A Sip of You(32)

My hands went to my breasts, plucking at my nipples, and my head fell back against his shoulder as I took him viciously. He was slicked with sweat, his muscles tense with restraint. “Oh God, Catherine,” he finally moaned. “Come for me.” His finger pressed harder against my engorged clit, and his cock swelled even more as the first gush of semen pushed against my walls.

My body responded instantly, shaking violently as wave after shuddering wave crashed through me. I could make no sound at all—I could only feel, only take what he gave me, take more and more of him as I clutched him over and over again. And then it was over, and I was so weak I all but collapsed. William’s strong arms caught me, and he turned me around, holding me against him, stroking my hair, and shushing me.

God, I loved him so much. My heart was still thundering in my ears as I clung to him, relishing in the warmth of my bare skin pressed against his. I felt complete in his arms and never wanted to leave them. Part of me wanted to tell him, right now, how I felt. But part of me didn’t want to break the silence of the moment, which was somehow perfect as we held each other tightly, so many things between us unsaid but not unfelt. He needed me. And I needed him.

We stayed like that for a few more minutes and then finally, William spoke. He whispered against my ear, “Do you still doubt I’m yours? You own me, Catherine.”

And then he kissed me, lifted me up, and carried me inside.





Seven




I opened my eyes and knew without even turning my head that William wasn’t in bed with me. There was just the cold expanse of crisp 600-thread count Italian sheets on either side of me and barely an indentation of where William had been the night before. Exhausted after my swim and our poolside sex, I’d pretty much passed right out after carried me upstairs and tucked me in. The last thing I remembered was him undressing, crawling under the covers, and then spooning my naked body with his. His arms had pulled me tight against him, wrapping me in a delicious warm embrace as I drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

I had no idea when he’d gotten up. I fumbled for my phone and peered at the time. A little after 8:30. Great. I was all by myself in William’s giant bed. Again. What a way to start another day at the glorious Casa di Rosabela. I wanted to wake up in his arms like I did at The Peninsula and spend the morning talking and laughing and exploring each other.

I sat, but I knew William wasn’t in the master suite. I could usually sense him—when he was near, all the little hairs on my arm prickled. My arms felt absolutely nothing, but I looked around for him anyway.

Empty.

William’s words from the night before came back to me. He’d assured me we were safe. He’d told me the security team was here. Obviously he viewed this new Wyatt, whoever or whatever it was, as a threat he took seriously. Equally obvious, he didn’t want to talk to me about said threat because he thought I’d be safer that way. Or maybe he thought the less I knew the less I’d worry. Yeah, right. Worry was practically my middle name. What he didn’t seem to understand was I worried about him. And about us. I didn’t care about safe nearly as much as I cared about him—I owned him. Just thinking about what he had whispered in my ear last night made my pulse race. I wasn’t sure that a man like William could ever give himself completely to a woman, but I wanted to believe him. Desperately. God, I loved him.

I flopped back down and closed my eyes. I could almost hear my yoga instructor’s soothing voice as I slowly inhaled and exhaled a few deep, cleansing breaths through my nose, trying to expel any negative thoughts. But it wasn’t working.

I took another deep breath. I had to stay cool. I couldn’t let Cat the Dramatic win the day, so I’d try to think positive. William probably got up for his usual before-dawn workout and was downstairs, doing something to stave off the mysterious crisis that brought us here. Or maybe he was out tending to his grapes and he didn’t wake me up because he was just being considerate. I could give him a break.

With those thoughts, I took a quick shower, put my wet hair into a ponytail, pulled on a pair of jeans, a tank top with a T-shirt layered over it, and a pair of flip flops, and then headed downstairs for coffee and to find William. On my way, I glanced out the front windows and noted the Porsche was parked out front, but all but one of the big black SUVs the security team used were gone. Okay, something was up. “Oh no,” I muttered as I tried not to panic.

When I walked into the kitchen, I expected to see Fernanda. I stopped and stared instead at a man and a woman I’d never seen before, both in black pants and starched white shirts and looking very professional. It jarred me, having people I didn’t even know in the house with me while I’d been sleeping.