Page 23 of I Would Beg For You
I make sure to turn the lock on the door then head to the dressing table, where I grab a pair of scissors.
What I encounter when the box is finally open sends my heart into overdrive as my breasts grow heavy and my clit starts to throb.
The most decadent piece of purple lingerie sits inside the box, a hand-written note accompanying it. On heavy stock paper, a masculine hand has scrawled the following words:
Next time you put on a show, gattina, you better dress the part x
A smile splits my face in two as I clench my thighs to stave off the yearning.
Valentino has noticed.
And he wants more.
Chapter 9 Valentino
I’m taking a sipof my espresso this morning when Carlito knocks on the dining room door. When I look up, he steps in, a small white box in his hands.
I frown. He hasn’t opened it yet to check the contents.
“What’s this?” I ask.
A ghost of a smile hovers on his craggy, worn face. Carlito came on as a soldier decades ago but has always preferred to stay in my family’s employ as the help at home rather than joining any crew. Quiet and discreet, my father kept him on around the house. Butler, chauffeur, manservant—he takes on all these roles and excels at them.
“Special delivery,” he states with a nod.
I lift an eyebrow in question.
“From the ragazza next door.”
Does he sound a tad too happy? I brush this off and wave him over. Naomi sent me something? It’s not the gift I sent over. That will have been delivered in a bigger box. So, it’s definitely something else.
An exchange?
Or a message telling me to go fuck myself?
No, it won’t be that. Naomi wants something from me. Like all those years ago when we used to see each other across our windows, she’s been trying to catch my attention since the ball. And let’s speak of that night, of that kiss.
I have to move in my seat thanks to the inevitable tightening in my pants. Every time I think of Naomi, it gets me. How she melted into my embrace. How she returned my kiss, greedy but clearly inexperienced. It took some coaxing to get her to stroke my tongue back with hers, to find a rhythm where we both took and gave.
She’ll be like this in bed, too, I know it. A worthy lover. One thing I hate is a woman who expects me to do everything while she just lies there waiting to be pleasured. I’m not saying she needs to wait on me hand and foot, but sex is an interactive activity.
And Naomi has started the exchange.
It’s hard to sit now. My loins are on fire, but curiosity is also making me spring up to reach Carlito and take the package from him.
He leaves with a small nod, the hint of smile still on his face.
I shake my head.Cazzo, I think, looking at his departing back with a little grin on my face. He’s enjoying this. Everyone in this household has always had a soft spot for the lonely girl next door. Mamma wanted to feed her all day, and Francesca tried to befriend her. Alas, her father would inevitably loom, his shadow casting darkness over her. We tried, but we couldn’t let his evil touch us.
My hand stills on the package.
I’m getting into bed with Naomi. Literally and figuratively. And she comes with her father—he is tethered to her as she is to him.
My back goes stiff, and I take in a deep breath.
Naomi was a child he controlled. He has plans to make her his lackey—I know this. But what about her in this whole thing? Does she have a voice now? Will she stand up to him as a grown woman?
Something tells me the box she sent over has part of the answer.
