Page 242 of Stalking Ginevra

Instead, I turn to where my security people mingle in the crowd and bellow, “Everybody out!”

ONE HUNDRED NINE

GINEVRA

What the hell did I just unleash?

I cling to the lapels of his jacket, glancing over Benito’s shoulder as his men usher people toward the exits. Heart pounding, I gulp as every membrane of my throat dries. I only wanted him to be the sex object for once, but this is ridiculous.

“Are you really clearing the casino for me?”

He grabs my hips, pulling me flush against his erection. “Nothing’s more important than you. The business can go to hell.”

This is crazy. I wanted to return to his office. Or even a private room. Not disrupt millions of dollars worth of transactions. Before I can even protest, his lips descend on mine for another kiss.

The echoes of chatter and clinking chips fade, leaving the two of us in the hush of an emptied floor. He lifts me off my feet and sets me on a poker table, the felt brushing my fingertips. Chips and cards scatter as he lays me flat, but this may as well be another world. I’m losing my mind. Losing my resolve. Losing track of why I came here. Losing myself in Benito’s embrace.

All the rage, all the hurt dissolves into the heat of this kiss, in the fire that’s always burned whenever we touch. His lips devour mine like he’s starving, in this moment of madness, and I forget why I ever left. My body craves the intensity, the passion I thought I could escape.

“I’m a selfish bastard,” he murmurs against my mouth, his breath ragged. “But I’ll do anything not to lose you.”

His words ripple through my defenses, settling in the hollow ache I’ve carried for months. What I said earlier was on impulse. I should fight—push him away, but the pounding of his heart against mine is intoxicating.

“I don’t deserve this second chance. I’ve hurt you, manipulated you, controlled you.” This time, his admission is like he’s baring his soul, laying it at my feet. “But you’ve always been my everything. You’re the blood running through my veins, the only source of color in my world. Without you, everything is gray.”

The raw need in his words sends shivers racing down my spine, and his desperation seeps into my skin. No force in the universe could pull me away from this moment, not even my shattered pieces of self-preservation.

Benito’s grip tightens, pulling me closer into his orbit, his hands tracing my sides. The kiss deepens, and my fingers tangle in his thick hair, clutching as if letting go means losing him forever.

“What if I can’t forgive you?” I whisper against his lips. “I can’t forget everything you made me suffer.”

He draws back to look me full in the face. “I don’t deserve forgiveness, and I never want you to forget. But I swear to spend the rest of my life making sure no one will ever make you suffer.”

Maybe I’m touch-starved. Maybe I’m awestruck that he’s disrupted the casino. Maybe we’re two halves of the sametwisted soul, but something inside me snaps. All my restraint crumbles, giving way to fierce need.

His eyes—vulnerable and haunted—hold traces of the man I once loved buried beneath layers of control and regret. I rip open his shirt, sending buttons scattering across the green felt, tumbling off the table and clicking onto the floor.

With trembling hands, I drag my fingers over the chiseled planes of his chest, which rise and fall with each ragged breath. My touch trails lower, gliding over his abs as I crave a taste of his raw power, even though I swore to stay away.

He tears off my tank top, exposing my skin to the cool air. Overhead, the low hum of the lights casts a faint glow, outlining him in neon hues.

His dark eyes gleam. “I’ll prove to you, every single day, that the man who hurt you no longer exists.”

“Really?” I whisper.

“Every hour, every minute, every mother fucking second. I’ll start right now by worshiping you as my goddess.”

His hands slip under the waistband of my leggings, tracing lines of fire down my sides, branding me with every touch. It’s familiar, yet electrifying, fueling the magnetic force of our desire.

“I won’t move in with you,” The words slip out, breathless, and my heart pounds as I wait for his answer.

“Don’t,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my jaw. “All I’m asking for is a chance to let me prove that I’ve changed.”

Heaven help me, I’m hopelessly drawn to this sweet poison. Surrendering, even though it might end in ruin.

My hands fall back to his belt, trembling as I yank it open, the buckle clinking as I tear at the fly. I shove down his pants, exposing the rigid length of an erection pushing against his silk boxers. His breath hitches, and I groan, my fingers tracing the thick outline, feeling him pulse beneath my touch.

When he moans, the sound sends a rush of desire straight to my core. My clit aches. My folds become slick. I’ve missed this. Missed him.

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