The Banker (Banker 1)
I wanted to fight the feeling because I was a proud woman, but when he felt so good between my legs, that seemed impossible. It didn’t matter how arrogant he was. It didn’t matter if he was a pompous asshole. He made me come better than any other man. “God…”
“Say my name.”
In the throes of passion, I couldn’t hesitate. “Cato.”
“Good, baby,” he breathed against my ear as he kept fucking me, kept driving his huge cock deep inside me.
My face moved into the mattress as I finished, the sheets swallowing my final moans.
He held his weight on top of me and finished with a masculine groan, his satisfaction audible in his deep voice. He hovered for a moment as he enjoyed every single second before the feeling wore off. Then he pulled his softening dick out of me and walked to the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower.”
I listened to the door shut behind him then heard the water run a second later. I stayed in the same position as my heart rate began to slow. That was the kind of morning sex I’d never had in my entire life. It was the perfect way to start a morning, even if my lover was a pompous and controlling asshole.
Now that he was gone, I picked up my dress and got ready. I didn’t know if he wanted me to stay or not, but I should leave as soon as possible. Cato Marino was a serious opponent that I couldn’t overpower, and now I feared my talents wouldn’t be enough. Even if I could lure him into trusting me, that only put me in more danger. Because the second he realized I was fooling him…he would shoot me in the head in his driveway.
After working at the gallery all day, I went home to my place outside of Florence. There was a black car in the driveway, and the front door was unlocked. Someone else would immediately call the cops, but I knew exactly who’d broken in to my home and trespassed on my property.
“A phone call would suffice.” I shut the door behind me and stepped into the house, knowing I would come face-to-face with Damien in just a few seconds.
“I’d rather see your pretty face, sweetheart.” Even when Damien was being civil, he sounded evil. He was a creepy goon, a vulture just waiting for me to be murdered so he could pick me apart.
I stepped into the kitchen and spotted him at my dining table. He’d helped himself to a glass of wine and had his feet resting on the other chair. He’d made himself at home—even though I would kill him if I ever got the opportunity. “Yes?” I snatched the bottle of wine off the table and poured myself a glass. “Does the little bitch have a message?”
His smile remained plastered on his face, but his eyes displayed a slight look of annoyance. He was second-in-command to Micah—and he didn’t like it one bit. He was the man who did the dirty work, much like a janitor in a school. “You’re the little bitch in this situation.”
“I disagree.” I took a drink then licked my lips. “What do you want, Damien? I’m busy.”
“You aren’t busy enough because we don’t have Cato.”
“You expect me to take down the richest man in Italy in a few weeks?” I stood at the counter with the glass in my hand, tilting my head slightly as I examined him. “Something you and Micah can’t even do? Don’t be ridiculous.”
He pulled a knife from his pocket and set it on the table in front of him. It was a subtle warning, a threat to slit my throat if I became difficult. “Between you and me, I want you to fail. Then you’ll be all mine. I’ll fuck you in the ass with this blade pressed right against that beautiful artery in your neck.”
Regardless of the danger, it was unacceptable to give in to fear. I refused to be afraid, to let this twisted man get under my skin. The second I did, he would have the upper hand. I sipped my wine like he hadn’t just threatened to rape and murder me. “I’d chop off your dick before you ever got the chance.”
His grin widened, because he was a sick son of a bitch that got off on this stuff. “I wonder if your cunt is as sweet as that mouth of yours.”
“You’ll never know.”
His smile dropped, just for an instant. “Are you going to make this happen or not?”
I’d slept with Cato, but I was no closer to accomplishing anything. That man was far more terrifying than Damien ever could hope to be. Not only was Cato cold, but he was controlling and domineering. He didn’t give second chances to anyone. The second he figured out my plan, I would be executed liked a prisoner of war. “You’re asking me to accomplish the impossible.”