18. Matteo

18

I go to Dominic's office after the meeting with the Don. I pretend it's to review the security measures he's put in place for Sicily via his connections in Italy. We also need to discuss the oversight of my businesses he'll have while I'm gone, but honestly, it's to cool off after the meeting with the Don. And to avoid going back to my apartment.

Even if she is locked up in her room, I'll be conscious of her being there. What I didn't take into account when I hatched this plan is that Tasha is going to be in my space 24/7.

It's almost eight at night by the time I head back, and as I walk into my apartment, the buzz of female voices dies down. Four pairs of eyes turn to me, and Burley stands from where he's been observing from the kitchen island.

"Thought the ladies would be done by now, boss. It took some time to arrange, and Esta only arrived an hour ago."

My gaze jumps to Tasha, who looks down at her feet, blushing. I left her naked and frazzled this morning with another old T-shirt; now she's in a frilly summer dress that hugs her curves.

Rosalia's contact from the boutique clasps her hands together and looks toward her friend, uncertain. Burley comes to stand close to his wife, picking his side. I glance them over, saying nothing.

The place is a mess. A rail with at least twenty evening dresses stands to one side, and two more with day dresses, trousers and blouses, and one with underwear and silk pajamas make a square of private shopping in the space between the living room and the twelve-seater dining table. Three full-length mirrors complete the setting.

Rosalia steps forward, staring straight at me with a dare in her eyes. She's right. I asked and she delivered.

"Get out," I say. The boutique woman shoots a nervous glance at Burley and then at Rosalia, but Burley understands me perfectly and herds them along, probably to his own place next door to wait for further instruction.

Tasha doesn't move, clinging to the two dresses they were discussing when I came in. I walk past the evening gowns, running my fingers over the expensive fabrics, then make my way to the underwear and silks.

"Found anything you like?" I ask as I pick up a bra and panty set in virginal white.

She hesitates. "Yes?"

I hang the underwear back up and make my way towards the wine bar. Dirty dinner plates are stacked on the kitchen counter in a rush. She's been eating. Good. I reach for a bottle of red and two glasses and walk over to the sectional. I open the wine and pour, feeling her gaze on me.

I sit down with my wine and get comfortable. "Show me."

"Okay. Everything Esta brought is my size, so it's just a matter of picking a few things." Tasha glances around, seeming nervous. "I'm torn between this pink one and the bl?—"

"Show me," I say again, and the command sinks in. She goes pale but turns away and hangs one dress up.

"I'll just go to my room to cha?—"

"Do it here."

She bites her lip, ready to spew spit at me, which is rather entertaining. Kitten is catching on.

"Fine. After all, there's nothing you haven't seen before," she says as she drops the two dresses onto the sofa and in a smooth move pulls the one she has on over her head and tosses it to the side.

Fuck. She's wearing a lacy underwear set in pale pink, which only accentuates the purity of her unblemished skin. Her nipples harden under my gaze, becoming more pronounced through the bra's thin mesh and lace. I grind my jaw at the thought that she hates her body, but this is the type of thing that gives women confidence if handled right. She's going to need it when we're in Cannes, as she'll be the star of the show.

She pulls the pink dress over her head, struggling a bit because it's fitted, but manages and pulls up the hidden side zip. With a raised eyebrow she swishes her hips and the full skirt sways side to side. "What do you think?"

"Very, very pretty," I say, showing with a finger that she should turn.

"Really?" She complies, stops to look at herself in the mirrors, then completes the turn.

"Yep, you look stunning. It's a keeper. Next."

She smiles. "There are a few in the same cut, different colors though."

"Keep them all."

"I don't need?—"

"Want me to gag you so you can stop telling me what you do and don't need?"

She shakes her head and unzips the dress, but I see the smile she tries to hide by looking down. I watch as she wriggles out of the dress, thinking that she'll need more than one of those because it's the type of dress a man will rip, impatient to get to her breasts.

Next she reaches for a pair of trousers, but I raise my hand. "No. Only dresses."

"Why?"

So I can have my hand up your pussy whenever I want. "You have gorgeous legs. Show them off."

Tasha groans as she hugs the trousers to her chest, effectively still hiding her body. "Stop messing with me."

I stand, walk over, take the trousers from her, and hang them back on the rail. I give the summer dresses a cursory glance. "We'll keep all of these."

Her eyes widen. "These dresses start at four thousand dollars a pop."

"And?" I ignore the consternation on her face and move over to the evening gowns. "Let's see you in a few of these."

