Italian Stallions (24 page)

He saw her throat work as she swallowed. “Big family gatherings get to me.”

“Cut the bullshit,” he said in the same no-nonsense tone he used for work. “I know something’s bugging you that’s got nothing to do with your family. Is it me? You don’t want to show up with me tomorrow?”

Her mouth fell open in a genuine look of surprise. “Of course not. How could you even think that? In fact,” she laughed humorlessly, “most likely they’re going to wonder why you’re with
me
.”

“Why would you say something like that?” Okay, she’d said stuff like this before, casual comments he blew off as her insecurity about her age or income level in comparison to him. But lately he wondered if there was something more going on.

She shook her head. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“What is so bad about you that you think it’s going to make me walk away from you?” he asked, hands flung out in exasperation.

Her lashes lay dark and thick against her cheekbones as she closed her eyes and her plump lips compressed into a tight line. Still she didn’t say anything.

He’d never felt like this toward a woman, wanting to simultaneously shake her until she finally opened up to him, and wanting to hold her close and reassure her that nothing she revealed could ever make him turn his back on her.

Because he loved her.

His blood vessels constricted and his stomach bottomed out at the thought. But there it was.

He moved down his big leather couch until he was mere inches from her. He reached out a hand that shook only a little and cupped her cheek. “Theresa,” he searched for the right words, feeling like an incompetent ass. “I care about you.” God, what a plain vanilla word that was to describe what he felt, but he wasn’t quite ready to drop the L-bomb. “A lot. And I really want this to work out between us.”

Her big brown eyes were getting watery. “I want it to work out too. But I don’t know if it can.”

“It can if you trust me enough to tell me what’s going on with you.”

“It’s not that easy, Vince.”

“Why not? I’m sitting here, telling you how much I want to be with you, telling you that nothing you say is going to change that.”

She gave him a funny half smile and caught his hand in hers. “That’s really sweet, Vince.” She leaned forward, closing the distance between them and pressed her mouth against his. “But I don’t want to talk anymore tonight.” Her tongue teased open his lips, and a shaft of heat went straight to his groin. Her hand cupped him brazenly, stroking him through his fly.

She was using sex to distract him. And, he was ashamed to admit, he was an easy mark.

Sweet. She called him sweet. He sure as shit didn’t feel sweet. There were a whole lot of intense, conflicting things churning around in his guts, and sweet definitely wasn’t one of them. Anger, lust, need. Love, confusion, and fear.

All of it boiling up until it came out in a mad rush. He kissed her hard, his lips and tongue almost punishing as he yanked her shirt and pants off. His fist twisted in her silky panties until they ripped. The second she was naked his fingers probed between her legs, sinking inside her hot, wet core.

Satisfaction tugged low in his gut as his cock got superhard. She might be using sex to distract him, but she wanted him as bad as he wanted her. Her back arched as he dragged his fingers out, then thrust back in. He yanked the cup of her bra aside and closed his teeth over her nipple, biting down just hard enough to make her cry out before hitting it with the wet lash of his tongue.

He picked her up off the couch and carried her to the bed, tossing her down on the mattress as he paused to yank off his shirt. Socks, pants and boxers went flying, and he came down over her with all the subtlety and finesse of a Mack truck.

If this was the only way she would let him get close, then so be it. He wasn’t going to waste his time trying to get in her head, to get her to tell him what she was thinking and feeling. But she was his, and it was about time she realized it.

He rolled her to her back and gripped her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head as he kneed her legs apart.

She squirmed under him, trying to break free of his hold. “Let go of my wrists,” she said, a hot flush of color blooming across her breasts and chest. “I don’t like this.”

He looked at her nipples, pointing vehemently at the ceiling, and he dipped his fingers into her slick folds. “Oh, I think you do, sweet thing.” He drew his fingers out, spread her cream over her labia and clit for emphasis. Her hips rocked against his fingers, proving his point. He wanted to push her, see how much she could take, show her that her body knew exactly what she wanted.

She wanted him, no matter how she tried to push him away.

