Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Anton

The house is quiet when I get home. A soft gold light comes from the Tiffany lamp on the table in the foyer.

I drop my keys in the dish on the front table and turn toward the stairs. Muted murmurs stop me on my first step, and I listen for where they can be coming from.

The media room.

My men have all gone home, except for those charged with protecting my sanctuary. Those men wouldn't be watching a movie when they're supposed to be watching the security feeds.

I step off the stairs and head to the TV room. This house used to belong to my father, I grew up in this house. The media room was added when Marco and I were teenagers.

Work has me too busy to bother with it much now.

As I get closer, I hear a laugh track.

The room's dark save for the flickering of the large screen. Six movies in two rows face the large screen. In the first row, middle seat sits Claire.

A blanket covers her sleeping form. She's laying back in the reclined seat, one arm tucked beneath her head as she's curled into herself.

I find the remote on the armrest next to her and click off the television. Without the noise, she stirs.

I've dealt with real assholes all night. Everyone playing for something they want, trying wheel and deal their way to more power, more territory, more money. No one says exactly what they want, what they think.

This woman though, she says exactly what she thinks, what she wants. I found myself thinking about that while grown men kissed ass, played games all around me tonight. How refreshing she was.

Even if she wants me dead.

A thick lock of hair has fallen over her forehead. I brush it away, feeling the softness of her skin.

She moans softly. Her forehead wrinkles, but her eyes stay closed.

I could kill her right here; she'd never see it coming. She wouldn't even know it happened.

The woman sleeps in her enemy's house as easily as she would her own home.

I check my watch, five after ten. She's not where she's supposed to be. I was clear where I wanted her when I got home.

Sleeping in my media room wasn't it.

My phone buzzes in my front pocket and I grab it.

Got the name of the manager who dealt with Michael. You want me to talk to him?

I have a quick response.

No. I'll handle it. Just send over the contact information.

A moment later a name, phone and address come through and I put my phone away. It will wait until morning.

There's something more pleasurable to deal with first.

I scoop my sleeping captive up in my arms, lifting her from the recliner with the blanket. With the caution of a toddler, she wraps her arms around my neck and leans her head into my chest.

"You have no idea the danger you're really in, do you?" I whisper as I take her from the room. She sighs when I start the climb up to my room, and only stirs a moment when I maneuver through my doorway.

I lay her on the bed, peeling off the fleece blanket tangled around her legs, and take inventory of her beauty.

She showered like I told her to, and she's changed into a nightgown. The soft satin material rides up her thigh enough for me to see an angry bruise just below her asscheek.

I trail my fingertip along it, pushing the hem of the nightgown up further.

"What are you doing?" She bolts up, blinking away the sleep from her eyes. She pulls up her legs, crossing them beneath her and grabbing the blanket I took from her.

"Checking your ass." I point to the clock on the nightstand beside her. "It's after ten. You weren't where you were supposed to be."

She rubs the heel of her hand against her eyes. "I fell asleep watching TV." She pauses, as though she's only realized she's not in the media room anymore. "How did I get up here?"

"Magic." I chuckle and grab my tie, working the knot undone and pulling it from my collar.

"You carried me?"

I ignore the question and head to my closet, making quick work of getting out of this fucking suit. When I return to the room, she's off the bed tugging the hem of the nightgown down. It's a long one, hits her just at the knees.

"Where are you going?" I pad across the carpeting to the door, flipping the lock so we won't be interrupted.

Not that anyone would come running to her aid. It's for her benefit the lock gets used. She needs to understand her situation.

"I don't want to stay in here with you," she says, her hands fist at her sides.

"I didn't ask." I take slow, determined steps until the tips of my toes are butted up against hers.

The muscles of her throat work as she swallows whatever protest she was going to make. Her eyes slowly make their way over my chest, the muscles there and then lower to my abdomen—over scars from long-ago fights. When her gaze hits my cock, hard and heavy for her, she stumbles back a step.

I catch her arm, keeping her from falling on her ass.

"Your shoulder. You need to be careful, so you don't tear your stitches." She twists her arm out of my grasp. I let her go.

"You care about hurting me now?" I laugh. She's a contradiction. When her arousal hits, she forgets how she found herself here in my house.

She frowns. "What do you want from me, Anton?"

I lower my gaze to her breasts. Her nipples peak beneath the soft blue nightgown.

"Take that thing off," I say.

