The Roman's Woman (A Singular Obsession Book 4) (9 page)

He took her hard, each of his lunges rocking her body into the wall. Struggling to brace herself, she moaned when his other hand left her hip and moved forward to stroke her clit.

“Again,” he whispered.

She choked, trying to breathe. “I can’t.”

There was no way she could orgasm a second time.

“
Again
.”

His voice was firm, inflexible. His fingers teased her clit, rubbing in a circular motion that made her bite her lip involuntarily. Tasting blood in her mouth, she arched backwards, trying to bring herself even closer.

Gio moved forward until his chest was flush with her back, his head against hers so he could kiss her hair. The hand that had been at her breast moved up over her mouth and she realized she’d been crying out, begging him to stop or not stop. She didn’t know which.

Having her mouth covered, her soft and curvy body held tight against Gio’s muscular chest, was more exciting than she could have ever imagined. A few more strokes of his deft finger and she was flying over the edge, the second orgasm stronger than the first because it was so unexpected.

Her eyes nearly rolled back into her head, and she shook violently in his arms. The ferocity of her climax triggered his. His thick staff swelled and spasmed, flooding her with hot seed.

Against her back, Gio trembled and swore in Italian, something unintelligible and harsh. One arm wrapped around her forehead—a shield from the wall as he collapsed, pushing her against the rough concrete.

His lungs worked like a bellows in the silence that followed.

They stood there for an eternity, trying to find the strength to stand and part their bodies. She was still resting her forehead against his arms when bits of awareness started to trickle back. A distant part of her brain was processing and cataloging each sensation; the warmth of the male body behind her and how sensitive her palms were from being abraded by the concrete.

He slipped out of her and, still slightly numb, she staggered upright. A cooling trickle ran down her leg. The realization they hadn’t used protection hit her when another seemed to occur to him. He turned her around, his face shocked and pale.

“
We had sex in an alley
.”

His voice sounded strangely hollow, almost stunned.

Dumbly, she opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He stood there staring at her so she nodded. It seemed to snap him out of his stupor. He took off the jacket of his suit and draped it over her shoulders.

Looking up at him, she caught sight of some movement in a window over his head and flinched. Someone in the second story of the building was watching them from behind a thin curtain.

She put both hands over her mouth, mortified. Gio glanced behind him. He must have seen the same shadow because put his arm around her to hustle her away. At the mouth of the alley, he stopped and whipped out a smartphone, a newer and more advanced model of the same phone she had. He hit the speed dial and spoke to someone in rapid Italian.

Absently fingering the soft lightweight wool of the suit jacket, Sophia was still in a daze when a shiny black town car pulled in front of them. Gio opened the door and helped her inside, speaking to the driver.

“Do they have Uber in Italy?” she asked drowsily, noting the fineness of the car’s leather interior.

The driver was probably using his personal car to make money like they did in the States.

“Um, there are services like it,” he answered evasively.

“Are you taking me back to the hotel?” she murmured, leaning on his shoulder.

“You’re taking
me
back to
your
hotel,” he corrected, putting a finger under her chin so she would meet his eyes.

He smiled at her. “The story of our first time as lovers does not end in an
alley.
It starts there.”

An unfamiliar warmth at his side woke Gio up. Bemused, he lifted his lids slowly. The sight that met his eyes sent a charge of adrenaline through him, waking him more effectively than ten shots of espresso.

Sophia was lying next to him, her glorious caramel curves barely covered by a rumpled white cotton sheet. One arm was thrown on the bed over her head, her fingers curled against the mattress. The heavy lashes of her eyes rested on her flushed cheeks.

With her hair mussed and that color in her cheeks, she looked like they’d just finished making love. He glanced at his watch. It had only been a few hours since the fourth, and final, round.

Gio laid his head back on the pillow and grinned. Last night had been the most passionate and carnal experience of his life.

Images filtered through his head. He’d wasted no time trying to fulfill every fantasy he’d had of Sophia since the foundation dinner. However, she became shy once they were back in her room. He’d had to start over. Not that he minded. Seducing her slowly was exactly what he’d wanted from the start—he needed to savor her after the quick, but mind-blowing, encounter outside the club.

Sophia had blushed pink as he stripped that black silk dress from her glorious body. That color had deepened into a fiery red as he did what he’d been dying to do since he had first seen her. He kissed every inch of her, suckling her breasts and clutching handfuls of her luscious ass as he rode her. Moments passed before she tensed all over and climaxed with a sob.

It was crazy. None of his old insecurities had surfaced, no malicious words had echoed in his head. His sole focus had been on Sophia, and her pleasure. Everything had fallen into place. It had been both natural and so fucking intense, like being on some sort of mind-altering drug.

Instinctively, he knew his life had changed forever. Now, he needed to convince Sophia that hers had too.

Merda
.

His breath caught, and he sank deeper into the bed. She still thought he was someone else. He had lied to her, and then bedded her under false pretenses.

He’d sworn to tell her the truth before it got that far, but kept putting it off. Getting to know her, talking to her, making her laugh, had become his priority. Most of the time he’d been able to pretend and push the guilt out of his mind, telling himself he was waiting for the right time.

Unfortunately, he wasn't sure when that was going to be. The situation in the press had grown steadily worse in the past week. Enzo had kept him updated about the latest slurs. One tabloid rag had quoted an anonymous source, a former trusted friend of his, that claimed Gio had not only emotionally abused his ex-wife, but he’d pimped her out to his friends and acquaintances.

