Dating the Don (Savage Crime Lords #1)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

MAEVE

One Week Later

I don’t think I’m ever going to truly get used to seeing Cristiano just walking around in the same space as me. I keep waking up in bed next to him and expecting it to start to feel more normal somehow but I guess when somebody looks that good every second of the day, it’s not something that’s easy to get used to.

I can’t stop looking at him. Somehow, he makes putting on cufflinks look sexy.

He’s chosen a simple black outfit for the evening. He’s hosting a lavish engagement party for us tonight and I have to admit that I’m starting to get a little bit excited. Foolish, I know. It’s just a deal. It will be over sooner or later. But maybe it’s okay if I let myself pretend for just a little bit.

The makeup brush in my hand is momentarily forgotten as he fastens the jewels to his shirt before turning his focus back to me.

It doesn’t matter that the force of his attention is diluted through the mirror that I’m watching him through. I fumble anyway. He gives me a wry, easy smile as he starts to move toward me and I make a dramatic show of wiping my blush over the apples of my cheeks and hastily drop the thing back onto the vanity table in front of me. He seems so comfortable in his skin with every movement that it makes me almost feel jealous. I want to disarm him the same way. Yet, he’s so comfortable around me, it’s almost like he’s been waiting his whole life to be able to touch me so freely.

Even now, the moment he’s close enough to touch me, he does. His curled knuckles run down the bare skin of my back. The dress that I’ve chosen is black only because he requested it. He knows I would have opted for color otherwise. My short red hair is pinned back behind one ear and kept in place with a gold rectangular pin. And the dangling earrings I have on are adorned with large rainbow-colored diamonds. I like them because they reflect the light no matter what angle you look at them from.

Cristiano's knuckles follow the contour of my bare spine, just coming to a stop slightly below the curve of my back as they pass over the skirt's hem. Although the front isn't nearly as provocative, there is a small amount of cleavage shown because the tiny straps are fastened behind my neck. But what I like most about it is the thigh-high slit in the front.

“I like this.” Cristiano compliments as his hand flattens and turns over the exposed skin, and then back up until he can cup the front of my neck possessively. It’s such a subtle touch, but I feel the warmth of it everywhere. My eyes lift to his reflection and I fight to keep from leaning back into him as he stands tall behind me.

“Thank you,” I answer easily.

Though, why do I have to fight the urge? The door is locked, it’s not like we haven’t indulged over the last week together. I lean back into his body, and the grip he has on my neck shifts, claiming.

“Careful,” he warns.

My answering smile is devilish. “Or what?”

The challenge in my voice is instantly met. In a moment he’s spun me around and stepped closer, one of his legs parting mine as he looks down over me. “You know, I think you’re starting to like the struggle simply for struggle’s sake.”

“And what if I am?”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to simply ask for what you want?”

Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m certainly not going to dignify that question with a response.

Cristiano bends at the waist with a knowing smirk. “Or would you rather I simply started taking what I want from you?”

His fingers shift, holding my jaw firmly, but not hurting, even though I know that he could if he wanted to. Instead, he lowers his face to mine, kissing me with such softness that I almost can’t stand it. I almost want to push for more, to challenge him into something that I don’t even know. But just like that, he’s gone.

My lips chase after his despite my best efforts and he chuckles darkly as he steps away from me.

“Tsk tsk. I wouldn’t want to smudge your lipstick.”

I bite my bottom lip. My pride tries to keep me in place. It tries to make me see reason but I can’t. That kiss wasn’t nearly enough. “Please,” I mutter, the sound barely a whisper.

Cristiano raises his brows. Surprise flits over his face for only half a second before he holds a hand out to me to help me to my feet. A gesture that I happily accept. Only, he pulls me so swiftly that my body collides into his, my breasts flattening against his chest as his one hand finds my ass and the other cups the back of my neck at the same moment. He envelops me, the oaky undertones of his cologne wrap around us both as he kisses me so soundly that I forget how to breathe.

Fuck the makeup. Forget the whole party, actually. It seems like a much, much better idea just to stay here like this. That’s what I really would rather to be doing anyway. Somehow, it’s started to seem like the only times that I don’t have to think about what’s coming or worry about anything is when we are here in his room together. Our room.

I pull him closer to me, a needy moan of hunger leaving my lips as I open for him. I let my mind turn off and just drift easily into the bliss of sensation. I only exist where he’s touching me. No worries or troubles, just the desire that he magically coaxes brighter and brighter inside of me.

I want the red of my lipstick all over him.

