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Authors: Tara Crescent
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truth.”
“What truth?” My voice was soft. I knew what he was referring to.
“I could kiss another woman, and every man in that club would be accessible to you once again, Lucia. Tell me why that isn’t satisfactory.”
I stayed silent. Antonio just waited, watching my face. I stared at the floor stubbornly. No. This was a gift of too much value. I wasn’t going to tell him he mattered.
The silence grew between us. Finally, he broke it. “Stay with honesty, little thief,” he said quietly. “Or go.”
“Honesty is a precious gift.” My voice was harsh.
When he spoke, his voice was gentler than I’d ever heard it. “I do not undervalue the worth of what you offer, Lucia.”
A moment passed. Then another. “I don’t want you kissing another woman,” I whispered.
He took two strides and closed the distance between us. He took my hand, and placed it on his chest. I could hear his heart beating. “I wanted to ask you not to go,” he said in reply. His fingers stroked my hand as he looked me in the eye. “Stopping myself from speaking those words was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“You didn’t plan this?” I asked him. I wanted to believe. I really did.
“No, little thief. But I’m not going to lie. I’m happy no one touched you tonight.” His other hand, the one not holding my hand captive to his chest, came up to my face, and stroked my lower lip. I parted my mouth automatically, softening for Antonio the way I always did.
“Why didn’t you ask me not to go?” I asked. He could have asked. I would have obeyed. I would have wanted to please him.
He shook his head. “You aren’t ready yet,” was all he said, cryptically. His tone changed. Crisp, curt syllables now. The time for softness would be later. For now, he was going to hurt me and use me for his pleasure.
“You know the way downstairs, little thief. Go and wait for me.”
Chapter 17
Antonio:
It would have been tacky to cheer, to do a fist-pump in the air when she had confessed she didn’t want me kissing any other woman. My little thief. She fought this thing between us. She wasn’t ready yet to call it what it was. She wasn’t ready yet to hear me tell her that the idea of her with some other man ripped a hole in my heart.
I hugged her confession to myself like the precious, rare gift that it was. My little thief. She was a feisty, wounded kitten. She was skittish. One wrong move on my part, and she’d run.
I didn’t want to pursue her. I wanted her to come to me openly, recognizing her need for me and calling it by its true name. I wanted her eyes to soften when she looked at me, the way mine did when I looked at her. I wanted her heart to thud in her chest when I kissed her. I wanted to hear love in her voice when she called out my name. I wanted all of her.
***
“One and a half drinks,” I said thoughtfully, as I looked at her. “Borderline safe.”
She rolled her eyes. “What did you do? Call Liam? You could have just asked me.”
“You are right,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
She raised her eyebrow. “An apology from Antonio Moretti,” she drawled. “There’s a first time for everything.”
I laughed. “Little thief, from what I recall, I had to spank you silly and threaten to withhold an orgasm for you to apologize for stealing my painting. Should you really be mocking me for this?”
She laughed and inclined her head, conceding the point. I loved this woman. There was so much strength in her. And so much sweetness.
She stood in the center of the dungeon, wearing a black dress that hugged every curve of her body, and I curled my hands into fists at my side at the thought of the men in the club gazing at her. Jealousy wasn’t an emotion I was used to feeling, but with Lucia, I had to constantly remind myself that the possessive, caveman attitude was not helpful. My sweet little thief would run if I pushed too hard.
I could have used her hard, but today, I didn’t want to. I
“What truth?” My voice was soft. I knew what he was referring to.
“I could kiss another woman, and every man in that club would be accessible to you once again, Lucia. Tell me why that isn’t satisfactory.”
I stayed silent. Antonio just waited, watching my face. I stared at the floor stubbornly. No. This was a gift of too much value. I wasn’t going to tell him he mattered.
The silence grew between us. Finally, he broke it. “Stay with honesty, little thief,” he said quietly. “Or go.”
“Honesty is a precious gift.” My voice was harsh.
When he spoke, his voice was gentler than I’d ever heard it. “I do not undervalue the worth of what you offer, Lucia.”
A moment passed. Then another. “I don’t want you kissing another woman,” I whispered.
He took two strides and closed the distance between us. He took my hand, and placed it on his chest. I could hear his heart beating. “I wanted to ask you not to go,” he said in reply. His fingers stroked my hand as he looked me in the eye. “Stopping myself from speaking those words was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“You didn’t plan this?” I asked him. I wanted to believe. I really did.
“No, little thief. But I’m not going to lie. I’m happy no one touched you tonight.” His other hand, the one not holding my hand captive to his chest, came up to my face, and stroked my lower lip. I parted my mouth automatically, softening for Antonio the way I always did.
“Why didn’t you ask me not to go?” I asked. He could have asked. I would have obeyed. I would have wanted to please him.
He shook his head. “You aren’t ready yet,” was all he said, cryptically. His tone changed. Crisp, curt syllables now. The time for softness would be later. For now, he was going to hurt me and use me for his pleasure.
“You know the way downstairs, little thief. Go and wait for me.”
Chapter 17
Antonio:
It would have been tacky to cheer, to do a fist-pump in the air when she had confessed she didn’t want me kissing any other woman. My little thief. She fought this thing between us. She wasn’t ready yet to call it what it was. She wasn’t ready yet to hear me tell her that the idea of her with some other man ripped a hole in my heart.
I hugged her confession to myself like the precious, rare gift that it was. My little thief. She was a feisty, wounded kitten. She was skittish. One wrong move on my part, and she’d run.
I didn’t want to pursue her. I wanted her to come to me openly, recognizing her need for me and calling it by its true name. I wanted her eyes to soften when she looked at me, the way mine did when I looked at her. I wanted her heart to thud in her chest when I kissed her. I wanted to hear love in her voice when she called out my name. I wanted all of her.
***
“One and a half drinks,” I said thoughtfully, as I looked at her. “Borderline safe.”
She rolled her eyes. “What did you do? Call Liam? You could have just asked me.”
“You are right,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
She raised her eyebrow. “An apology from Antonio Moretti,” she drawled. “There’s a first time for everything.”
I laughed. “Little thief, from what I recall, I had to spank you silly and threaten to withhold an orgasm for you to apologize for stealing my painting. Should you really be mocking me for this?”
She laughed and inclined her head, conceding the point. I loved this woman. There was so much strength in her. And so much sweetness.
She stood in the center of the dungeon, wearing a black dress that hugged every curve of her body, and I curled my hands into fists at my side at the thought of the men in the club gazing at her. Jealousy wasn’t an emotion I was used to feeling, but with Lucia, I had to constantly remind myself that the possessive, caveman attitude was not helpful. My sweet little thief would run if I pushed too hard.
I could have used her hard, but today, I didn’t want to. I
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