Page 11 of Temptation
This is crazy. I am crazy.
My throat constricts as I swallow hard, my mouth dry. A whiff of panic sends my mind spinning for ways to get as far away as possible from the man standing in front of me. Even though I already know it’s futile.
Fabrizio Moretti is a man who takes what he wants, and right now, the hunger in his gaze leaves no doubt that what he wants is me. When he takes another step forward and I mirror his movement, stepping back, my legs hit something cold and hard. The nightstand. I am trapped now. Pinned between the piece of furniture behind me and Fabrizio before me.
“Don’t you dare touch me,” I warn, trying to keep my voice steady despite the tremors of fear coursing through me. He merely chuckles, the low, husky sound of his laughter vibrating through every cell of my body. It sends shivers down my spine, not entirely of the unpleasant variety.
“I think you don’t quite understand the predicament you’re in,” he drawls, his tone dripping with condescension. “You are—”
“What?” I snap, cutting him off. Something inside me fractures, all the simmering emotions—the fear, the anger, the helplessness—unite into a potent, explosive mix. He might think he can do whatever he wants; hell, hedoeshave the upper hand here, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stand back and allow him to toy with me.
“Your prisoner? You’ve made that abundantly clear already,” I spit out, the words bitter on my tongue. The burning prick of tears surprises me. I thought I’d cried myself dry, but it seems I was wrong. Yet I grit my teeth, forcing them back. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me shed even one single tear. “Believe me, I do understand the situation I am in.Asshole,” I mutter under my breath, caught between the hope he heard my defiance and the prayer he didn’t. My whole body erupts in goosebumps as Fabrizio takes another step toward me, the heatradiating off his body a stark contrast to the coldness of his demeanor.
He cups my chin and tilts my head up, forcing me to look at him as he leans in so close that our noses touch. “As long as you are here, you arewhatever the fuck I want.My prisoner. My possession.Mine,” he whispers against my lips before lightly brushing his against them.
His last words sound almost passionate, but his sultry tone can’t mask the ugliness of their meaning. But I can’t ignore the way my body and mind react when his lips touch mine. All my resolve and fighting spirit evaporate into thin air with a single, light touch. His hand moves from my chin to the back of my head, fisting my hair and yanking it back hard.
“Ugh.” While he holds me in a tight grip, his other hand pulls my towel away with a flick of his wrist, leaving me standing naked in front of him. All I can do is stare at him, my mouth gaping open in shock, my mind foggy. His heated gaze wanders up and down my body, leaving me hot and wet all over. My body’s reaction is a mystery to me. When he captures my mouth with his, I am taken aback; I can’t move or think clearly as he thrusts his tongue into my mouth.
I push my hands against his chest, clawing at his shirt, pulling him closer to me. He grabs my bare ass cheek with a boldness that catches me off guard. His fingers squeeze and release my flesh, pulling me in closer until our bodies are flush. I can feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt, his hips grinding against mine in a rhythm that speaks of pent-up desire.
As Fabrizio’s erection presses hard against my stomach, I’m hit with the realization of just how aroused he is. That knowledge alone is enough to fuel my own excitement, my body responding in kind. A whimper escapes my lips, pushed out by the rough way he dominates my mouth. His tongue isn’t gentle,doesn’t ask permission. It takes, and I find myself getting lost in the sensation.
Oh my god.
His fingers rake down the sides of my body, nails grazing my skin before digging into the flesh of my hips. He spins me around like I weigh nothing. I stumble, but Fabrizio’s grip keeps me upright as he navigates us toward the bed. There’s a fleeting moment of weightlessness before he pushes me down, my upper body bouncing against the mattress.
In an instant, he looms over me, positioning his knees on either side of my hips. One of his hands pins both of my wrists above my head, his grip firm but not painful. I’m trapped beneath him, just like yesterday. The only difference is that I’m completely naked, and my struggles against his hold are far less enthusiastic.
He answers my halfhearted attempt to break free with a low chuckle. Unfazed by my wiggling, his free hand rakes down my upper body, slower this time. Fingertips trail along my skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. When he cups my breast, squeezing it tight, he leans down and drags the tip of his tongue from the shell of my ear down the length of my neck. The sensations make my toes curl and send my whole system into overdrive. I want to demand he stop touching me and beg him not to at the same time.
