The Medici Mistress

By: Clare Connelly

The flirtation that had been simmering between them for over a week had been driving him wild. Literally making him feel like a caged animal at night, desperate and hungry. She was all he could think of, and phone conversations with Carrie had been a duty he increasingly wished to avoid.

“Oh, pish,” she retorted, her polished British accent at odds with the behavior Giacomo had come to count on in Annie. He could only describe it as completely free spirited. Her predilection for summery dresses and bright accessories against the background of the incredibly stilted office of Amicus Incorporated had pulled him in. Her bright smile, shining eyes, clear skin, and the way she seemed to laugh with him even when they were discussing something as bland as UK tax law had left him with a sinking feeling of adoration.

“Pish?” He teased, though his mood was dark. For he knew what was about to happen, and it would be a death knell to the life he had planned. A nail in the coffin of the man he had hoped he could be.

“Yes. You know. Nonsense. Absurd. Boring.”

He winged his brows together as he shouldered through the doors at the end of the corridor. He made straight for the bed, and dumped her unceremoniously in the middle of it. She ran a hand through her curtain of dark hair, pushing it away from her eyes. He saw the moment she realized where she was. The laughter in her eyes sparked into something far more dangerous.

That was the point in time when he could have turned back. But he did not. Giac lowered himself to his knees, sinking into the thick white carpet, and took her ankles in his strong hands. He removed her shoes and slid them under the bed.

“What are you doing?” She whispered, her eyes searching his face.

“Making sure you’re okay,” he said, running his hands over one ankle. The inspection was far from clinical. His fingers probed and touched, gliding over her skin, rubbing the soft soles of her feet.

“I’m fine, honestly.” She said, trying to be sophisticated, when her heart was threatening to burst from her chest, it was beating so hard.

“The first time I saw you, I knew this would happen,” he said thickly, skimming his hands up her calves, to her thighs.

Annie sucked in a deep breath. “Knew what would happen?”

“This.” He claimed her mouth with an intensity that branded her soul.

It was what she had wanted from that first moment, too. He’d been talking to the entire legal team, explaining what the changes in ownership would mean for the staff, when their eyes had locked across a very crowded meeting room. He had carried on, as if unaffected, but Annie had found it hard to get her breathing under control. She had intended to leave the meeting room as soon as she could, but her manager had kept her talking, which made her easy prey for Giac Medici. He sought her out, and made her fall in love within five minutes.

She groaned, lifting her hands and running them through his crop of dark hair. Of their own accord, they dropped lower, to his shoulders, and she was pushing at his shirt, desperate to make contact with the chest she’d been drooling over for a week.

He pressed his body against hers, so that she fell against the thick mattress. He ground his hips to hers, watching as she felt his arousal hard, firm and demanding against her clothed abdomen.

“Giac,” she whispered, thinking of all the reasons she should put an end to this.

“Annie,” he mocked quietly, staring so hard into her eyes that surely he could see every facet of her being.

“Is this crazy?”

“Si,” he smiled wolfishly at her, but his hands on her shoulders were insistent. He slid the elastic straps of her dress down, pulling at it roughly, his need to see her as great as hers to see him.

She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her breasts were small enough that she didn’t need one. His breathing was ragged as he ran his fingers over her nipples, then his mouth.

Her hips lifted in spontaneous response. Her insides were slick with an unfamiliar clench of moisture. He shifted the dress lower, then removed it completely, tossing it into the corner of the room.

It hit the wall and slithered to the ground. As it hit the carpet, Annie felt the final door close on any thought of stopping what they were in the midst of.

Her underwear, whilst practical and sensible, was nonetheless, the sexiest thing Giac had ever seen. He slid it away impatiently, his arousal straining almost painfully against his boxers as he looked at her, naked and perfect, on his enormous bed.

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