Gambling For The Virgin:A Dark Billionaire Romance(13)

So, to get there, I can tell I need to take a tender touch. I'm a  disgusting asshole, I know, because that means I'm going to be sweet and  charming and say every little thing and do every little thing that'll  make Lucy trust me. When I have that, I can have anything. Her trust  doesn't have to come in miles, only inches. A taste of trust here,  there, until her shivers disappear and it feels like her idea and her  acceptance that leads to me buried inside her again. I'm not taking or  overtly coercing. I'm planting the idea in her mind because I'm not just  telling her the truth that her body already knows.

She wants me. She needs me. Lucy has already had one taste of me, and she's not going to just let that go.

"Lucy," I say when I reach her. She turns, her flowing brown hair  cascading down her shoulders and her back in such an enchanting way that  I don't have to fake for a second how mesmerized by her I am. "I wanted  to take you back up to the penthouse and let you know how good you look  today," I say, which is a bit of a risk. I need to be smooth and I'm  being sleazy instead? Am I trying to fail over here?

Lucy blushes, and I know the way her body inclines toward mine a little  that I haven't totally struck out. No, Lucy likes that I said that to  her because she likes what my body does to hers.

"Gian, I thought you'd never ask," Lucy says, and there's something in  her voice that keeps me from thinking that she is putting on some kind  of front. There's a real arousal in her voice there, even around all  these people. It frightens her, but it feels good to her. I'm kind of  fucking touched by the idea, but I can't be getting sappy now. Not when  I'm just trying to fuck Lucy and make her feel like I'm a total fucking  monster. You know, like a manipulative monster would?

How can this girl be so new to my life and be tearing it apart. I'm  trying to breathe over here, walking toward the elevator with her. My  hand is at the small of her back as we walk, and Lucy slips her other  hand into mine. My fingers close over hers and my heart skips a damn  beat like I'm some kind of school girl. The effect that Lucy has on me  is like nothing I've ever felt before and I want to be able to get my  head clear and get my cock buried deep inside of her. I thought those  two things were connected, but now I'm not so sure. Because the way that  I need to be inside Lucy, that's the same intensity with which my  feelings toward her confuse me. I'm baffled by how I can feel so much  for this girl. I'm confused more than anything by how I don't take  advantage of the perfect situation to twist and turn any way I want.  This girl is utterly reliant on me, and instead of taking advantage like  I would in any business deal, I find myself thinking about her  feelings. About the feelings that she creates in me. I need her more  than I'd like to admit.         

     



 

The elevator becomes a challenge. The idea of making out in an elevator  shouldn't be as hot to me as it is now, but I want to press her against  the wall of this elevator the instant the doors close.

When the doors actually do close, it's Lucy's hand that squeezes mine. I  look at her, an ounce of shock ready to convert into a full gallon of  surprise when her lips close over mine. Well, Lucy was so inexperienced.  A virgin. Making out in an elevator is exciting for her because she's  not some tired out girl that's done everything.

And it's exciting for me, the man everyone thinks is tiring out plenty  of women in this city. I gave up that life a long time ago when I  thought I was marrying someone who cared about me, and when that turned  out to be a business move on her part, well, I just gave up women  entirely.

How can I be going through my own soft little moment with Lucy now? Her  lips on mine aren't tentative. They're soft. Lucy is kissing me softly,  almost as if she's asking for permission. I aimed to charm her pants  off, but right now she's the one charming me. In a way that does mean  that I succeeded, and I don't think I want to keep dwelling on this. Not  when her body presses firmer into mine …  and then I hear the elevator  ask for my card and code. Nothing like an interruption to make you  appreciate what's before you.

Reluctantly, I tear just part of my body away from her, but my hand is  still in hers. My side is still pressed to her side. I don't feel  foolish wanting to touch her like this.

That's truly the worst part, I realize as we both fade away into our kisses.

I don't want Lucy to want me the way that she wants me. I already knew  that I wasn't good enough for her, but I'm ruining this poor girl. She's  sweet. She should be with a man who can love her. A man who can marry  her. I'm just the rich asshole helping her with her brother. Her  affection for me is wholly undeserved.

