The Roman's Woman (A Singular Obsession Book 4) Page 7

  Sophia had blushed pink as he stripped that black silk dress from her glorious body. That color had deepened into a fiery red as he did what he’d been dying to do since he had first seen her. He kissed every inch of her, suckling her breasts and clutching handfuls of her luscious ass as he rode her. Moments passed before she tensed all over and climaxed with a sob.

  It was crazy. None of his old insecurities had surfaced, no malicious words had echoed in his head. His sole focus had been on Sophia, and her pleasure. Everything had fallen into place. It had been both natural and so fucking intense, like being on some sort of mind-altering drug.

  Instinctively, he knew his life had changed forever. Now, he needed to convince Sophia that hers had too.

  Merda.

  His breath caught, and he sank deeper into the bed. She still thought he was someone else. He had lied to her, and then bedded her under false pretenses.

  He’d sworn to tell her the truth before it got that far, but kept putting it off. Getting to know her, talking to her, making her laugh, had become his priority. Most of the time he’d been able to pretend and push the guilt out of his mind, telling himself he was waiting for the right time.

  Unfortunately, he wasn't sure when that was going to be. The situation in the press had grown steadily worse in the past week. Enzo had kept him updated about the latest slurs. One tabloid rag had quoted an anonymous source, a former trusted friend of his, that claimed Gio had not only emotionally abused his ex-wife, but he’d pimped her out to his friends and acquaintances.

  He didn’t have to guess who the “friend” was. After all, he had caught Maria Gianna with Vincenzo Gavazzi himself. Enzo was verifying the source’s identity before Gio committed to a course of action. And that needed to be soon. It was only a matter of time before Sophia found out on her own. His picture was plastered on newsstands right now, for crying out loud.

  He’d been lucky so far. Sophia wasn’t the kind of person who looked at tabloids, even if they were right under her nose. But his luck would only hold out for so long. It was only that it had been so easy to pretend. Far easier than he would have ever imagined. As long as he didn’t wear a suit and avoided the financial district, he was relatively anonymous. A pair of mirrored sunglasses and his own countrymen—including the paparazzi—didn’t recognize him.

  It was disconcerting in a way, being able to step away from his life like he had. Gio didn’t enjoy being famous, but as the son of one of Italy’s oldest and wealthiest families, notoriety had always been a part of his existence. These past days with Sophia had been a learning experience, in more ways than one.

  At least he’d started laying the groundwork. He had admitted that he worked at a bank. She just didn’t know that he was the head of it. Or that it wasn’t a sideline. What was she going to say when he finally told her the whole truth?

  She was going to be angry. There was no doubt about it. Any reasonable person would be furious. A flash of Sophia’s face, losing her sunny smile, growing colder and staring at him in distaste ran through his head. And that was the best-case scenario.

  Could the fiery Latin temper be a stereotype? He could only hope so.

  Never date a rich guy. Yeah, there was that too. Damn her ex. That son of a bitch had clearly done a number on her. Gio needed to show her that merely because a man had money, it didn’t mean he had to bend everyone to his will. A rich successful man could be reasonable and thoughtful, capable of being an equal partner.

  Although he hadn’t exactly been calm or reasonable last night. He’d been watching Sophia all evening, doing his best not to embarrass himself during her seductive little show on the dance floor. She’d left her phone with him, however, and the cursed thing kept going off.

  At first he’d ignored it—until the third call. What kind of pathetic excuse for a man called a woman over and over again when she obviously didn’t want to talk to him?

  Annoyed, he’d resolved to discuss it with Sophia, but the fucking calls kept coming until he’d been driven stupid with jealousy. And he’d let that jealousy drive him straight into that alley.

  Truthfully, he wasn’t sure he regretted what he’d done. Letting go of his inhibitions that way had led to the best sex of his life. But Sophia had deserved candles and satin sheets on a king-sized bed for their first time. He glanced around him. This room was nice, but it didn’t compare to the bedroom in his penthouse a few blocks away.