And he wanted her, with a soul-deep ache that made him half crazy every time he got in the same room with her. He bent to kiss her, sucking her tongue into his mouth, sliding his bare chest against the soft fullness of her tits. His cock rode the slick cleft of her pussy, slipping and sliding along her clit until they were both moaning from the delicious friction.

“Please,” she whispered against his lips, “let me touch you.”

“No,” he said, “you want to fuck, fine, but tonight we’re doing this my way.” Her dark eyes widened with confusion. He didn’t blame her. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him either. But he’d be damned if he’d stop himself.

He bent his head to suck at the soft skin of her throat. A little mark appeared almost instantly, a tiny bruise marring the pale expanse. He liked that. Liked that he’d marked her. After tonight, she would have other marks in other tender places. Then tomorrow she’d sit across the table from him with the evidence of their sex on her. No matter how hard she tried to keep her distance out of bed, she wouldn’t be able to escape those tiny, physical reminders.

He loved that.

He was fucking insane.

Theresa jumped under the almost painful pressure of his mouth as he rained firm, biting kisses down her neck, across her chest. He was different tonight, more forceful, more dominant than he’d ever been. As though he was calling her on her attempt to distract him with sex.

He hadn’t let go of his anger and frustration, he was channeling it. Into his hard, forceful kisses, in the impatient touch of his hands. It freaked her out a little. Not just the way he was acting, but how much she liked it.

She moaned as his mouth closed hard over her nipple and his cock burrowed between her legs. She was pinned, helpless underneath him. Yet she knew with one thousand percent certainty that Vince would never, ever hurt her. Despite his much greater size and weight, he would stop the second she stopped liking it.

And, God, did she like it. Loved it. Loved the way he touched her with near frantic urgency. Loved the way his breath came hot and heavy over her skin. Loved the way his hard cock slid against her clit until she was dying for him to fuck her hard and deep. Her hands flexed against the pillow where he had them pinned, her biceps strained as she tried to free them. She wanted to feel the hard muscles flexing under his hot skin, trace the beads of sweat trickling down his abs with her fingertips.

He wouldn’t give an inch. His mouth sucked at her nipples, his teeth adding an edge that rode a fine line of pain. Another surge of wetness soaked his erection, drenching him with the evidence of her need. “Vince, please,” she whispered, shifting under him, trying to get the thick head aligned with her opening. “I want you inside me.”

“Not yet.” He lifted his head from her breasts. Her nipples were sharp, dark points, and the pale skin showed his love bites and the rasp of his whiskers. “You gotta be careful what you start with me.”

The wealthy businessman had disappeared. He sounded like a menacing wiseguy, like one of those guys who’d tried to take the restaurant from Gia.

Somehow it turned Theresa on even more.

Vince leaned up and kissed her, and this time she gave as good as she got, sucking hard on his tongue, nipping his bottom lip when he tried to pull away. His eyes were wild and fierce; he licked his lip where she’d bit him and his mouth tilted up at the corner.

“Oh yeah? What are you going to do to me?” she taunted, arching her back and spreading her legs. His nostrils flared and he shifted his position so he was kneeling astride her hips.

His cock thrust aggressively from his hips, bobbing with every move. His balls were heavy and tight against his body.

He let go of her hands and palmed himself. Theresa unconsciously licked her lips as he pumped himself in his fist, once, twice.

Then he moved up her body, thrusting his hips until his cock rested in the deep valley of her cleavage.

“Push your tits together,” he said in a gravely whisper, shunting his hips against the soft skin until she could feel the head of his cock bump her throat.

She pressed her arms against her breasts, squeezing him so tight his shaft was buried in the giving flesh. Only the head of his penis was visible, huge and red and luscious as a plum.

Theresa bent her head, her tongue snaking out to dance around the tip. He groaned and thrust more firmly, the head of his cock pushing into her mouth as he fucked her tits. She sucked at him, licked at him, greedily swallowed the drops of pre-come that beaded at the tip.

He pulled away without warning, drawing his hips back when she would have closed her lips over him again. Before she could react he closed his hands over her hips and flipped her onto her stomach.