"Why?" She tightens her jaw.

"I'm pretty sure you know why."

"You're going to hurt me again?"

I wrap my hand around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her gasp. Her pulse beats strong beneath my fingers.

I inch closer, inhaling the scent of my soap on her skin.

"It doesn't have to hurt, but sometimes it's better when it does." I brush my nose across hers. "Do you want it to hurt?"

Her pulse picks up, gets more erratic.

The blue of her eyes is pushed away by her dilated pupils.

I squeeze a little tighter.

"Anton." My name squeaks out of her lips as her hands come up to my arm, trying to pull me off of her throat.

"Do you want me to hurt you, Claire?" I ask again, hardening my tone.

"No. Please." She swallows against my hand.

"Hmm." I loosen my grip. "I don't think you're telling me the truth." I reach down with my other hand, gathering the hem of her nightgown and sliding my hand beneath until I touch her creamy skin.

She's bare.

Fuck, she's smooth.

She tries to push her thighs together, but it's not enough to keep me out. She'll never keep me out.

"Open your legs, Claire. Let me in," I order, tightening my grip around her throat again.

Her eyes widen, and so do her thighs.

My fingers glide easily through her folds.

I grin.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're soaked." I gather her arousal on my fingers and bring it up to her eyeline. "See?"

Her face erupts in a red blush that makes my cock ache.

Wiping my fingers across her cheek, I leave a smear of her arousal across her face as I let go of her throat.

"Liars don't live long in my world, Claire." I grab the neckline of the neckline and tear it in two, down the length of her until the garment hangs from her shoulders.

She tries to gather it back together, but I hit her hands away.

"I want to see what I have to work with here." Shoving the nightgown off her shoulders, I push until it pools at her feet, leaving me with a full view of her nakedness.

"Stop," she whispers, trying to cover her breasts with her arm.

"Stop what?"

"Looking." She lowers her eyes. "Just stop."

"Has a man never taken the time to look before?" I grab her wrist and pull her arm away, tucking it at her side. "Because that's a fucking travesty."

She raises her eyes to mine, uncertainty lingers there.

"I'm not too much of an asshole to tell a woman when she's beautiful. And you, Claire, are fucking gorgeous." I brush her hair back behind her shoulders.

Hooking my hands beneath her arms, I hoist her up off the floor and easily toss her onto my bed. As soon as her ass hits the mattress she scrambles, like I'm going to let her get away when she's this close. When my cock hungers this much for her.

The bed dips beneath me as I climb on, following her as she scoots back until her head bumps the headboard.

"There's nowhere for you to go." Maybe the assurance will make it easier for her to give over to what she wants, what we both want.

And we shouldn't.

Fuck, this is wrong.

She tried to kill me.

She wants me dead.

And I want her to scream my name.

Grabbing her ankles, I yank her to her back then cover her with my body. Effectively pinning her to the mattress, I spread her legs with one knee.

My cock presses against her wet, warm pussy and I moan.

"You're not a virgin, are you, Claire?" I tease, pressing a kiss to her chin, her cheek. Her arousal is already dried on her skin, but the aroma remains. I lick it.

She's my personal scratch-and-lick sticker.

"No." She lifts her hips from the mattress, inviting me into her warmth.

I'm not that easy.

Reaching between our bodies, I find her clit. It's swollen, ready to be toyed with.

I'm ready to oblige.

Her lips part with a gasp as I roll her beneath the pad of my middle finger. I watch her face, enjoying every little twitch of her lips and wrinkle of her brow as I continue to rub and tease.

"Good girl," I whisper, dipping my head to her breast and taking her nipple between my teeth.

"Anton, what—oh!" She jumps a little when I bite down.

"Perfect girl." I flick my tongue over the tender bit, then move to the valley between her breasts. Continuing to increase the pressure I put on her clit, I bite her chest. Scraping my teeth over her flesh, until she writhes with a whine beneath me.

"Oh, fuck!" She sucks in air. Her thighs tighten around my hand. She's getting close.

"Soon, sweetheart, soon." I promise her, adjusting my positioning again and nipping at her untouched nipple.

As I tighten my teeth around the heard nub, I thrust two fingers into her tight passage. She gifts me with the prettiest mewl.

"Oh, sweetheart." I lick her breast. "You're going to be a fun toy." I press the heel of my hand against her clit and begin pumping my fingers in and out of her while grinding down on the sensitive nub.

