Blackmailed by the Italian Billionaire

Chapter Four



Lia felt the sharp edge of his teeth as he bit down on the sensitive point of her breast. The feeling was unbelievable, pulling at places deep within her body. She was aware that she was going under fast, drowning in desire, and she was way past caring. She wanted this. She knew she couldn’t push him away. Instead, she threaded her fingers deeper into the soft, silky darkness of his hair and held him to her while his mouth suckled her. She let her eyes drift closed and sank into the sensations, the aching tug of his mouth at her breasts, the heat welling up between her clenched thighs.

His hands moved over her, stroking down her body until he could slide one hand slowly beneath her skirt. Lia went still, unsure whether she was scared in case he went further, or terrified in case he didn’t. The one hand slipped beneath her panties, and she was lost. His fingers moved over her very slowly, dipping into the moist heat, and gliding lazy circles against her sensitive flesh. Her head fell back, and she couldn’t suppress her hungry groan. He whispered words in Italian against her skin.

“What?”

“You are so hot, cara. So hot, and wet, and tight.”

For one moment, she thought he was going to stop, and the panic cleared her mind. What was she doing? What was she allowing this man to do? Then he kissed her mouth. At the same time, his finger flexed inside her, and her body jerked involuntarily against his hand.

He waited until she went still against him, then his fingers moved again, played ever so teasingly across her tender, swollen flesh, barely eluding that most sensitive spot. Then he stroked one finger lightly over her, and her brain ceased to function.

“Relax, cara,” he murmured, pulling away from her. “I’ll get you there, I promise, but first we need to talk.”

Lia shook her head, confused by the abrupt change in direction. “Talk?”

Her brain was woozy from the Scotch, and her body ached for something she clearly wasn’t about to get. She had a suspicion that she might never again, in her whole life, feel the way his hands on her body made her feel. That thought filled her with despair.

“Lia, tell me about your father.”

The mention of her father brought her slightly out of her stupor.

“My father? I don’t understand.”

“Of course you do, cara. It’s simple enough. I want to know where he is.”

She bit her lip. “I told you, I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him for ages.”

“How long?”

“Over ten years. Why are you asking me this now?”

“Just curious. So why are you here?”

There was something she didn’t understand, but she couldn’t seem to get her head around it—the transfer from seduction to interrogation was too abrupt. And she wasn’t about to get into her reasons for being here.

“I told you. I wanted a job. That’s all.”

Luc relaxed visibly, the tension draining from his taut figure, and Lia let out her breath. He’d believed her lies.

When he stood up and took her hand, she let herself be tugged her to her feet. She didn’t protest when he undid the remaining buttons, allowing her dress to slither to the floor in a pool around her. But a wave of self-consciousness washed over her, and she put a hand up to cover her breasts.

“I don’t…”

“You don’t what, cara mia?”

Lia shook her head in dazed confusion. There were so many don’ts she could have said: I don’t kiss, I don’t have sex, I don’t want to have sex. But that last one would have been a lie.

Luc was still almost fully dressed while she was all but naked. It didn’t seem fair.

“Come to bed, cara.” He held out his hand.

She shook her head; it was fuzzy from the alcohol she’d had to drink, something she rarely did, but she knew it wasn’t the alcohol that made her feel like this. Luc was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. She remembered the feel of his fingers inside her and her body ached to feel his touch again. Surely, it wasn’t so bad to take what he offered. Just one night and she would return to real life and forget him. She’d think of another way out of her problems, and put this behind her forever.

Stepping out of her dress, she slid her palm into his. He led her through a door at the back of the office into a sitting room and through another door, into a huge bedroom dominated by the most enormous bed Lia had ever seen. She stopped short at the sight, and her last coherent thought was Luc had been right—she was, in fact, terribly naïve.

Then he kissed her again, his hot tongue filling her mouth, and it really didn’t matter.

After a minute, he raised his head, his brilliant green eyes searching her face. “You want this?”

Why was he asking now, when it was too late, when she was just about naked, and her breasts ached, and she could feel a warm wetness between her thighs? She nodded, but he must have caught her confusion, because he reached out and stroked the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. He took a step back from her, tugged off his tie, and dropped it to the floor.

“I get the impression it’s been a while for you,” he said. “You must tell me if you don’t like anything I do.”

“And if I do like it?”