“On your knees.” Even as a lick of uneasiness shivered down her spine, she didn’t hesitate to obey. She propped herself on her forearms and tucked her knees under her, spreading them wide as she anticipated that first thrust.

Vince felt a rush of lust so hot, so thick, it almost made him light-headed. Theresa knelt before him, looking over her shoulder with a knowing, needy look. He’d meant to pull a power play on her, show her who was in charge. But for all that she was the one on her knees, he was the one who felt like he’d been slain.

Her body was perfection, her lush round ass tilted up, legs spread, giving him an unimpeded view of her juicy, succulent sex. It made him crazy to know how much she wanted him. Her smooth folds were shiny and slick, pulsing in deepening shades of pink. “So pretty,” he whispered, dragging his fingers down her hot slit before donning a condom.

He wrapped one hand around her hip and used the other to guide his cock into her wet, willing body. As he sank deep, she let out a keening sound that went straight to his balls, grabbed on and didn’t let go.

Thank God she was as aroused as he was, because he was beyond control, pumping and thrusting into her like a stallion over a mare. His chest heaved in and out like a bellows as he watched his cock sink inside her and emerge, shiny and wet. He gripped her hips and rode her hard, balls tightening as her cries grew more frantic with every penetration.

He hunched over her and slipped his hand between her thighs. His middle finger drew tight circles around the tight knot of nerves as he continued to pound into her. She heaved and bucked underneath him, her pussy clenching around his cock like she wanted to swallow him whole.

She yelled his name as she came, her cries muffled by the pillow. Vince could feel his own orgasm bearing down on him, gripping him by the balls, working its way up to the base of his spine. He dug his fingers into her hips, holding her still as he thrust as deep as he possibly could, his entire body jerking convulsively with the force of his climax.

He collapsed next to her, rolling her to the side so he could spoon her smaller body against his. She rolled to face him and burrowed her face into his chest. Her arms wrapped around him in a fierce, almost desperate grip.

He pulled her closer even as he mentally shook his head. One minute he could swear she was pulling away, and now she was clinging to him like he was a life preserver in the open sea.

A thousand questions about her, about them, swirled through his head, leaving him keyed up with a restless energy that even bone-deep sexual satisfaction couldn’t diminish. He sighed heavily and ran his hand up her back, slipping it under her hair to rest on the back of her neck.

He played with the baby-soft curls at her nape, drifting, thinking about her words.
I want it to work, but I’m not sure it can.
What did she mean by that? Sure, they had their differences. Their age difference to start. Thirty-five and twenty-four wasn’t exactly May-December, but they were definitely at different points in their lives. He was used to women who were straightforward about what they wanted, from him, from life. Women who didn’t have a lot of time to fuck around.

Maybe that was the problem. He thought back to the relationships he’d had when he was in his twenties, what the women were like. There had been a lot of push-me-pull-you going on as he recalled.

Maybe Theresa was just young, playing games.

He sure as shit hoped not. He hadn’t had the patience for it ten years ago, and he damn sure didn’t now.

His fingers unconsciously tightened in Theresa’s hair and she let out a little squeak of pain.

“Sorry,” he murmured, disentangling his fingers from her hair and softly stroking the back of her neck. He ran his fingers up, down again, until it hit him. “Where is your necklace?”

She froze against him, only for an second, but this close he could feel her hold her breath, feel her heartbeat pick up speed. “I took it off when I took a shower this morning and forgot to put it back on.”

A cold knot settled in his stomach. She was lying. He’d bet his life on it. But why?

“Why would you take it off to get in the shower?” he pressed.

“The clasp got tangled in my hair when I tried to wash it.”

A perfectly plausible excuse, but pure bullshit. He knew it like he knew his own name. “Did you lose it?”

She pushed away, propped herself up on her elbows and glared at him. “No, I didn’t lose it. What is with you tonight? Why are you so hellbent on picking a fight with me?”

He knew exactly why, but right now he didn’t want to go there. He rolled off the bed and stalked to his walk-in closet.