in place with my arms as she comes apart.

Gin screams out my name. Fuck yes.

“Blake!” Her body tenses, flushing a bright pink, then quakes as her orgasm rockets through her. I don’t let up until her trembling subsides.

I hum against her sensitive flesh. Satisfied. Then stand up, admiring my work. Ginevra’s hair is a wild mess of curls, her breasts heave as she catches her breath, and her unfocused gaze rests on me. I can’t help but round the bed and capture her lips with mine. She opens for me, and I sweep my tongue into her hot mouth, letting her taste herself. She makes a small noise of surprise before she sucks on my tongue.

Fuck me . I’d love to have her suck on something else right now, but that’ll have to wait for another time. Tonight’s about her, not my raging hard-on.

Peeling myself away from her, I drop one last kiss on her forehead. “Sleep well. I’ll be in later.”

“Oh. Okay.” Her gaze falls to the significant bulge in my trousers. “Don’t you want me to?—”

“No.” My tone’s clipped, and at the way her expression crumbles, I mentally kick myself. “I mean not tonight. I have work to do.” Like jerking myself off in the shower. “Oh, and we’re going out of town this weekend. The car will be out front tomorrow at ten. Be ready.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise. Just be ready by ten.”

Murmuring an affirmative, she curls up under the blankets, her heavy eyelids drooping closed. She’s asleep before I’ve even stepped into the bathroom.

I make quick work of stripping, turn the shower on cold, and step inside. Even the frigid temperature isn’t enough to calm my painfully hard cock. So I take myself in hand and jerk off like a teenage boy bursting with hormones, while picturing Gin spread wide on my bed and savoring the taste of her on my lips.