His eyes darkened. “Tell me that as well.”

The air thickened between them, the anticipation building. She swallowed the lump in her throat as he slowly undid the buttons on his shirt, dragged it out of his pants. It followed the tie to the floor and Lia stared. He was perfect.

Broad shoulders, golden skin over the smooth swell of muscle, a lean flat belly, with an arrow of dark hair disappearing into the waistband of his pants. His hand went to his belt and he unbuckled it, then flicked open the button, lowered the zipper. Lia struggled to breathe as heat washed through her. She edged back and sank down onto the bed as her legs threatened to give way. For a second, she clamped her eyes shut tight. When she opened them, he was naked. Her gaze flashed down his body. He was fully erect, his shaft vertical against his lean belly. At the thought of all that masculine power buried inside her, a spasm of pleasure ripped through her. Forcing her eyes upward, she found him watching her, his expression hot and hungry.

He stalked toward her, nudging open her knees to stand between them. Curling one hand around the back of her neck, he lowered his head and kissed her, gently urging her back until she lay against the mattress.

His mouth was on her breasts, nipping and sucking at her sensitive nipples, sending darts of exquisite pleasure through her body. Shifting lower, he spread moist, openmouthed kisses across her belly, the jut of her hipbone, dipped the tip of his tongue into her navel. He parted her thighs, so she lay sprawled, open to him, and for a moment, he looked up the length of her body, his gaze catching hers.

“Remember, tell me…” he said and lowered his face between her thighs.

The feel of his hot, wet mouth was like nothing she’d ever imagined. He licked long, slow strokes over her flesh, learning the shape of her, pausing to taste, to push inside, then higher to trace lazy circles around her * until her mind blanked to everything but the pleasure building inside her. Then he sucked the small, engorged bud into his mouth and she came in a rush of pleasure so intense, she almost blacked out.

His tongue soothed her, then he bit down lightly, and she came again, her back arching from the bed, pushing her against him, drawing out the pleasure.

She was vaguely aware of him pulling on a condom, coming down over her, and then he was between her thighs, the tip of his cock already nudging at the opening to her body. He filled her with one smooth lunge of his hips. Bracing himself on his elbows, he looked down into her face.

“Okay?”

She nodded, unable to utter a word; he was moving inside her, huge and hard, stretching her, slowly at first, then faster as she rose up to meet each thrust. Finally, she closed her eyes, wrapped her legs around his hips, and gave herself up to the savage beauty of his lovemaking.

…



When Luc got back from the bathroom, she was sleeping, her lashes dark shadows against her pale cheeks, her lips swollen from his kisses and slightly parted. He lay on his side, resting his head on one elbow and watching the rise and fall of her small, perfect breasts, as he tried to work out just why she moved him so.

Some small part of his mind nagged that he should be keeping his distance, that he couldn’t afford to let down his guard with this woman; she was after something and for his own safety he needed to find out what that was. But he couldn’t forget the feel of her as she came beneath him. From the shocked expression on her face, he knew no man had given her pleasure before. He also knew that fact shouldn’t matter, but it did—it filled him with an almost primordial satisfaction.

He couldn’t remember anything as erotic as the way her eyes had eaten him up as he stripped for her. Her expression alone had turned him on so much he’d almost exploded right there. Their lovemaking had hardly been gentle, but she had been with him every step of the way. And at the memory of her coming apart for him, the blood shot to his groin. He was already hot and hard again, and he reached across for another condom. His movement must have disturbed her, because she rolled onto her side, still sleeping. He shifted so he lay behind her, curving his body against her back, wrapping one arm around her, and pulling her closer so her small, tight ass pushed against his groin. His cock nudged the cleft in her buttocks and he had to breathe deeply to get control. This time, he meant to take it slowly, draw out her pleasure, drive any devious thoughts from her mind, so when she thought of him all she would remember was this.

Cupping one breast, he rubbed his palm over her nipple. It stiffened under his touch and he knew she was awake. He breathed against her skin, kissed the soft spot where her neck met her shoulder. A quiver ran through her as his hand drifted down over her satin smoothness of her belly, to the sweet curve of her hips. He curled a hand around one slender thigh, raising her leg so he could slip his fingers between the drenched folds of her sex. As he eased into her from behind, a small sigh escaped her throat—he was lodged deep inside her, her slick muscles surrounding his shaft.

