CLAIMED BY THE SICILIAN TYCOON by Emma Shortt
Billionaire media magnate, Andros Casstellini, think women are there for one thing, and one thing only. Lyra ‘the man eater’ Matthews tends to think the same about men. But Andros has something she needs, namely cash—and lots of it, so on this occasion Lyra has no choice but to hang around for a while, and one quick tumble isn’t going to cut it, Lyra has to make him burn…
Andros’ desire for Lyra is immediate. The more time he spends with her the more he wants her. But nothing he does will bring her to heel...until Lyra spells it out pure and simple. A mistress she will be, and it is going to cost him.
Before long Andros and Lyra are wrapped up in one another, in a relationship that neither could have expected, but she is brimming with secrets, and heart ache is just around the corner…
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The drive back to Andros’ home was tense, much more so than the short drive to the restaurant had been. The car was practically thrumming with the awareness between them, and it took everything he had to keep his hands, and his mouth, to himself. But Andros knew he had to play it right, to grab at some sort of patience.
Lyra was sat next to him, seemingly serene. Her hands were placed on her lap, her legs crossed, and she was looking out of the window at the passing scenery. Only the windows were tinted, so there was little to see. He paused; maybe she was not so serene after all.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked softly.
“To my home—one of them at least,” he said, though really they should be going to a hotel. He never took women back to his town house, only he didn’t think he could last out the time to get to a hotel, and besides, he wanted no distractions. Just him and her, and the pleasure they were going to give each other.
“You live alone,” she said. Andros could tell by the tone of her voice that it was not a question.
“No staff.” Again it was not a question.
“Not live in,” he replied.
He shifted in his seat as he considered how she knew his living arrangements, the issue with the register prodding him again. But desire was clouding his brain, making it difficult to consider all the little warning signs which said quite clearly that his meeting with Lyra was not by chance. It was arranged by her for a very specific reason.
He thought of her words in the restaurant, exactly what it was she wanted from him, and frowned inwardly. He couldn’t think about that right now. The only thing on his mind was fucking her as soon as possible. Hard. Fast. God, he couldn’t wait to sink inside her, to lose himself in waiting wetness.
“And when we get to your home?” she asked.
Images of her long legs wrapped around him, her breasts in his mouth, her lips running along his cock filled Andros, and he didn’t think before reaching across the space between them, placing a finger under her chin. She turned her head for him—anticipating his action—and their eyes met. The tension ratcheted up another notch. Andros was tempted to lean across and kiss her. Only he suspected once he started he would not stop, and the back of his Bentley was no place for the sort of seduction he planned.
“I am going to fuck you,” he said bluntly.
She nodded, seemingly not the least bit perturbed by his words. “Yes you are.”
He moved his finger from her chin, running it down her neck. Her skin was as soft as he had expected it to be, and despite his resolution to wait, to hold on to the little control he had left, Andros could not help but continue the journey downwards. He ran the pad of his finger across her collarbone, inhaling sharply when he felt how fragile it was. Then down across her chest, over the light dusting of freckles, before finishing at the fabric of her dress.
“Do they go all the way down?” he asked.
She gave him a quizzical look. “They?”
“The freckles,” he said. “Do they go all the way past here?” He tugged on the fabric with his finger, pushing it away from her skin.
She sighed softly. “Yes they do.”
Carefully, slowly, Andros closed the distance between them. The leather of the seats creaked, the noise a sharp counterpoint to their breathing.
“I’m going to kiss every single one. I’m going to kiss and lick every inch of you, Rossa.”
She smiled that sultry smile again. “You think you can find every single one?”
“I think I am going to try.”
By the time they made it to his home Andros was ready to burst. He unlocked the front door, and pulled her into the lobby with him. A moment later the door was locked, they were alone, and nothing stood in their way.
“Come here,” he demanded, and just like in the car, she complied.
It was just two small steps, straight into his outstretched arms, and it was only when she was up close to him that Andros realized she was smaller than he’d thought. Even in those killer heels, she reached only to his shoulder. With them removed, she would be smaller still, delicate even. Except that delicate did not match the fire flashing in her eyes and his dick hardened as soon as he looked into them.
“You are so beautiful,” he breathed.
“You’re not too bad yourself, Andros.”
He lifted a hand and ran the back of it along her face. Her eyelids fluttered as he did so. When she let out a soft sigh, he knew that this was going to be easy. More than that, it was going to be exciting. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, prodding him, urging him and Andros gave into it.
“We are going to have so much fun together,” he whispered. “So much.”
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