Just for tonight, I want to claim him. I want the whole world to see that he’s been marked by me and me alone. I break the kiss only long enough to press a deep mark of red right on the side of his neck where the collar of his shirt won’t be able to hide it. My gaze is heavy and lidded as I look up at him. He doesn't smile. I can’t read the emotions on his face as he looks from me to the reflection of what I’ve done on his neck, and then back to me.

Something softens as his thumb runs over my bottom lip. Something between us shifts, lust no longer driving my actions but something more deliberate. I moved with intention. I wanted to mark him and I have no right to do that.

“Fuck… I didn’t…” Excuses are right there on the tip of my tongue, ready to tumble off and into the air between us to rectify the awkwardness that I’ve caused when he shakes his head.

“Shut up,” he whispers and kisses me again. The command in his voice would have kept me from protesting, but this is exactly what I wanted in the first place.

He walks us back toward the vanity and spins me once more. Fast enough that I have to slap my hands down on it to keep from falling forward. Cristiano is right there, quickly wrapping an arm around me and keeping me upright so that my back is pressed against his chest. He cups my jaw again with the other hand and forces me to look at our reflection in the mirror.

“Look at us, Maeve,” he commands as if I could look anywhere else. “Do you see someone who needs to apologize for anything? Because what I see, is a woman who wanted something and took it.”

I let my gaze drift to his neck. He nods in confirmation.

“I do not see a woman who doubts herself. Certainly not tonight when everybody is here for her, and her alone. Do you understand me?” Cristiano kisses my cheek softly, and then my jaw. “And if this woman doesn’t want to be in control? That’s okay, too.”

His voice feels like it’s sinking into my skin, crawling down through my veins, and spreading through my whole body as it rumbles against my skin. I should be embarrassed. I shouldn’t allow him to make me feel like this. I should put a stop to this but, as his lips brush against my neck, I can’t be bothered to protest.

“You can let me have control, baby,” Cristiano assures me. “I will always take good care of what’s mine.”

I believe him. Fuck, I believe him.

Would it be so terrible if I let myself belong to him?

Even if it’s just for tonight?

I can let go. I can stop worrying tonight. He won’t let anything happen to me.

His touch and words have me intoxicated. Especially when his hand leaves my waist and moves up the soft skirt of my dress, one inch at a time. It's painfully slow, yet it moves quickly enough that I can't object or allow my own modesty toget in the way.

His fingers brush against my sex, finding it bare from the lack of panties. He groans, pleased, as he cups me. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you, Maeve? How did you know just what to do to please me?”

“The… panty lines… obvious…” I can’t formulate a good answer, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t even be embarrassed by my own blabbering as his fingers dip lower, plunging inside of me, my knees damn near giving out.

Cristiano hums his approval of my responsiveness as he adds another finger. My breathing grows labored. My eyes start to drift shut to relish in the sensation but the moment they close, the grip on my jaw tightens and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “None of that now. Good girls watch like they are supposed to.”

If it didn’t feel so fucking good, I might have fought him on it.

“That way, they can get their rewards,” Cristiano mutters into my ear. He might as well be speaking directly into my core.

I can’t stop watching us, the way his hand disappears between my legs or the way that I cling to the counter and the arm holding my jaw to keep myself upright. I want more friction, and he gives it to me like he can read my mind. His thumb finds my clit and the room around me seems to explode into brightness and stars as I hitch closer to my orgasm.

“Now, will you be a good girl and cum for me?” Cristiano taunts. There’s a challenge in his words.

I want to do exactly what he’s asking. Then I want him to bend me over this vanity and fuck me until I scream. I’ve never wanted anything more in my whole life. I need more of him. His fingers are incredible, but I want to feel the hard length of him filling me over and over again. I want to feel his cum run down my leg, claiming me, much like the red lipstick print on his neck.

The image of it pushes me right over the edge. I cum so hard he has to hold me upright so that I don’t sink into a puddle right on the polished bathroom floor.

I’m still floating in a daze as he pulls his fingers out and licks my juices right off of them with a pleased hum. It should be criminal to look that fucking attractive.

Then he steps away.

I whip around in protest.

“Finish your makeup, baby,” he nods toward the products that are now knocked over and scattered around the vanity. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait right here.”

I grab a few tissues from the vanity and start to clean myself up before fixing my skirt, but Cristiano protests. “No. You will wear your pleasure, just like I will.” Cristiano takes the tissue out of my hands and wipes the lipstick from his face where I kissed him, but leaves the one on his neck.

I notice that he doesn’t wash his hands either as I sit back down to finish the touches on my makeup for the party.

I can’t help but think that he might just be the perfect match for my brand of recklessness. Even if it’s fake.

I’ll enjoy it while it lasts.