Page 11 of Stealing Her Heart
Last night, he did set me free. For the first time in my life, I felt as if I could go anywhere with him, do anything we wanted, without repercussions. That is a freedom I have never known. Even if I have to wait to be with him, that feeling is worth being patient.
“Not that I am a patient princess,” I mutter as I climb from bed.
In the shower as I lather my skin up with the luxurious strawberry soap I got from Italy, I cannot stop thinking about him. About how he touched me. How much I loved it when he spanked me. It turned me on until I was soaking wet, stunning me. I never knew I would have that sort of kink inside me.
Now I want to upset him, to push him, so he does it again. Just thinking about his big palm smacking my ass makes my clit pulse beneath the water. I gasp as the sensitive bud swells under the pressure of the shower. Stepping back, I lift my hips, hands sliding over my soapy breasts, visions of Gabriel on his knees, his mouth licking at me driving me mad.
“Oh...oh, yes,” I cry out as the hot water hits my clit just right, playing into the fantasy until an orgasm rocks me out of nowhere. “Oh! Gabriel!”
Under the hot spray, I tremble from the power of my climax. I am aching when I step out of the shower, wrapping myself in a towel. I step out of the en suite, stunned to see an unwelcome guest in my bedroom. I reach for my robe, feeling wrong wrapped in just a towel with Santino’s greedy glare eating me up.
“Looks as if I came a moment too late. I could have joined you,” he declares as he saunters over, circling me the way a shark does its prey.
“Wh-w-what're you doing here? In my bedroom?”
“Can’t I see my future bride whenever I choose? I missed you,” his sharp tone, cold as ice, makes his claim fall flat.
“No one should be in here. This is my space. My only fucking space.”
“Better get used to sharing your space with me,mi bella,” he hisses, running his nose along my bare shoulder.
Squaring my shoulders, I step back from him, struggling to keep my cool. Any other time, I would mouth off. I would tell him to get lost. Shout or scream or throw a fit. It turns out I might not be the princess I joked I was—I might just be a little brat.
“Not yet. Not until the wedding,” I declare, my voice strong. “Until then I am free. Get out of my bedroom. It is not proper for you to be here now.”
“Calm down,mi bella,” he says as if he has bored of my antics so fast. “I just came to let you know we’re going to dinner tomorrow. Need to make an appearance as the besotted lovers. Everyone should see that you’re mine.”
Shaking my head but refusing to respond, I wait for him to go. He might think as my fiancé he has a right to my body. He is wrong. Even if I have to go through with the marriage, I willnevergive him my body.
Once he leaves, I consider taking a second shower. Him touching me or even looking at me after last night with Gabriel makes me feel filthy. I panic at the idea of Gabriel finding out he was here, that he touched me, so I give on taking another shower. All I can think about is getting to Gabriel to tell him what just happened, and what Santino has demanded of me.
Dressing in a light pink dress that hangs off my shoulders with thin straps and a ruffled drape, I stumble as I slide on sandals. Piling my damp hair atop my head, I try to decide the best way to get to him. Recalling the bodyguard, he sent after me, I decide he ought to be of some help.
Making it outside through the gardens, I reach the high stone wall that is meant to keep me inside. Climbing up on the boulder that took me an entire day to roll to a corner of the wall, I almost laugh. What a rebel I am. I hoist myself up and swing my leg over the wall and now I am laughing.
Sitting there in plain sight is the bodyguard from yesterday. As if he knew I would be coming out this way. Smirking at me, he opens the door, bending at the waist to wave me in. We both laugh as I jog across the street, never even looking back.
“I presume you want to see the boss, Ms. Bianchi?”
“You presume correct. Smart guy. I will sing your praises to him.”
“Please do. Still trying to prove myself to him and Dario.”
On the drive to his penthouse in the flashiest borough of Silver Shores, this young bodyguard never says a word. It is not a tense or uncomfortable quiet. Rather we’re just in our own thoughts and at ease with each other. I do not feel the judgement or contempt I often do with my old bodyguards.
We pull up in front of a towering, gleaming glass building. It is the tallest in town and with the sun shining overhead, it sparkles almost as a glittering castle might. Remembering how Gabriel calls me his princess, I am beaming as I head inside and board the elevator. Stefano, my new bodyguard, let me know how to get in and suggested Gabriel will be expecting me.
Riding up in the elevator, I am shaking. Anxious to see him, to feel his hands on me, to feel the magic he creates inside of me. I bounce on the balls of my feet, wringing my hands in front of me. As soon as the elevator doors slide open, I am afraid if have made a huge mistake.
Two beautiful, elegant women sit at a wide, long couch that fills the sunken in sitting room. It is a beautiful room, just as I imagined, with gold and marble accents, dark photos of the city hanging on the walls. Outside the entire city sits below, gray against the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Oh. Who is this?” One of the women call, glancing back at me.
“Uh...uh, hi? Hello...I think I might have....” Stumbling over my words as well as my two left feet, I start to back up. To get the hell out of here.
“No, no, wait. Tell us what brought you here.”
Shaking my head, I feel shameful tears flood my eyes as my vision blurs. How could I have been so stupid? Why would I have believed all those things he said to me? Did he say them to these women too? Has he...has he touched them the way he touched me?