“Fuck,” I moan, unable to hold back. My hips lift off the mattress, pushing against him, seeking friction. He works his way down my body with agonizing slowness until his mouth closes over one of my hardened nipples, sucking gently at first. Against all reason, against every instinct, I can feel my arousal spiking, my body tightening with each pull of his mouth. His tongue circles the nub, a wet heat that has me gasping. Then his teeth are there, biting down hard. A jolt of pain runs throughme, delicious and sharp. My mouth opens in shock, in a silent scream, but what emerges is another moan.
I feel him chuckle, his warm breath against my damp skin. His mouth hasn’t let up, his teeth still gripping my nipple. It’s a strange sort of pain, one that only seems to fuel my desire. Then he’s moving lower, his touch a featherlight whisper that leaves a tingling sensation in its wake. His fingers dance across my skin, each graze of his nails sending a shiver down my spine.
“Hmm,” he muses, his tone knowing, a smug smile spreading across his face. “For someone throwing so many bad words at me, you seem pretty… excited.” His voice is low and husky, dripping with amusement. I clamp my mouth shut, biting back a retort as I try to deny him the satisfaction of an answer. I attempt to remain still, to not react at all, but it’s impossible. He just drags his fingers along my inner thigh, the touch sending sparks through my system like fireworks exploding. I can feel how wet I am, my body betraying me as it begs for his touch. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing through my body until it feels like the only sound in the world. There’s no point in denying it, in trying to pretend that I don’t want this. But still, I try.
Still, I struggle against the overwhelming desire that threatens to consume me. His chuckle is a low rumble that vibrates through me, making my core clench with need. “You can’t hide it,” he murmurs, his breath a warm caress against my skin. “Your body doesn’t lie, even if you do.” His fingers tease at my entrance, not entering, just barely touching. “So fucking wet.” It’s a taunt, a promise of what could be if only I would give in. I stare at him, my mind reeling. That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
But there’s something about the way he says it, the possessive growl in his voice…it does something to me. And then, within the split of a second, his face hardens, “Fuck.” The word hangs in the air, a harsh curse shattering the fragile intimacy of themoment. I watch in a daze as he pushes himself up, his body uncoiling from the bed like a predator springing into action. He towers over me, his gaze raking down my naked body with a cold, almost clinical detachment that makes my skin crawl. I feel vulnerable; I feel some sort of shame and a sense of coldness and loss as he steps back.
“I have to leave soon,” he tells me, his voice firm and devoid of any warmth or teasing. “I expect you downstairs in ten minutes. Dressed.”
I remain sprawled on the bed, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath and process the whirlwind of emotions. My heart is racing, my body still humming with unfulfilled desires that now feel more like frustration and confusion.
What the fuck was that?I wonder, my mind reeling as I try to make sense of his sudden shift. First, he pounces on me like some kind of wild animal, and then he just…leaves? The man is highly confusing. As is my own reaction to him. I was spitting hate at him mere moments before spreading my legs for him. There’s not a single rational reason that could explain my ridiculous behavior.
“Can I offer you a cup of coffee, Ms. Walsh?” Fabrizio asks as soon as I step into the sleek, modern kitchen. “Or do you prefer tea?” His voice is smooth and polite, a stark contrast to the raw hunger in his eyes just minutes before.
I almost want to laugh at the absurd formality of his words, the neutrality of his tone. As if he hadn’t pressed his hard length into my naked body, making his intentions crystal clear. I canstill feel his touch burning into my skin. “Why the formality after you just basically threatened to fuck me?” I shoot back. “Mr. Moretti?”
He smirks, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards, a small dimple appearing on his cheek. “That was more of a promise than a threat,” he clarifies.
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath, but a flicker of his eyebrow tells me he heard.
“You have quite a foul mouth for someone working with kids,” he says, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest, one eyebrow arched in disapproval. “I won’t tolerate you swearing in front of my children.”
“I usually don’t,” I retort, meeting his gaze head-on. “It seems like you bring out the worst in me.”