"Anton, please." She spreads her thighs further.

"Please, what?" I give her my ear, looking down the length of her body, my hand between her sweet thighs, her chest heaving for air while she teeters just on the edge.

It's where I want her.

Right on the tip of pleasure.

She won't get any, though.

Not until I give it.

"I don't know." She tosses her head to the side.

"Do you want me to stop?" I won't, no matter what she says. She's mine now, and I say when I play with my toys.

"No. Yes." Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth.

I shift again, pressing the tip of my cock where my fingers are. Her eyes widen. Her hands raise to press against my chest.

"Hands down." I order and she drops them, like the best girl.

Slipping my fingers from her, I fist my cock. Stroking myself, I rub all of her juices over the length of my dick.

"Do you want me to stop now?" I ask, pushing the head of my cock past her entrance.

She whines.

Uncertain girl.

One thrust and I'm seated fully inside. She cries out, and I suck in a breath. Fuck, she's tight.

I hold still, giving her a beat to adjust.

"Anton!" She shoves at my shoulder, and I grimace when she pushes on my wound. "Shit! Shit. Sorry!" She pats the injury, like that will make it better.

If I wasn't trying my hardest not to plow her to death with my cock, I would find the whole thing humorous.

"Fuck, you feel good." I lean down, pressing my mouth against hers, I take her groan into me as I pull back and shove forward again. "So tight." I kiss her again, thrusting harder this time.

"Anton," she says after I break another kiss. "Harder, Anton. Please." She swallows hard after the request. The blush returns to her cheeks.

"Not yet, sweetheart." I take her hand and bring it between our bodies, to her pussy. "I want you to rub your clit until you're ready to come unglued. Yes?"

She thinks for a moment then nods.

"Words, Claire. Tell me you underhand."

"I understand." Her fingers are already working over her clit. A featherlike touch brushes my cock when I pull back and I nearly lose it right there. Fuck, just a touch from her and I'm ready to blow.

I grit my jaw.

"Hold steady, sweetheart," I warn her. Stopping just short of leaving her all together, I look down at our bodies. My cock still inside of her pussy, and her fingers working over her swollen clit.

Faster and faster she moves and the tighter my balls get.

Fuck.

A tremble works its way through her.

"Come for me, sweetheart. Come hard," I order as I plow into her hard.

A bomb could explode beneath us, and I would not stop. Over and over, I thrust into her body. Harder and harder, until she's shaking.

"Oh!" She cries out. Feeling her orgasm cresting, my body releases with her.

"Anton!" She screams my name, grasping at my shoulder with her free hand. Again, she irritates my wound, but it won't stop me. Plowing harder, faster, I drive through her orgasm, taking in every beautiful sound of her release until my body explodes with her.

"Fuck!" I growl, capturing her mouth beneath mine.

Electricity zips and zaps run over my skin until a sweet hum covers my entire body.

A moment later, I raise up on my elbows and look down at her. Confusion and anger wars in her beautiful eyes.

"I shouldn't have done that," she says when I continue to stare at her.

"Yes, you should have." I kiss the tip of her nose. "Let me get a towel for you."

As soon as my cock slips from her, I want to get back in. After I grab a towel from the bathroom and wet it, I sit beside her on the bed.

"I can do it." She reaches for it, but I shove her hand away.

"I know you can, but you won't."

She falls back on the pillows.

"Are you always this controlling?" she huffs.

I glance up at her through hooded eyes.

"Yes." It's not my fault, not really. I've had the weight of my family sitting on my shoulders since I was barely legal enough to drink. If I don't control every aspect of the life around me, how can I keep it all running?

"You ruined the nightgown you left for me." She gestures to the soft blue puddle on the floor.

"That's fine. I prefer you this way anyway." I toss the towel away and help get her beneath the comforter.

"I'm not staying in the other room?" She pushes up to her elbows. Her hair is a tangled mess around her, and the brightness of her eyes pulls me into her energy.

"No." I hit the lights on the way to my side of the bed and crawl in.

"Why?" She pulls the blanket tight around her body and inches to the edge of the bed.

I roll to my side, wrapping my arm around her, and drag her into me.

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because I said, now go to sleep."

"I'm… here?"

I growl, squeeze her to me.

"Sleep," I order.

She huffs, like she's annoyed.

Well, me too, Claire Montecelli.

Me the fuck too.