Gambler's Folly (Bookstrand Publishing Romance) (19 page)

“I don’t know what to do, Damiano, I really don’t.” Attempting to slow the flood of tears, she continued. “I don’t understand what has happened to me or what I am. You told me we would never want or seek anyone else. But if you think I’m going to be beaten and treated viciously by someone who claims to love me—‘all you need is a good firm hand and the occasional beating’—you can think again.”

“What are you talking about, cara? Who is going to beat you or treat you badly? Have I treated you badly, somehow?” He was very confused at this point.

“It’s the whole domination thing. You said that your role was to dominate me completely and mine was to surrender or submit. And I know what men mean when they say they want to dominate someone. I saw my friends covered in bruises from their dominating husbands. I won’t have it, Damiano. I simply won’t.”

“I think there is a misunderstanding, cara. Language can be so difficult. What you are calling dominating is what I would call domineering, which is a different thing. In a partnership, one partner is always dominant, the senior partner. In difficult issues, his is the final word, the final decision.

“When I said my role was to dominate you, I was referring to the sexual bonding only, for one time, to prove I was strong enough to be your mate.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Dam.” She was confused now. “How was that different?”

“A long time ago, when the were-cats became a species, they spent more time as cats than we do now. As cats, the females needed mates who were strong enough to sire and protect the young ones, and protect them during their pregnancy, childbirth, and when the babies were very young.”

“Okay, but what does this have to do with us?”

“Let me explain, cara. The bonding ritual began as a way of testing the males, choosing the strongest to father the young. In order to earn the privilege of mating with a female, the male had to be able to catch her, subdue her, and finally dominate her, to the point where she would allow him to have her. He couldn’t mate with her until she willingly surrendered to him.”

“And this became a ritual? All the way down to this time?” Karianna was amazed.

“Yes, cara. It evolved until it is now locked into our genetics, our own body chemistry. Our scent controls part of it, but something else triggers the initiation in the females. Once you ladies release the pheromones beginning the thing, we males have no choice. It is a challenge we must meet.”

“So it’s only during this bonding thing?”

“Yes, cara, and occasionally in bed,” he added smiling. “I thought you liked it. You certainly act like you do.”

“Be serious, Damiano. It really worries me.”

“Karianna, amore, have I ever treated you badly? Have you ever been frightened of me, or by me?”

“Well, no,” she admitted.

“The way I have treated you before is the way I will treat you always, cara. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

The rest of the evening was warm and loving, comforting. She wondered how she’d ever doubted him, when she thought of it again. He was right. He’d always been so concerned for her, she’d never had the slightest fear. She went to sleep peacefully.

* * * *

Waking fairly early, she found Damiano in the living room reading the paper, coffee and croissants at hand. Helping herself, she snuggled up next to him, completely contented.

He had a couple hours free this morning, so after a quick romp, they ordered up breakfast for two and talked while they ate.

“Cara, how can you be so ravenous still, it’s not like I make you do without.”

“Me, ravenous? You started it.”

“I started it? How? I was just sitting there reading the paper.”

“Right, with no shirt on and nothing underneath those lounging pants, all stretched out on the sofa, advertising.”

“I was comfortable,” he countered. “How was I supposed to know you’d wake up voracious?”

“I didn’t. It’s the ‘oh-so-magnificent’ chest you have, muscles down as far as I can see. And you smell so marvelous, warm and spicy, with a hint of something like frankincense or amber. Sexy.”

“You must have been a prostitute in another life, cara. Normal women aren’t this hungry.”

“If you wanted normal, you should have married someone else.”

“I suppose you’re right. But why eat chopped meat when you can have caviar?”

He finally left for his meetings and whatever else he had going, and Karianna went to work out with Carl. He told her she was doing fantastically, much better than when she’d started. After the cheeseburger the day before, she really put all she had into her exercise.

The shower felt marvelous, but the workout had left her hungry. Of course it had been hours since breakfast, so she could get some lunch when she got back to the suite. Damiano wouldn’t be in today, which was disappointing, but she should be able to cope.

Thinking about the cheeseburger, she decided a salad would be a better choice today. The one she ordered from the kitchen had a lovely mix of salad greens, tomatoes, olives, cucumber slices, and sliced chicken. It also came with some whole grain bread buttered lightly.

After lunch, she was at a loss for something to do. She tried to read, watch a movie, and practice her recorders—which Damiano had replaced after the fire—but she was restless. The image of a tiger on the prowl came to her, and though it was amusing, it made her miss Damiano more.

Why did he have meetings during lunch? He knew she liked to have him here. Maybe he was getting tired of her and wanted a break. They’d been married less than a year and he was tiring of her already. Perhaps he was just bored. He’d probably been quite a player before she’d arrived. Maybe he missed the variety.