He didn’t have to guess who the “friend” was. After all, he had caught Maria Gianna with Vincenzo Gavazzi himself. Enzo was verifying the source’s identity before Gio committed to a course of action. And that needed to be soon. It was only a matter of time before Sophia found out on her own. His picture was plastered on newsstands right now, for crying out loud.

He’d been lucky so far. Sophia wasn’t the kind of person who looked at tabloids, even if they were right under her nose. But his luck would only hold out for so long. It was only that it had been so easy to pretend. Far easier than he would have ever imagined. As long as he didn’t wear a suit and avoided the financial district, he was relatively anonymous. A pair of mirrored sunglasses and his own countrymen—including the paparazzi—didn’t recognize him.

It was disconcerting in a way, being able to step away from his life like he had. Gio didn’t enjoy being famous, but as the son of one of Italy’s oldest and wealthiest families, notoriety had always been a part of his existence. These past days with Sophia had been a learning experience, in more ways than one.

At least he’d started laying the groundwork. He had admitted that he worked at a bank. She just didn’t know that he was the head of it. Or that it wasn’t a sideline. What was she going to say when he finally told her the whole truth?

She was going to be angry. There was no doubt about it. Any reasonable person would be furious. A flash of Sophia’s face, losing her sunny smile, growing colder and staring at him in distaste ran through his head. And that was the best-case scenario.

Could the fiery Latin temper be a stereotype?
He could only hope so.

Never date a rich guy
. Yeah, there was that too. Damn her ex. That son of a bitch had clearly done a number on her. Gio needed to show her that merely because a man had money, it didn’t mean he had to bend everyone to his will. A rich successful man could be reasonable and thoughtful, capable of being an equal partner.

Although he hadn’t exactly been calm or reasonable last night. He’d been watching Sophia all evening, doing his best not to embarrass himself during her seductive little show on the dance floor. She’d left her phone with him, however, and the cursed thing kept going off.

At first he’d ignored it—until the third call. What kind of pathetic excuse for a man called a woman over and over again when she obviously didn’t want to talk to him?

Annoyed, he’d resolved to discuss it with Sophia, but the fucking calls kept coming until he’d been driven stupid with jealousy. And he’d let that jealousy drive him straight into that alley.

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure he regretted what he’d done. Letting go of his inhibitions that way had led to the best sex of his life. But Sophia had deserved candles and satin sheets on a king-sized bed for their first time. He glanced around him. This room was nice, but it didn’t compare to the bedroom in his penthouse a few blocks away.

He had to tell her the truth today. And he meant it this time. But first, he needed to find out more about this ex and what this unfinished business was. Clearly Sophia’s former boyfriend was using it as an excuse to stay in her life…and win her back. The sheer volume of calls was proof of that. He had to put a stop to it.

Gio had finally found his future, and he wasn’t about to let anyone take it away from him.

He was thinking it over, making plans, when Sophia shifted, causing the sheet to drift down. The move revealed her creamy café-au-lait thigh and part of one rich globe before she turned over on her back.

Inhaling deeply, he moved lower on the bed and pulled the cover off her body. A man had to have his priorities.

Sophia had always hated getting up in the morning. However, this time she was struggling for consciousness, reaching for pleasure that grew progressively more intense the more she woke.

Stretching languorously, she arched her hips and legs restlessly. Soft hair brushed against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Lifting heavy lids, she peeked down.
Oh, God
…It was Gio. And he was…
oh, God
.

His mouth was magic. And holy shit it was aggressive. He was holding her hips down, because even now she was writhing uncontrollably, bucking and straining against his hands. Licking up and down her folds, he ate her with abandon, sucking in her clit to his mouth. He rolled his tongue over it before moving one hand to caress and probe her entrance.

Her pussy tightened and spasmed on his fingers, trying to keep him inside her to rub that magical little spot he’d claimed and made his own. But he was teasing her now. A single finger snaked inside her before retreating and entering again until he was fucking her in a steady rhythm.

But it wasn’t enough. What she craved was his thick and heavily veined cock.

It was too big and thick actually. She was a large woman, but not down there. That didn’t matter, though. The pain she felt at taking him was minor, not even worth mentioning. Not compared to the ecstasy he gave her.

“Gio, please,” she gasped, trying to pull him upward.

But he had other ideas. “No,” he said. “One in my mouth, Sophia. Give me one my mouth, please.”

It sounded more like a command than a plea. His tongue was in her now, working in and out, withdrawing occasionally to nibble on her clit. Over and over again he penetrated her until she was half crazy, moaning and panting in abandon. She gloried in the sensation, reveling greedily in each wave as the pleasure built.

When it crashed down, it was like being flung on the shore, broken and dashed to pieces. Tensing, she arced like her body had been shot through with electricity. Her vision blurred, and she cried out in a heart-stopping climax.

Gio let her fall, but only briefly. Melting into the bed, she was still experiencing twinges of dissipating bliss when his shaft pushed at her entrance. He thrust inside, filling her completely. The rhythm was rough and deliciously hard before he surprised her by twisting, flipping them around until she landed on top of him. He urged her to straddle him, grabbing her waist and guiding until she was riding him, slowly at first and then faster and faster.

He tugged her forward, cupping her full breasts. Lifting his head, he took one tight nipple in his mouth. Her rhythm broke as he licked and bit the swollen bud. Grabbing his head, she held on tight while the spasms started again.

His hands kept moving, running over every inch of her skin. He palmed her ass cheek, kneading and stroking as he flipped over so he was on top. Then he withdrew, nearly breaking her heart. But her disappointment was temporary. He sat back on his haunches and pulled her on top of him. Happy to oblige, she straddled his lap again, although now they were sitting in the middle of the bed.