Seduced by the Italian Billionaire Read online

Benito grinned, his white teeth sparkling. "I wasn't offended in the least. It's a good thing to have a friend looking out for your interests."

  Soon we moved to sit at one of the glossy black tables adjacent to the bar, and spent the next twenty minutes or so talking and laughing over the pulsing beat of the music. After my third drink, I became pleasantly lightheaded, not just from the alcohol, but from the way Benito kept looking at me from under his lashes, intently, as if I were the only girl in the club.

  When he asked if I wanted to dance, I said yes, a bit giggly. But my giggles quickly subsided once we began dancing. Smooth, confident, and perfectly in time with the music, he proved he had some serious rhythm. To the point that several girls nearby began openly watching him, their expressions admiring. But he didn't even seem to notice. He only had eyes for me.

  Over the next hour or so, Tasha danced by a few times to fling a little silver glitter at Benito and me, and to remind me to live. Only, she didn't need to remind me. I hadn't felt so alive in months, maybe years. And not only alive in terms of a zest for life. I was beginning to feel alive in other ways as well. Particularly when Benito pulled me close, and we danced hip-to-hip, the fronts of our bodies lightly touching. Several times, my hands met with the hardness of his chest, and that, combined with the rhythmic motion of our hips, sent currents of electricity racing from my head to the tips of my toes.

  Sometime around two in the morning, or three, or it could have even been four, because being with Benito had made me lose track of time, the bartender shouted last call, and Tasha and I ducked into the restroom together. She said one of the new guys she'd met would be giving her a ride home.

  "That is, if that Benito dude is giving you a ride home, because I don't wanna leave you to take a cab all by yourself."

  Still a little tipsy from my earlier drinks, I looked into the mirror, reapplying some fuchsia lipstick. "Yeah. Yeah, I definitely think I'll take a ride home with him. I mean if he asks to give me a ride home."

  Tasha finished smoothing her short, swingy black hair, frowning. "You crazy? The way he was lookin' at ya all night? The way he didn't even hardly look away from ya? Of course he gonna offer you a ride home." She gave me a quick squeeze before heading out the door. "Crazy girl."

  A few seconds later, she poked her head back in the restroom. "And don't forget to have fun! Live it up, girl! You deserve it."

  I left the club the same way I'd come in, which was to say, looking for Benito. He wasn't nearby when I left the restroom, so I went outside, thinking he might be waiting for me near the main doors. But he wasn't.

  With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I watched a few couples leave the club, arm in arm. One pair was kissing as they slowly walked down the street. Another was leaned against a parking meter, locked in embrace. I hugged my arms around my ribs, the clear June night suddenly seeming a bit cold.

  But just then, a very expensive-looking shiny black car with tinted windows pulled up to the curb. Benito asked if he could give me a lift.

  Smiling, I hopped in while a few people nearby looked at the car appreciatively and one guy made a low whistle.

  Benito asked if I'd like to come back to his place for a nightcap, and I hesitated for just a moment before saying yes, not wanting the way I felt around him to end.

  During the drive through Manhattan, he asked me about my family and told me a little about his own, saying that his parents and his brother's family lived nearby. "Which is both good and bad. Good, because I love my family and I do enjoy seeing them. But bad, because this gives them very frequent opportunities to ask me when I'm going to settle down and get married. They don't understand that I simply haven't found the right woman yet. Which is because I'm not interested in marrying a woman I can live with; I'm waiting for the one that I can't live without."

  Benito was becoming more and more attractive to me each minute I spent with him. I studied his long, strong fingers on the steering wheel, wondering how they'd feel caressing my face. And my shoulders. And my entire body.

  He parked in front of a high-rise in a very upscale part of the city. I wasn't even surprised when he hit the highest-numbered button in the elevator, the one that would take us to the penthouse. Benito took my hand, his touch making my skin tingle. Suddenly, I wasn't so sure if my lifelong policy of not having sex on a first date even stood a chance.

