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“Iris Scavo,” I said, reaching out for a handshake.
He took my fingers in his and bent down, keeping his heavy eyes fixed on me, and brushed his mouth over my hand. As he did, I glanced up and Duran’s jaw was hard and his body was tensed as though he might stand and confront Viktor at any moment. Then Viktor dipped his head and turned gracefully, moving across the restaurant until he was out of sight.
“Fucking bastard,” Duran breathed.
“He didn’t seem all that bad,” I said lightly.
Duran’s eyes smoldered. “You stay away from men like him, you understand?”
His commanding tone sent another wave of heat down my thighs and stomach that warred with the annoyance in my chest. How dare he order me around like that? I shrugged and reached for my wine, but he seized my wrist in his hard fingers. I froze and studied his face, trying to gauge how serious his anger was. This side of him, despite having made an appearance when he discovered I’d looked at his laptop, was still mysterious and a little frightening.
“This is my world, Iris,” he said in a low voice. “You listen to what I tell you if you don’t want to get hurt. Understood?”
This time I accepted his command without protest. There was something at the edge of his tone that frightened me and made me wonder just what he could be capable of if pushed hard enough.
At that moment, our food arrived. The platter was piled high with steaming mussels, cold oysters, buttered lobster, delectable morsels of raw and cooked fish, fresh lemons on ice, and a smattering of fragrant herbs. My stomach tightened and I watched him fold his napkin over his lap, unsure if I could dig in yet.
“Eat,” he said. “You’ll need your strength.”
I pulled the inside of a mussel out with my fork and laid it on my tongue, buttery flavor bursting in my mouth. A low moan escaped my throat before I could stop it and Duran’s gaze jerked to me, his mouth twitching.
“That’s my girl,” he said, lifting his scotch to his lips.
“I’m not your girl,” I corrected. “And why do I need to keep my strength up? Are we going somewhere else?”
“I’m going to take you home and seduce you,” he said casually.
I paused, a piece of lobster suspended on my fork. He’d talked about how he wanted more of me all day, but he’d never said it with such conviction, as though he’d already completed his mission. The warmth stirred again and I shifted, pressing my thighs together to dull the ache. There was a raw desire in his face and his eyes burned like live coals. Something had set him off, taking him from teasing flirtations to outright lust. Had Viktor’s attention roused a beast he wasn’t able to temper? A shiver went down my spine and my breath caught, my heart beating oddly against my ribs.
“I’m not having sex until I’m married,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster.
He narrowed his gaze. “You’ve had sex, princess.”
“No, I have not.”
“Oral sex counts and we definitely engaged in a good bit of that. You might be a technical virgin, but you’re halfway broken in. However, I won’t push you if that’s truly your intent,” he said.
I stared at him, unsure whether to be insulted or aroused. Settling on insulted, I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms, narrowing my gaze to match his. There was a long, tense moment where I began feeling a bit like prey beneath his intense stare. And then he shifted his chair closer and reached across the table, his hard fingers brushing my face as they slipped to the back of my neck.
Then he leaned forward and I caught a glimpse of the dark hair on his chest as the collar of his shirt gaped. His breath was hot and smelled of scotch as he drew me close and his mouth skimmed to mine, just brushing my lips. I stilled, my brain going blank and my body melting as a powerful desire to drag my nails through the hair on his chest swept through me. He shifted even closer, pulling me against him until I was almost in his lap, and his mouth skimmed over my neck, just below my ear. My legs clenched and there was a fluttering sensation in my stomach.
This was how he was going to do it, I thought as his mouth moved slowly over my throat, focusing in the hollow between my collarbones. He wasn’t a good man; he was the kind my mother had warned me about when I first started dating. He would ply me with his kisses, caress my body until I lost control, and he would get me into his bed before I even thought to stop him.
Then he kissed my mouth, his thumb against my throat, and his tongue teased at my lips. He tasted of something forbidden and endlessly intoxicating. I was weak, leaning against his shoulder as his hand explored my waist and thighs beneath the table. Who was he? An expert seducer or a mafia monster who ran deadly weapons for God knows who? Or perhaps he was somehow both.
“Let’s go,” he murmured against my ear.
I didn’t fight him this time as he paid and led me from the restaurant back out to the car. In the car, he pulled me into his lap and his fingers found the fastenings of my dress. He paused, his dark eyes studying my face, thick with an emotion that frightened me a little and aroused me far more. Then he undid my dress and let it fall from my torso, pooling around my waist.
I knew what he wanted and, in the heat of the moment, I wanted it just as much. My fingers shook a little as I reached around and undid my bra, sliding it from my breasts. The cool air hit them and my nipples puckered, hard and pink and flushed with arousal. His gaze dropped and his throat moved as he swallowed, his hands moving up my thighs, up my waist, and those hard, perfect fingers skimmed over my sensitive breasts. A jolt of electricity shot through my body and I arched, a quiet moan tearing from my body.
The car moved quickly, city lights spinning by us in the dark. Duran leaned forward, holding me upright, and his mouth closed over my left nipple. His tongue was hot and wet, curling around my nipple with expert strokes. I bit my lip so hard I tasted a little blood and buried my hand in the short hair on the back of his head.
He unwound me, stroke by stroke, kiss by kiss, touch by touch. There was little resistance left.
“I want you so bad, princess,” he breathed, pushing his face against my throat. His fingers stroked my nipples with wanton obsession, pinching and twisting and sending waves of pleasure between my thighs.
Into my mind came the image of him at the bar, collected and mysterious. I didn’t know him then and I wasn’t sure if I knew him any better now. What he did, the illegal and bloody work men like him engaged with, suddenly didn’t frighten me anymore. I’d known enough families with mafia ties. But even our brief night together hadn’t prepared me for the crescendo of emotion and sensation that his touch brought on now. Something had changed between then and now.
