Page 35 of Hers to Command

Riccardo smirks as he grips my thighs and yanks me closer to the edge of the table, forcing my legs to wrap around his waist. “No,Cara. This is me proving a point.”

I barely have time to register his words before he’s kissing me again, all heat and possession. His hands find the waistband of my pants, tugging them down with no concern for buttons or zippers. The fabric catches against my hips, and I can feel the roughness of his palms as he pulls them lower, exposing my skin inch by inch.

“You don’t get to demand a place at the table when I meet with my allies,” he growls against my mouth, his fingers sliding under the edge of my panties. “You need to earn that.”

I dig my fingernails into his scalp, pulling his head so I can stare into his eyes. “And how do you propose I do that? By fucking you?” The disgust in my voice should make him feel guilty. Instead, he looks amused.

“No, Tesoro. We fuck, because you’re mine. We’ll deal with business later.”

The possessiveness in his tone should piss me off, but instead, it sends a thrill through me, and I grab his face, pulling him closer until I can feel his cock press against me through his pants.

“Then stop talking,” I snap, my nails digging into his shoulders. I’m still mad, but that doesn’t mean I have to skip out on the sex, right?

Riccardo’s answering growl reverberates against my chest as his hands move with purpose, tugging my panties aside andslipping between my thighs. His fingers find my slick heat, and I arch into him, every nerve ending in my body lighting up at his touch.

He leans down, his lips brushing my ear as he whispers, “Careful what you wish for,Tesoro. You might just get more than you can handle.”

But the wicked gleam in his eyes promises he’s at least going to try.

I’m done talking, though, so I reach for his zipper and open his pants. His dick springs free and I wrap my hand around him, moving up and down, while his fingers continue to circle my clit and dip into my pussy. It feels fucking amazing.

Leaning against Riccardo, I nuzzle my face in the soft spot between his neck and shoulder, letting him work his magic while making sure his cock doesn’t feel left out. Except, Riccardo doesn’t seem to have any patience, because suddenly he pushes me backwards onto the table, grabbing my knees and pulling my legs up.

“I’m lying on a fork or something,” I protest, rudely pulled out of my horny frenzy by a hard object poking into my back.

Riccardo pauses, his brow furrowing as he looks down at me sprawled out on the table. His lips twitch like he’s fighting a laugh, and I glare up at him, the heat of the moment interrupted by some stupid cutlery digging into my back.

“Am I supposed to believe this is part of your grand seduction plan?” I snap, wiggling to dislodge whatever utensil is currently stabbing me.

He leans down, brushing his lips against mine with an infuriating softness. “Consider it a test of your resilience,” he murmurs, his voice barely containing his laughter.

I groan, shoving at his chest. “I swear, Riccardo, if I end up with a salad fork permanently embedded in my spine, you’re explaining it to the ER staff.”

He chuckles, a low, rich sound that sends a ripple of heat through me despite my annoyance. “Don’t worry,Cara. I’ll be gentle.”

“Gentle? You just threw me onto a fully set dining table like a barbarian.”

Riccardo straightens, smirking as he casually sweeps his arm across the table, sending plates, glasses, and utensils crashing to the floor in a cacophony of noise.

“Better?” he asks, his tone mockingly polite as he grabs my knees again, pulling me to the edge of the now-cleared surface.

I blink up at him, torn between frustration and begrudging amusement. “You’re paying for the damages.”

He leans down, his breath hot against my lips. “Worth every penny,” he says before capturing my mouth in a searing kiss that instantly erases any lingering annoyance. Or, at least, the annoyance over the stabbing. The rest of my anger is merely being restrained in favor of my more immediate needs.

Riccardo’s hands grip my thighs, spreading me wide, and I shiver at the way his gaze devours me.

“Now,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough as he positions himself at my entrance. “Let’s see if you can handle me.”

I smirk, defiant even as my body trembles with anticipation. “I’ve been handling men like you my whole life.”

“Men like me?” he asks, pressing just enough to make me gasp but holding back, teasing.

“Cocky, overconfident, and entirely too good-looking for your own good,” I reply, my nails digging into his arms.

Riccardo laughs, the noise sounding more dangerous than amused, as he finally thrusts into me, making me cry out in surprise and pleasure. “You’ve never met anyone like me, Anya,” he growls, and I can’t even argue because, in this moment, he’s absolutely right.

And then he fucks me until I shatter on that dining room table.

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