She shakes her head with a sigh but comes to stand next to me, arms crossed. "Pick one then."

There's lots of black, which I ignore. This woman is meant to shine and not blend into the night. "Here." I hand her a red dress with a deep V-neck and a low back that spills into a full-length skirt.

"Okay." She doesn't sound happy. "I'm not sure about the bodice. I'll need tape for…"

"For?"

Tasha heaves an exasperated groan. "You'll see. Look and learn."

I want to chuckle but clamp it down. She steps into the dress, lifts the shoulders into place and then reaches for the back row of buttons. "I need help."

And the bra has got to go. "Here." I step behind her and, in the light, button up the row of tiny buttons that guides the eye to her rounded butt and the two dimples right above. It's a perfect fit, and when I'm done, I trail my fingers over her back to her bra's clasp and undo it for her. She reaches for a strap to pull it down her arm, but I stop her with a warning squeeze on her hip. Our eyes meet in the mirror. "Let me."

I'm toying with her now, playing with fire, but the temptation is too big. I hook a fingertip under her bra strap and ease it down her arm, watching her reaction to this simple touch in the mirror. She's dropped her gaze and goosebumps chase down my fingertip's trail. When I do the other side, she exhales with strain. I shift to reach the front of the bra and tug until it slips from her body, slightly protesting against the dress's fabric that kept it in place.

"Ravishing," I say softly, the moment even more intimate than intended.

Tasha looks up and into the mirror, a blush on her cheeks. "But if I turn even just a bit, a nipple will show," she murmurs. "Maybe Esta brought tape to hold everything together?"

I look down at her breasts, the focal point of the dress's cut, showing off the perfect cleavage any man would want to sink into. The wide plunge of the V-neck hardly stays in place, with the shoulders threatening to slip off. I toss the bra onto the sofa and shrug. "Try on the white silk."

"Matteo."

I'm at the little buttons again and have them loose in no time. I ease the dress off and she almost stumbles out of it as I force it to the side, ignoring her whimpered protest. She's naked in front of the mirror, in nothing but those lacy panties.

There's something heady about being fully clothed in a suit when a beautiful woman is standing so nearly naked in front of you, ready for the taking. Her own need is evident in every signal her body gives. Her eyes begging for more, even if she doesn't know it. Her need manifesting in that little wet spot staining her panties.

If she were any other woman, I'd be fucking her right now on the sofa, on the kitchen counter, all over the apartment, and making her come until she was spent with pleasure. Until she curled up in my arms and slept because she felt safe and loved and cherished.

But she isn't any other woman. She's the one woman I plan to ruin, the daughter of my brother's killer, my last revenge. The one woman on the whole planet I can't have.

"Try. On. The. Fucking. White. Silk," I hiss, my own frustrations getting the better of me. She moves, has the dress off the hanger and over her head, her fingers trembling as she hooks the corset in place and then drags the hidden side zip closed.

I'm back in control of my temper and gently gather her thick strands of hair in a makeshift updo. I stare at her in the mirror, at her flushed cheeks and eyes with tears in the shallows; the creamy skin of her neck, stained by my mark; her breasts, fully covered now but her nipples still hard and begging for attention. "See, kitten, you're so beautiful, you don't even need makeup."

Her arms are hanging limp by her sides, as if she's given up. "Where are we going? To Sicily? Is that where you're going to sell me?"

I don't answer. Il Consiglio works on a need-to-know basis and although she should know this by now, she chooses to be slow to catch on when it comes to that.

"You're going through with this plan then? To sell me? To be used like Tatiana was used?"

At these words, my anger and frustration flare. I twist her hair tight, and it pulls at her scalp. She flinches with a gasp, hands rearing up to stop me, but I catch her one arm and trap it behind her back with ease. Her head drops to my shoulder to accommodate the tension and to avoid any pain, her free hand clutching mine where I have fisted her hair.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll never mention Tatiana again," I say close to her ear, watching her struggle to avoid the pain of a locked arm.

"You're a monster," she hisses, meeting my gaze head on in the mirror. "And I'm going to kill you."

I want to laugh. Kill me? Let her try. Let her bring out her claws. I lower my mouth to her exposed neck and bite into it, careful to leave only a temporary imprint on her skin. I drag my lips up the delicate column, tugging at her earlobe with my teeth, in pleasure that's equally mine and hers. "Oh, kitten, I can't wait. In fact, I'm looking forward to it."