  He had to tell her the truth today. And he meant it this time. But first, he needed to find out more about this ex and what this unfinished business was. Clearly Sophia’s former boyfriend was using it as an excuse to stay in her life…and win her back. The sheer volume of calls was proof of that. He had to put a stop to it.

  Gio had finally found his future, and he wasn’t about to let anyone take it away from him.

  He was thinking it over, making plans, when Sophia shifted, causing the sheet to drift down. The move revealed her creamy café-au-lait thigh and part of one rich globe before she turned over on her back.

  Inhaling deeply, he moved lower on the bed and pulled the cover off her body. A man had to have his priorities.

  Chapter 8

  Sophia had always hated getting up in the morning. However, this time she was struggling for consciousness, reaching for pleasure that grew progressively more intense the more she woke.

  Stretching languorously, she arched her hips and legs restlessly. Soft hair brushed against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Lifting heavy lids, she peeked down. Oh, God…It was Gio. And he was…oh, God.

  His mouth was magic. And holy shit it was aggressive. He was holding her hips down, because even now she was writhing uncontrollably, bucking and straining against his hands. Licking up and down her folds, he ate her with abandon, sucking in her clit to his mouth. He rolled his tongue over it before moving one hand to caress and probe her entrance.

  Her pussy tightened and spasmed on his fingers, trying to keep him inside her to rub that magical little spot he’d claimed and made his own. But he was teasing her now. A single finger snaked inside her before retreating and entering again until he was fucking her in a steady rhythm.

  But it wasn’t enough. What she craved was his thick and heavily veined cock.

  It was too big and thick actually. She was a large woman, but not down there. That didn’t matter, though. The pain she felt at taking him was minor, not even worth mentioning. Not compared to the ecstasy he gave her.

  “Gio, please,” she gasped, trying to pull him upward.

  But he had other ideas. “No,” he said. “One in my mouth, Sophia. Give me one my mouth, please.”

  It sounded more like a command than a plea. His tongue was in her now, working in and out, withdrawing occasionally to nibble on her clit. Over and over again he penetrated her until she was half crazy, moaning and panting in abandon. She gloried in the sensation, reveling greedily in each wave as the pleasure built.

  When it crashed down, it was like being flung on the shore, broken and dashed to pieces. Tensing, she arced like her body had been shot through with electricity. Her vision blurred, and she cried out in a heart-stopping climax.

  Gio let her fall, but only briefly. Melting into the bed, she was still experiencing twinges of dissipating bliss when his shaft pushed at her entrance. He thrust inside, filling her completely. The rhythm was rough and deliciously hard before he surprised her by twisting, flipping them around until she landed on top of him. He urged her to straddle him, grabbing her waist and guiding until she was riding him, slowly at first and then faster and faster.

  He tugged her forward, cupping her full breasts. Lifting his head, he took one tight nipple in his mouth. Her rhythm broke as he licked and bit the swollen bud. Grabbing his head, she held on tight while the spasms started again.

  His hands kept moving, running over every inch of her skin. He palmed her ass cheek, kneading and stroking as he flipped over so he was on top. Then he withdrew, nea
rly breaking her heart. But her disappointment was temporary. He sat back on his haunches and pulled her on top of him. Happy to oblige, she straddled his lap again, although now they were sitting in the middle of the bed.

  Sighing contentedly, her breasts rubbed against the sprinkling of hair on his upper chest with delicious friction. Pressed tightly together, she rocked with him, their movements perfectly in sync.

  This was more than sex. She knew it in her heart. Tears stung at her eyes and she clung to his shoulders harder, trying to hold on with a desperation that came out of nowhere.

