Still, a very small piece of my brain clung desperately to logic and knew that it was a bad idea. Gio was my captor and an incredibly dangerous man on top of it. The only reason he hadn’t killed me yet was because he believed I could somehow help him recover the half-a-million dollars my father owned him. He wasn’t interested in me sexually. It was obvious in the way that he disregarded me. Furthermore, I couldn’t give him such an intimate part of myself when I was trying to remain resolved. It was likely the only thing standing between me and total destruction.
But there was a carnal desire ripping at me from all directions.
It sent my fingers up inside myself, twisting and turning—searching for anything that would bring me that sensation, or just something close. It had my hand squeezing my breast and my eyes clenched shut and envisioning Gio’s naked body. His tattoos swirling up his arms, his carved pecs and abs, his impressive standing and leaking length.
Why was I suddenly so thirsty?
I tried to stop myself. Tried to beg my hands to be still and for my body to calm down, but every attempt I made only resulted in me flying into a fit of rage, touching myself again and trying to achieve something satisfying. I’d pleasured myself before and done just fine, but now it felt like nothing I could do would be enough. Did it have to be him? Was he the only one capable of bringing me to that place of pleasure? Was it worth it to let him? Would he even do it if I told him that I wanted him to?
As if he'd been summoned by my thoughts of him, my bedroom door opened and Gio stepped inside. He shut and locked the door behind him but stayed lingering near it. By that point, I was on full display. My legs were splayed open, and my hands were fastened to my most intimate places—one up my shirt and the other down my pants. In the far recess of my mind, I knew that I should be hiding or covering myself, but no amount of motivation to do that seemed to be working. His eyes on me were lighting me on fire and I couldn't bring myself to hide from it.
"Are you okay, Avion?" Gio asked in a dark, sexy tone. "You seem distressed." He had a sly look on his face that told me he already knew the answer to the question.
"I'm not okay," I whimpered. "I wanna feel how she felt."
He screwed his face in confusion like he really didn't know what I was talking about. "Who?"
"That woman you were with." I rubbed myself shamelessly, dragging my finger along the nub at my crest in search ofanyrelief. "She seemed like she was in so much pleasure. I want to feel that too."
Gio took a few steps closer to the bed. "I'd be more than willing to help you with that if you just ask nicely."
It was a bad idea, I knew that. For absolutely no reason should I be showing such a side of myself to Gio? For absolutely no reason should I allow him to touch me?
But I just couldn't resist.
"Yes," I huffed. "Please help me."
"I'll help you, but you must use my name, and you must be specific," Gio replied.
"Giovanni," I moaned out and it made his eyes flare with excitement. "Please. Touch me like you touched her. Help me feel that good."
I didn't recognize the desperate tone of my voice. Logic was out the window and all I wanted was to take the road that would quickest lead to pleasure.
He rolled up the sleeves and took slow, deliberate steps towards me. "I'll give you a preview since you asked so nicely, but you must do exactly as I say."
"I will. Please," I begged.
"Take off your clothes," Gio instructed. "Slowly. Start with your shirt, then your pants, save your underwear for last."
Even though the thought of undressing with someone's full scrutiny on me made me boil with embarrassment, my mind was on the pleasure. I tried to think of it in terms of how I'd gotten my big, fully stocked room. I asked and he listened, so long as I followed the one instruction, he gave me. When I did, he rewarded me with such an incredible space.
This was the same concept.
So, I pulled my hands free of where they were held and started to follow the directives. Sitting up in the bed, first I lifted my shirt over my head and tossed it to the side, then I moved on to my pants, pulling them down my legs until there was enough bunched-up fabric that I could pull from the bottom and rip them off.
When I was down to my bra and panties, I hesitated. He told me to save them, but did he want me to do them in a particular order?
"Something wrong?" he asked.
"W-what now?"
He lifted an eyebrow. "Hm?"
Every part of my body was sizzling. I remembered his rules—use his name and be specific—so I said, "What do you want me to remove next, Gio?"
He let out a deep growl of satisfaction and stepped up to the edge of the bed. He pinched my chin and tilted my head up to look at him. "You're already very good at this. I am pleased."
Hearing him hiss those words—I am pleased—sent a wave of electricity coursing through my veins. I wanted to please him as much as I wanted to be pleased.