  Chapter3

  After a walk down a short, plush-carpeted hallway, Benito opened the door to his penthouse, reached in, and flicked a few light switches, and allowed me to enter first. I stood in the black-and-white marble foyer, looking around, speechless. An enormous living room, all furniture upholstered in shades of gold and cream, opened into a kitchen so large my entire apartment could have fit in it twice. Polished pots and pans hung above a granite-topped island in the center.

  I turned to Benito, having difficulty finding my voice. "Your home is -- " I turned back to the living room, surveying a row of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city and thousands of twinkling lights below. "It's just beautiful."

  He took my hand, smiling. "Thank you. Please --" He gestured to the living room. "Make yourself at home. Would you like some champagne?"

  I nodded, smiling, and he led me into the living room and seated me on a long, cream-colored couch before going out to the kitchen for the champagne. I relaxed in the comfort of the thick cushions, wondering how much a penthouse like this would cost, certain it would be more than I'd ever make in a lifetime as a teacher. And, in fact, I was certain the gold-and-crystal electric candle wall sconces, which were placed at intervals around the room, casting low, warm, golden light, had probably cost more than I'd make in several months.

  Soon, Benito returned with two champagne flutes, two champagne flutes, a bottle of Dom Perignon chilling in a bucket of ice, and a plate of the reddest, most perfect, and most juicy-looking strawberries I'd ever seen. I'd never been served Dom Perignon in my life, let alone with such perfect berries carefully arranged on a bone china plate, the edges of it decorated in gold.

  Suddenly self-conscious and overcome by the feeling of being so spoiled, I realized my eyes were growing a little misty while Benito uncorked the champagne bottle and filled our glasses.

  Handing me my glass, he noticed my filling eyes instantly and asked me what was wrong, his dark brows drawing together with concern.

  I sniffed, shaking my head and smiling a little. "Absolutely nothing. Nothing is wrong. It's just that I guess sometimes in life, you can go along with everything being wrong; you can go along for whole years even with everything being wrong, and it doesn't make you cry; you just feel numb to it somehow. You just get used to things. And then something positive happens; someone comes along and makes you feel a little special, and it's a good feeling, and you're happy. But that's when you want to cry. Even though nothing on earth is wrong. It's strange."

  He nodded. "I think I understand."

  I smiled, blinking away the last of the moisture in my eyes. "I guess I'm just not used to being this spoiled."

  Benito's eyes widened with what seemed to be true surprise.

  "You're not?"

  "No. Not at all. At least...I haven't been spoiled in a really long time. And never like this."

  "A warm, sensitive, beautiful woman like you should be spoiled every day of her life, in every possible way. A beautiful woman like you should be spoiled nearly senseless."

  A little heat sprang to my face, warm enough that I was sure my cheeks were coloring pink. I knew I was maybe cute, and maybe even somewhat pretty, but I also knew my nose was a little too broad and my eyes a little too close-set to fit the definition of what most people considered beautiful. In the past, different boyfriends had occasionally called me beautiful, but never in a way that made me feel they really meant it. One boyfriend had only said it when I realized after a year of dating that he never had. And even then, he'd said it with something like a sigh. But to my astonishment, Benito seemed completely sincere.

  "
It's kind of you to say that. Thank you."

  He smiled and raised his glass. "To Felicia being spoiled, as she should be. To her letting herself enjoy it. And to this special night, and all its possibilities."

  I clicked my glass with his and took a sip of the chilled champagne, my face flushing even a little warmer, thinking about all those possibilities. I couldn't deny that Benito had stirred feelings and passions inside of me that I'd almost forgotten even existed. I couldn't deny that at that moment, the faint outline of his chest muscles, their definition visible through his shirt, made me wonder what his chest looked like without a shirt. I couldn't deny that maybe I desperately needed a night of physical pleasure and that maybe it'd be good for me.

  And a short while later, after Benito and I had enjoyed the champagne and strawberries, and after he'd traced the curves of my mouth with a strawberry before feeding it to me, I made a decision. I decided I was not only going to let Benito spoil me, I was going to spoil myself. I was going to allow myself to give in to physical pleasure. I was going to allow myself to feel good. As Tasha would say, I was going to live.