  Gio must have felt the change in her. He caught her urgency, plunging his hands in her hair and clenching them into fists. Beneath her, his hips worked overtime, lunging up forcefully in harsh strokes. Her channel gripped him firmly as she rode him, undulating on his lap in a striking counterpoint. The move deepened and intensified the hot pulses at her core until the ecstasy surged and crested.

  She threw back her head, too out of breath to cry out as Gio buried his face in her neck and groaned. Mouth gaping, she bore down, grinding against him in an effort to prolong the high.

  The feeling held for a few more precious seconds until it finally spun away, leaving her hazy and weak.

  Distantly, she registered his climax. He groaned gutturally as his cock swelled and pulsed inside her, teasing her G-spot repeatedly as she came down from her orgasm with a final convulsive wrench.

  He collapsed on the bed with her in his arms. They lay there quietly, breathing hard as he softened inside of her. Eventually, he turned to her and frowned. He reached out and wiped away the tears on her cheeks, which she hadn’t known were there.

  “Bella mia, are you okay?” His voice was hoarse and concerned.

  Nodding, she swallowed and took a deep breath. “I often cry during sex,” she lied.

  “Oh.” He relaxed, toying with her hair before moving down to cup her ass—his hand’s favorite resting place. “Why don’t we jump in the shower and order room service,” he suggested, nibbling at her ear and neck.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Bad idea. If we shower together we’ll take forever. I’m starving and this place doesn’t have room service.”

  Gio's mouth turned down. “No room service?”

  She shrugged. “That's what you get when you go with a charming and historic bed and breakfast instead of a luxury hotel.” Rolling over onto her stomach, she tugged the sheet over her butt.

  His hand snuck up to twitch the sheet back down again.

  She smacked his hand. “Why don’t you jump in the shower, then, and I’ll look for a place nearby on my phone. I’m pretty sure we already missed the breakfast here,” she said, squinting at the digital clock on the bedside table.

  He stood with a grin, unashamed of his nudity. “I’ll be quick,” he promised before entering the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

  Once he was safely out of sight, Sophia collapsed face-first on the bed, burying her nose in the mattress.

  Her vacation fling had become so much more.

  What am I going to do?

  What was wrong with her? Why did all of her entanglements with men always get so off track? She couldn’t even handle a vacation fling. Other women did rebound sex just fine without getting emotionally involved. Why did she have to be different?

  In a few days, she was going to have to go home and it was going to crush her to leave him behind.

  The weight in her chest seemed to grow heavier with each breath. She was already mourning Gio’s loss, and he wasn’t even gone yet.

  Rolling over, she stared at the ceiling, blinking back more tears. What if he doesn’t want things to end, either? He had certainly been acting very possessive since last night. Before then, actually.

  He can’t have you back, you’re mine. It had certainly sounded like he meant that. What if he was serious and somehow she could keep him?

  Stop acting crazy.

  It would never work. Gio was a street performer, for heaven’s sake. Even if by some miracle he was willing to relocate, could she be with someone so different?

  How did you date a man without ambition?

  She was honest enough to admit that dating someone beneath her professionally would be a problem. It would be embarrassing to take him to work functions and have him mingle with her academic friends—and she had no others. Gio would never fit into her life…unless he gave up street performing.

  Maybe he was already considering it? Why else would he have gotten a second job moonlighting as a bank teller? What if he applied for a job at a bank near her in Oxford? Could he give up his devil-may-care artist lifestyle for a boring nine-to-five job?

  Not if he did it for you.

  She couldn’t ask him to give up his life. He’d never be happy as a square peg in a round hole. Artists needed freedom and the right to express themselves. She’d be taking his wings and clipping them. She had to let him go. She couldn’t be that person who became involved with someone and tried to fundamentally change them.

  Like Richard tried to do to you.

  Heart heavy, she reached for her phone to check her emails. With a frown she noticed that her phone was on vibrate.

  Shit. She usually tried to be easy to reach in case something went wrong at the lab, but Gio distracted her. Hopefully work hadn’t needed to speak to her because she never noticed when the buzzer went off unless the ringer was on too. Unlocking it, she checked how many times her ex had called last night.

