Beast I Can’t Tame by L.K. Shaw

Chapter 16

Giovanni

Does Francesca see the burning fire of hatred for our enemies flickering in my eyes?

The skin under my fingertips is like silk, and tempers some, but not all, of the rage inside me. I force my body to stay relaxed, despite the murderous torrent flowing through my veins. I can understand the Russians trying to kill me. It’s how things are in our world. Kill the enemy before they kill you. So for them to leave me for dead? It’s the order of war.

But what they did to Francesca? How they are, after all this time, still managing to hurt her? I would coldly and callously murder every single one of them in a heartbeat. I would wreak total havoc and vengeance on them.

For her.

“Will you talk to me?” Francesca asks.

My brow crinkles. “About what?”

“Anything. Everything. I just like to hear the sound of your voice.” Her gaze darts away but returns. “It relaxes me.”

She scoots a bit closer into my side and lays her head on my shoulder. Another tight knot of tension unwinds inside me. I’ll give Francesca anything she wants.

“One day, about a year ago, I was driving Mr. Ricci. It was hot as hell that day. I sat inside the air conditioned car when the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen walked by.”

Francesca lifts her head and glares. “I’m not sure I like this story.”

“Will you let me finish, please?” I ask with a chuckle.

She huffs a little and rests back against me.

“The woman was stunning. Gorgeous. Absolutely took my breath away. She was the kind of woman I wished would want to be seen with me.”

“Not getting better,” she says in a high-pitched, sing-song voice.

I smile over the top of her head and continue. “I had to know who she was, because in that moment, I vowed that some day I’d be worthy of a woman like her. There were several town cars parked outside the venue with drivers waiting just like me. I prayed Mr. Ricci wouldn’t need to leave, and I stopped at every single car, asking if they knew who she was. Six cars later, I struck out.”

Francesca harrumphs.

“At least, I thought I had. Moments after I returned to the town car, Mr. Ricci comes walking out of the building. By his side is the woman I’d just desperately tried to identify. They chatted briefly, moving closer. I rushed over to open the back door, hoping she’ll glance in my direction. It was only for half a second—not even a full heartbeat—but our eyes met.” I pause a moment to replay the memory, that instant of connection. “Then, she glanced away, said goodbye to her uncle, and headed down the sidewalk, taking all the air from my lungs with her.” And maybe even a little piece of my heart.

It doesn’t take long for her to respond. Slowly, Francesca sits up, her eyes wide with awe and maybe a little understanding. I remove the champagne flute from her loose grasp before it tumbles to the floor and set it on the coffee table. My gaze returns to her and locks there, wanting her to know what she means to me. She swallows.

“Her—her uncle?” she whispers.

I reach up and push a few strands of hair off her face, drinking in how beautiful she is, made more so by the fact that she has no idea how she affects me. Not truly.

“I’ve done everything I could to show my loyalty to the family. I worked hard, because I wanted to be somebody. For you. Every time I saw you—talked to you, even if for only a second—I fell harder. You’re all I’ve thought about since that day. I’ve treasured every smile. Every laugh. Every glance. Every word you’ve ever spoken to me.”

Francesca’s eyes shimmer. She cocks her head and a tiny, watery smile tips up her lips, along with a small puff of laughter. “You know that sort of makes you sound like a creeper.”

I answer with a grin of my own. “Maybe, but look at me, now. I’ve got the woman of my dreams sitting nearly in my arms. It’s what I’ve wanted since that first moment I saw you. I knew that one of these days you’d be mine. I just had to be patient.”

She purses her lips. “I’m yours, am I? What about you? Does that mean you’re mine?”

“Every fucking inch of me. I’m completely and utterly yours and have been every day of my life for the last year,” I tell her with no hesitation.

Francesca’s entire body jolts and then freezes. She doesn’t move a muscle, except her eyes. They flit back and forth, her gaze taking in my whole face. There’s a hint of disbelief on her expression.Because she doesn’t think I’m telling the truth or because I am? Either way, she keeps taking me in.

At last, though, she creeps closer, leaning into me, placing a hand on my knee to brace herself. Her lips touch mine, caressing them softly, yet eagerly. She explores my mouth, her tongue teasing the corners and dragging along the seam, coaxing me to open to her. I part them, tipping my head to give her better access, and Francesca takes advantage of the move by swiping her tongue in further. Teasing me. Tempting me.

Once again, my self-control is testing what I can endure when she deepens the kiss, growing bolder, more confident. More in charge. I’ve never been one to let the woman lead, but here, with her, I’ll give up any urges I have to dominate. Until Francesca feels powerful enough, and safe enough, to give me the reins.

Unable to resist touching her, I spear my fingers through her hair, gently providing pressure. She moans against my mouth. It’s followed by soft whimpers of pleasure. I can’t help but nip her bottom lip, the fruit flavor of the champagne mixing with her unique one. Francesca gasps, and I fear I went too far, but she clambers onto her knees next to me and wraps her arms around my neck, cradling the back of my head in her hands.

Her lips only barely leave mine, her breath still hot against my skin. “Touch me, please.” There’s a needy thread to her plea.

“Where?” I ask, wanting her to make the decision.

She takes my hand and places it on her breast, pushing herself into my touch. The pebbled tip is hard against my palm. I squeeze and knead her flesh. Francesca sucks in another sharp breath, and I freeze. She covers my hand with hers and clutches me tighter.

“More,” she begs, murmuring the word against my lips before claiming them in another kiss, while together, we caress her breast.

My control remains taut, almost on the verge of snapping, but I keep a tight hold on it. I worship Francesca’s mouth. Her body. Giving as much pleasure as she’ll take from me until at last she pulls back, breathless and flushed. My fingers stop moving beneath hers, the muscles twitching against the resistance to keep squeezing.

Her hand slides off mine with agonizing slowness, as though she can hardly bear to break the connection, until it drops to her side. I force my hand off her body as well. Francesca’s gaze travels over my face. She bites her bottom lip in uncertainty.

“Will you be terribly upset if I stop?” she nearly whispers.

“Never. Are you okay?” I ask.

Her nod is shallow. “Yeah, it just got to be too much for a second there.”

“I understand.” And I did.

“Not that I wasn’t enjoying it. Because I was,” she rushes to reassure me.

I give her a half smile. “You just need a breather for a bit,” I say. “It’s all right. Really. This is all for you. At your pace. when you need to take a break, we’ll take one. No questions asked.”

She seems to weigh my sincerity, and then her body sags in relief. “Thank you. Will you just hold me again?”

“Whatever you want,” I say and raise my arm for her.

Francesca once again cuddles up against my side and lays her head on my shoulder while I wrap my arm around her, tucking her tighter against me. If this is all I get tonight, then I’m satisfied. This woman means more to me than some temporary pleasure. When she’s ready, it’ll be worth the wait.