  Benito fed me another strawberry, slowly gliding it across the fullness of my mouth before nudging the sweet fruit between my lips. I chewed and swallowed, making a tiny sigh, pleasantly light-headed from the champagne. Benito moved closer to me on the couch, putting an arm around my shoulders, his scent, something woodsy, citrusy, and clean, combined with his deep brown eyes dizzying me even further.

  "I want to kiss you, Felicia. But I don't think you deserve any ordinary kiss. I think you deserve a kiss so magnificent, so rapturous, so glorious, as to be worthy of your exquisite face. I think you deserve a kiss you'll never forget. So give me a moment. I must prepare myself to execute this kiss."

  His mouth twitching with a smile, Benito closed his eyes and bowed his head, presumably preparing for the kiss. I giggled, butterflies dancing in my stomach. And when he opened his eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting with amusement, I couldn't help but giggle again.

  "Okay. Lay it on me, Ben. And by God, this better be the best kiss I've ever experienced in my life. But no pressure."

  He chuckled, pulling me closer, and brushed a strand of hair away from my face. And then he kissed me. And the butterflies dancing in my stomach erupted in some sort of really wild and frenzied foxtrot.

  Benito kissed me slow at first, his firm mouth meeting mine in a sensual exploration. But soon the kiss deepened into one more passionate, our mouths melting against each other, tongues flicking, stroking, teasing. Benito wrapped me in his arms, one hand cradling my head. Pulse pounding, I ran my hand along his muscular back, feeling every hard ridge and taught sinew.

  Presently, he broke the kiss, his chocolate brown eyes twinkling, asking how he'd done.

  Nearly breathless, I managed a little smile. "Well -- on a rapture scale of one to ten, I'd give you an eleven. But just to make sure, why don't you kiss me again."

  Smiling, he did, and soon moved a hand to my hip. I began tangling my fingers in his thick, dark hair, biting back a moan when he began running a hand from my hip to my inner thigh, his fingers slow and caressing. An ache developed low in my stomach, intensifying at the sound of a growl rumbling in Benito's chest.

  It wasn't long before he broke the kiss again and asked if I'd like to go somewhere more comfortable, his deep chocolate eyes glassy in the golden light. I said yes, and he began leading me out of the living room and down a hallway. But we didn't make it far.

  We stopped to kiss again next to a piece of statuary on a marble stand not even two feet into the hallway. He ran a hand from my lower back to my bottom, his touch leaving a trail of electricity.

  I pulled away for a moment, peeled my shirt off, and let it fall to the floor in a heap. "I want you, Benito. I want you so bad."

  I'd never said a line like that before in my life. But I'd never wanted anyone so badly before, either.

  Kissing me hungrily, he unzipped my skirt with one hand, and it fell to my ankles. I stepped out of it and kicked it aside. Suddenly seeming to realize I was dressed in only a bra, underwear, and high heels, Benito pulled away and looked me over from head to toe, his breathing fast and ragged.

  "Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful."

  In one smooth movement, he unclasped my black lace bra, removed it, and let it fall. The sensation of his hands cupping my full breasts made me sigh with pleasure, and when he began circling my nipples with his thumbs while kissing me, I moaned. He pressed himself against me, his hardness straining against the fabric of his pants. The ache low in my belly became almost unbearable, and I broke the kiss, stepped out of my skimpy black lace underwear, and flung them away. They landed on the nearby statue, which was a white marble angel.

  "Oh! Sorry."

  Benito glanced at the angel, black scrap of lace hanging off one wing, his mouth curving in a grin. "That's okay. It's a sexy angel now. Just like you."

  We made it a few more steps down the hallway before I practically tore off his clothes.

  Panting, I feasted my eyes on his rock-hard manhood, which pointed straight at the ceiling, long and thick. "I want you right now. I want you inside of me."

  I wrapped a hand around his hardness, making him groan, while he cupped my bare bottom and kissed me, his tongue thrusting in rhythm with mine.

  We stumbled our way to his bedroom, and he set me on the bed, then removed my high heels. And after lighting a few candles on the mirrored dresser, he joined me, half-hovering above me, on his side.

  "Your skin in this light, Felicia...you almost seem to glow."