  Sophia sat up abruptly. Ten missed calls?

  Thinking Richard had truly gone off the deep end, she checked the log. But only four were from Richard—the rest were from Kelly. Worried something terrible had happened, she hurriedly called her back.

  “Oh, God, finally,” Kelley gasped when the call went through. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying like crazy to reach you since I got back yesterday from the in-laws.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize my ringer was off. Is everything okay? Is it Omar? Did something happen?”

  On the other end of the line, her friend exhaled a harsh breath and her heart sank. Something must have happened to Kelly’s husband, Omar, or her parents.

  “It’s not me. It’s you. Listen about Gio—”

  Sophia laughed, relieved. “I know, I know. I'm crazy. I’ve never done anything like this, but you were the one telling me I should have a rebound relationship. The thing is—”

  “No, no! You don’t understand,” Kelly interrupted. “You’re not with Giovanni.”

  Sophia smiled sheepishly and stood up, wrapping the sheet around her.

  “Actually, I am. Right now. Well, almost. He’s in the shower. Listen, I know I shouldn’t have gotten involved with one of your study subjects, but I couldn’t help myself. It’s insane, but he’s not what I expected, and we…well, I can’t go into it or he’ll hear me gushing like an idiot. But for once I’m not going to overanalyze. I’m trying hard to live in the moment and just…enjoy him. God, I sound like a schoolgirl with a crush. Don’t make fun of me later for the way I’m talking, okay?”

  Kelly stayed quiet.

  Sophia frowned. “Kel?”

  Harsh breathing filled her ear. “Listen and stay calm. You need to get out of there right now.”

  Apprehension filled her, making her dizzy. She sat heavily on the bed. “Why?”

  “He’s not who you think he is. The man you are with isn’t Giovanni Berardi.”

  Her stomach tightened. “What?”

  “I spoke to the real one,” Kelly said. “He emailed me to apologize for not being able to meet you.”

  Sophia relaxed, almost giddy with relief. “Oh, no, it’s all right. I did miss him the first time in Rome. I’d gone on to Milan, and he texted me so I doubled back to meet him.”

  “No, Sophia. It’s not him,” Kelly insisted. “The real Giovanni had to miss you in Rome the second time, too. His son was in an accident. He went to the hospital a
nd was too out of it to cancel your appointment. But I got the questionnaire back in the post, so I called him to thank him and he told me everything. A man came to him with the survey and stayed with him till he filled it out. Gave him a thousand euros for his trouble and then took the thing to mail for him. You never met the real Giovanni. Whoever that man is that you are with, it isn’t him.”

  Frozen, Sophia sat there with her mouth open.

  “Sophie!”

  “But…but it has to be. There must be some mistake. We talked about it. His name is Gio…Giovanni.”

  There were sounds of movement in the background as if Kelly was pacing and bumping into things. “What does he look like?”

  Sophia shrugged, even though Kelly couldn’t see her. “He’s six-two with black hair and light golden-brown eyes.”

  “So, he’s not a leathery man in his fifties?”

  “No,” she whispered, her heart sinking. “He’s young. Mid-thirties at the latest.”

  “Where are you?”

  “We’re at my hotel. I told you. He’s in the shower.”

  Kelly sucked in a breath. “Get your things and leave before he gets out.”

  She nodded dumbly.

  “Are you listening?”

  “Yes,” she choked out over the lump in her throat.

  “Okay, do it now. And Sophia, hurry.”

  She hung up without another word, looking around wildly. For a moment, she just sat there, the implications of what she’d heard sinking in. What had she done, and who the hell had she done it with?

  Move. You need to move.

  Jumping up, she started grabbing clothes and electronics. She threw her computer in her carryon and her phone in her purse. Her toiletries were in the bathroom, but they didn’t matter.