Still, I can't deny the sparks that fly between us. I never understood  that expression, sparks flying, until I met Lucy and a fireworks show  could be going off every time her hazel eyes met mine. I want to kiss  her until we both wake up in a new life and there's nothing to be  worried about. But that's not how life works, and I know this because  I'm able to buy just about anything else. But I can't buy my way out of  how wrong for Lucy I am.

Worst of all, I can't buy myself out of the parts of me that want her no matter what. That don't want me to let me save her.

When we're about to walk into the penthouse door, she turns and faces  me, holding my hand, smiling. Lucy's too goddamn good for me and I just  can't take this. Well, I can. That's what's so rough. I'm going to take  every drop of everything Lucy has to give.

What will be left when she realizes who I really am?

I smile back at her. It isn't hard to fake being the guy who wants her  so much right now. To be charming. Because I do want her more than  anything. It's a hazard to us both.

The soft way her eyes crinkle when she smiles makes me need to breathe  her in. As soon as we're inside, I close the door and press her against  it. Softly, gently. I'm being charming, remember?

I cradle her face, and kiss her face where her smile gives her soft  little lines, trailing down her cheek to kiss next to her lips, and then  to kiss her there. My other arm wraps around behind her and holds her  against me. I want to hold her like this forever.

I'm fooling myself into thinking I'm just doing all of this because I'm  trying to charm her. Lucy is the one who is charming me and making me  into the shell of someone that I don't even know. Where do I fit in if I  want her, and not the existence that seems so empty to me now? What  good is all the power to control a city of sin when all I want is heaven  in Lucy's arms?

Her soft little body is pressing against me. Everywhere she's soft, I'm  hard, and the contrasting sensations mixes up everything in my mind and I  can't think about all this melancholia drenching my throats. Lucy  presses her soft lips to mine, parting them so slightly and sliding her  tongue into my mouth. So gentle. So sweet. She tastes like a freedom I  never knew that I wanted. This is what happens to a man who has  everything. You want something more. Lucy makes me want a lot of things.

Now, my hand gripping her collarbone, I want to rip every inch of her  clothes off her body and put my mouth on every soft and trembling part  of her. Not exactly gentle, but I can show a modicum of restraint and  get what I want. Breaking our kiss, I pull back and look into her hazel  eyes. They look back at me through sooty lashes, a wide smile spread  over her cherry lips. I reach out and suck in her lower lip, releasing  it and dropping down to my knees. For a moment, all I want is to wrap my  arms around her legs and squeeze her. So I do, holding her so tightly  that she shakes in my hold. I say those words to her that I find myself  saying like a prayer. "I've got you," and that's the truth for her as  much as for me. I want to have her. I need to have her. And she has me  so wrapped up in her that I don't know what to do to keep control of  myself. I don't want to be in control when I'm with Lucy. I don't want  to pretend to be anything. I don't want to manipulate her.

That's what's really unlocking me to the core. Lucy makes me want to be free to be whatever it is that I've become.

But if I was, would she even want to be near me?

I pucker my lips to just above her knee, kissing soft as a wind in  spring. My other hand trails up her skirt and finds the soft vee of her  cotton panties, encasing what I need but what I'll take time to get to.  Not just because of some gentle act  …  I have a compulsion to worship  every inch of her, here and now, when she's real and in front of me. It  almost feels like if I don't touch Lucy as much as I can, she's going to  fade away.

Her hands are in my hair, not with any particular goal and just to touch  me. No one has ever touched me so tenderly and it cracks something hard  in my chest that breaks free a wellspring of emotions. My fingertips  sweep back and forth over her panties, inside her thighs, and back,  before I sweep in and pull down her panties, in one hand, but still  gentle and soft. When they slide down her thighs, down to her ankles, I  don't let her step out of them, my other hand holding her leg in place. I  like having her so gently captive, at my mercy while I try to worship  her with the grace she deserves.