He let out a heavy breath with a quick, “Exactly.”
“You are extremely arrogant,” I said with a smirk.
“I do not deny this,” he replied with a devilish grin.
“How often are you taken up on this offer?” I asked out of curiosity, and to simply irritate him. I could tell he got his way often, if not always. So did I. The thought already had me hot.
“Every time.”
“Then I’ll be the exception,” I said, noting the irritation on his face. His eyes trailed down my body in hot survey as my panties coated in welcome to him.
“Then we have no more to discuss?” he asked, slightly confused.
“Sure we do. Take me to dinner. I’m starving.”
He smirked, and I could tell he thought he would sway me, but I had only one point to negotiate. “Either of us can end it at any time. I’m no one’s possession, and I’ll choose to submit, but I have the right to opt out whenever I want. If you can live with that, then I’ll share time with you.”
He ran his fingers through his hair and looked at me dead on. “And if I do not agree?”
“Then we have no more to discuss,” I said evenly. “What would be the alternative anyway? I tell you I’m finished with you so you take me against my will?”
“Yes,” he countered wickedly. “That could be fun. Rocco,” he instructed his driver, “let us take the lady to dine.”
His voice was baritone silk and laced with old world charm. His English, though unbroken and smooth in delivery, lacked modern colloquialisms. He was a complete contradiction to the men I’d usually be attracted to, and yet it was undeniable.
We said little as we stared one another down. I was all for conversation. I was curious about him, but it wasn’t in the cards for our drive to dinner. I saw his erection grow in his jeans as we wordlessly expressed to each other our intentions. The cabin grew thick with tension as we fucked each other without touching. My hunger for him had reached unbearable.
“Did you enjoy watching me?” I asked, referring to the valet buried between my legs.
“No,” he snapped. “I intended to finish what I started.”
“You’re going to have to move faster than that,” I said coyly.
“You did not enjoy it, either,” he remarked coolly.
“It was your game,” I said heatedly. “Still is.”
“Tonight, my game is simple. I am going to fuck you…hard. And I am going to hurt you.” His eyes were deadly.
Instead of his tone setting in fear, it set me on fire.
“Your game, Daniello, though I must warn you since you were kind enough to do the same. I’m not so easily broken.”
“I have no intention of trying to tame your will. It is one of the things I like about you.”
I smiled. “It’s the only thing you know about me.”
“Well, you can tell me more at dinner.” He gestured as the driver opened the door.
“Thank you,” I said, taking Rocco’s hand and stepping down from the truck. Without acknowledging me in any way, Rocco closed the door behind us and resumed his seat behind the wheel.
“What polite help you have there, Mr. Di Giovanni.”
“He is not a fan of Americans,” Daniello remarked, amused. “Do not bother trying to befriend him.”
“Fine by me.”
Daniello grabbed my hand, ushering me into the small seaside restaurant. Though I may have demanded dinner, Daniello seemed to have arranged it already as we were led to a very small and intimate private dining room. As I sipped my white wine, I asked my first question.