  He dipped his head and began trailing a line of warm, slow kisses from the base of my collarbone to my ear, his long, strong fingers caressing the slick folds between my thighs. I moaned, and again, louder when he discovered my most sensitive spot and began stroking.

  With agonizing slowness, he trailed a line of kisses from my throat down to my stomach, stopping to tease my stiffened nipples with his tongue along the way. He continued the kisses even lower, his head between my thighs, the feel of his mouth on my skin making me clutch the silky bed sheets.

  At the sensation of his tongue slowly stroking the throbbing center of my womanhood, I arched my back, my breath coming in ragged gasps. And before long, waves of pleasure washed over me, pleasure so intense that I couldn't help but cry out, every muscle in my body tightening and releasing.

  When the last spasm of ecstasy had passed, Benito lifted his head and moved to lie beside me once again, on his side.

  Rolling over and wrapping a leg around his hip, I whispered near his ear. "I want to feel you inside me now."

  Needing no further invitation, he positioned his granite-hard shaft at the entrance of my womanhood. The slide in elicited animal-like cries from us both. I clung to his shoulders, reveling in the sensation of being perfectly filled. Soon he rolled me onto my back and began thrusting with long, slow, powerful strokes, his groans joining with my moans. I dug my fingers into his sides, pleasure building inside me once again.

  When Benito quickened the pace, his thrusts becoming faster and more powerful, I matched my hips to his movements, taking him in deeper and deeper still. He growled his completion while my own body shuddered in climax, stars exploding behind my closed eyelids.

  We fell asleep, our fingers and legs entwined, just as the bedroom walls blushed pink with the first rays of dawn. I slept deeply, waking several hours later to a very pleasant and most unexpected surprise.

  Chapter4

  Benito entered the bedroom wearing nothing but boxer shorts, a tray with breakfast for two clasped between his hands.

  I sat up, smiling. "Wow. Thank you."

  He smiled in return. "I wasn't kidding. You should be spoiled every day."

  We spent the next half-hour in bed, talking, laughing, and nibbling on eggs, bacon, toasted croissants, and melon. I began to feel like I'd known him forever, and that I could tell him anything. He gave me his full attention while listening,
his eyes rarely leaving my face. I never wanted our time together to end. But around ten, I happened to catch sight of a clock on the nightstand.

  "Oh. I just realized I'm supposed to be chaperoning a summer kick-off barbeque at the youth center at noon. A group of other teachers at my school and I volunteer to help out at it every year, and I really shouldn't miss it."

  Benito said he understood, and after he'd given me a few quick kisses, we both got dressed, and he drove me home.

  We sat parked in front of my building for a few minutes, and I told him I had to tell him something.

  "I guess it's just -- " I sighed, looking at my hands. "What am I trying to say, here. I guess I just want to say that I've had kind of a rough couple of weeks, a very rough couple of weeks actually, and I really needed last night. You really made me feel so special and – just, better. So thank you. So much. I appreciated you spending time with me and all the spoiling. But just so you know -- just so you don't think I'm 'easy' or anything. One night stands aren't usually my thing. And in fact, I'd never actually had one before."

  Benito furrowed his dark brows. "Who had a one night stand? I didn't. I'd love to continue this -- I'd love to take you out again this weekend."

  I lifted my gaze to his face, a bit incredulous. "You would?"

  "Of course. That is, if you're interested in continuing things."

  I smiled. "Yeah. I'd like that."

  Benito smiled in return. "Good. Then, I'll call you before this weekend."

  I practically skipped up to my fifth-floor apartment.

  But once I'd showered and began getting ready for the barbeque, I began having doubts about if I actually would see Benito again. Never having had a one night stand before, I wondered if "I'll call you next weekend" was just something men said to avoid awkwardness. I knew Tasha had heard that line before, only to never hear from the man again. But Benito had seemed sincere when he'd said it. He'd seemed sincere about everything he'd said to me during our time together, including when he'd called me beautiful. But then again, I knew some men were just good at faking sincerity. My ex-boyfriend Dwayne had been pretty convincing when he'd told me that he couldn't imagine ever being with anyone but me, and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. Exactly one month before he'd broken up with me via text.