One arm held her still, his palm on her breast, fingers toying with her taut nipple, the other teased the swollen flesh between her thighs, rubbing and massaging, feeling her hovering on the edge and backing off until she was shivering in his arms. And all the while, he filled her with slow, controlled strokes, until his own orgasm tightened his balls, tugged at his mind, and he knew he couldn’t last much longer. Taking her * gently between his finger and thumb, he squeezed lightly until she came with a small scream, her internal muscles clenching him tight, so his own release washed through him, and pleasure flooded his cock, his balls, and raced up his spine.

…



Luc awoke relaxed and satiated, his whole body filled with a delicious sensation of well-being. It didn’t last for long. He reached for Lia and found her gone. A wave of loss washed over him—already he missed her. Then he remembered who she was, and he swore softly. Dragging himself up, he glanced at the clock by the bed—it was after midnight.

When was the last time he had fallen asleep with a woman? And why the hell did he have to choose this one?

He got out of bed and stretched; his body felt good, even if his mind was raging, hunting for a reason she would have crept out in the middle of the night, a reason other than that she was up to no good. He didn’t want to accept that could be the case. How had she gotten beneath his skin so fast and so deep?

After pulling on a pair of black, loose linen trousers, he padded barefoot through the sitting room and into the office. There was no sign of Lia, not that he expected one. He knew she was long gone.

Picking up the phone from the desk, he rang the security guard at the gate. “Carl, the woman I came in with, what time did she leave?”

He ended the call, sank into the leather chair behind his desk, and thought for a moment. She’d left around eleven thirty. Switching on the monitor, he pressed a few buttons. The CCTV cameras had been installed in his office a couple of years ago; it was useful to go over meetings afterward and study his “opponents’” expressions. Now, he sat back and watched. The screen flickered to life, and he fast-forwarded until he saw Lia come out of the apartment. Wearing his white shirt, the sleeves rolled up, the hem skimming her thighs, she looked beautiful, rumpled, and sexy.

And decidedly shifty.

For a minute, she stared around the room, obviously searching for something before moving to where her pink dress lay discarded on the floor. Glancing at the door, she wriggled into the dress before slipping the shirt from her shoulders. She peered around the office, her eyes fixing on the bank of cabinets lining one wall. After another nervous glance at the door, she edged over then tried to open one. Luc swore; he’d known her innocent act was too good to be true.

His eyes narrowed on the screen as he considered the possibilities. Maybe this had nothing to do with her father; maybe she was a setup, an industrial spy. Someone who knew his past could have set it up easily, known exactly who to use to bait the hook. Hell, she might not even be Jimmy Brent’s daughter. But Harley had recognized her, and frankly she was too inept to be any sort of spy.

Maybe she was just curious. He shook his head in disgust. He couldn’t believe, even now, with the evidence in front of him, that he was hunting for excuses for her, anything to convince himself she wasn’t in league with her treacherous father.

Now, she was tugging futilely at the handles, only giving up when she’d tried each and every one. Standing back, she glared in frustration then kicked the cabinet with her bare foot, scowling and hopping for a moment.

Luc smiled grimly; all the locks in this room were controlled by thumbprint, his thumbprint. There was no way she was getting access to any information. Obviously, coming to the same conclusion herself, she gave up and returned to the desk. After staring at the computer, she shook her head, turned to the chair and seemed to consider it for a minute. Sitting down, she winced slightly; she closed her eyes and twirled.

She got up and headed toward the rest of her things, picking up her jacket but then peering back to the door that led to the living quarters, where he was aware he’d lain blissfully sleeping in post-coital satisfaction, oblivious to the world around him. Dropping her jacket, she tiptoed across the room, through the door, and disappeared. Luc swore again. What was she doing? Probably deciding whether it was safe to murder him in his bed. He shook his head in self-disgust; he must have been out of his mind to let his guard down around Jimmy Brent’s daughter.

But she reappeared a few minutes later and moved determinedly across the room, picked up her jacket, bag, and shoes, and left the office—this time without looking back.

Luc switched off the monitor, slipped the disk from the machine, and locked it in the desk drawer. What had she been searching for? Could she be working for her father? Had Jimmy Brent decided to finally finish what he had started so long ago and take Luc out of the picture?

He didn’t know. But one thing was for sure—he was going to find out.