Yesterday she had been upset and spent the day crying. Today she was just pissed off. How could he just leave her here, all by herself, with nothing to do? The longer it went on, the angrier she became. Part of her mind tried to reason with her, saying she was blowing it all out of proportion. She could at least let him explain when he got in. The other part of her mind told it to piss off.

Instead, he barely caught the vase, before it hit him in the face, when he came through the door. As she picked up something else to throw, he said, “Karianna, stop. I don’t know what is wrong, but if you throw that at me, you’ll go back into restraints. Mate or not, I’m not having this.”

He looked like his day had been frustrating, too, that little part of her mind which could still reason told her. Ignoring it, she yelled at him, asking him why he had to leave her here to eat alone. Was she that boring?

“Cara mia, I’ve had a long day. I had a business meeting over lunch which was exasperating on all counts. I had to have it then, because it was the only time two of these clients could meet with me. And it was imperative that I meet with them.”

“That’s no excuse, Damiano Leone.”

“No, it’s a reason. And the rest of the day was equally frustrating. For some reason, I was on edge from the time I left this morning. Nothing went right. I snapped and growled at everyone, some of them literally, and there were one or two whose throats I could have torn out. Now what is wrong?” he demanded.

“I don’t know!” she shouted back at him. “I’m just bitchy today. I can’t find anything to do. I’m restless, pacing back and forth like a caged leopard and wanting to fight. You know I like to have lunch with you, and even knowing you were in a meeting didn’t help the fact that you weren’t here. I’m still mad and can’t seem to stop.”

“You want to fight? Let’s fight.” He took off his jacket and tie, kicked off his shoes and stalked toward her. She backed away growling gently, his green-gold eyes on her, pupils slit.

His sudden attack took her by surprise, but she struggled free temporarily and dodged behind the sofa. Leaping over the furniture, Damiano snatched her off her feet and took her to the floor, pinning her down. The deep rumble in his chest sounded ominous as his canines morphed into fangs, which he bared in her face.

Karianna struggled against his strength as she watched his teeth move slowly toward her throat. With him firmly grasping her, his fangs over her carotid artery, she couldn’t move without risking injury. Just as slowly, he relaxed his jaws and instead began to lick her face, like the great cat he was.

“Stop it, Damiano,” she insisted. “That’s disgusting!” His chuckle was about half growl.

“But you taste so delicious, cara,” he answered and then began to kiss her seductively.

“No you don’t!” she told him. “You’re not getting off that easily.”

“Alright, Topolina, so you still want to play?” He rolled up to his feet and watched her stand up to move away. Stalking her around the room, getting her cornered and then letting her escape, they played tag all over the suite, trashing the entire place with their game. He padded through the hallways, jumped over furniture to cut off her retreat, occasionally grabbed hold of her for a brief kiss or love bite before letting her break loose again.

They played this game for nearly an hour before Karianna really began to tire. When they’d begun, she was angry, but the more tired she became, the more she wanted to let go and enjoy being captured. But one part of her mind simply wouldn’t let go of the anger.

“So, my little plaything, are you tired of running yet?” Damiano asked her. “I’m about ready for a snack.” He snapped his teeth at her, his eyes tracking her every movement.

Glancing around to find a way out which she’d somehow missed before, she found he’d halved the distance between them in the short span of time she’d looked away. He looked more predatory than she’d ever seen him before, watching and waiting for the opening he wanted. His scent was beginning to change and it affected her strongly, calling her to him relentlessly.

She shook her head, trying to think clearly. Slowly backing away, she moved down the hallway leading to the guest rooms. Damiano watched her go, stalking his prey patiently, waiting for her to make a mistake. Reaching the end of the hallway, she had two choices, and as tired as she was, fighting his scent all the way, she made the wrong choice. One direction led back around to the dining room and kitchen, the other to a guest bedroom.

She backed through the doorway and realized her mistake, but much too late. With a snarl, Damiano reached her in two bounds, blocking her escape. Backing her slowly into the room, he closed and locked the door behind him, his eyes on her the whole time.

“Now, Gattina, you are mine. It is your choice to keep fighting or surrender to me. It will not affect the outcome in the slightest. I will have you whenever, and however, I like.”

She began to panic. For some reason she needed to get away. Even she could see it was impossible, but surrender just wasn’t in her nature. Her inner cat screamed its challenge, answered by his cat’s roar.

She was captured in seconds and thrown onto the bed, pinned beneath him as his mouth sought hers, at first hungrily and forcefully, becoming deeper and more seductive, as if savoring a particularly tasty treat and willing it to last as long as possible.

Rolling over briefly, he undressed, watching her as he did so. As he started back over to her, she tried to slide away.

“Cara, there is no escape,” he told her, as his hand grasped her ankle and dragged her across the bed, back to him. He very deliberately undressed her, while at the same time keeping her where he wanted her, his eyes drinking in each inch of her body as he did. Then, pressing her into the bed, he began his assault on her senses, his hands stroking her body in ways he had learned excited her the most. His mouth was on hers, demanding, then caressing, tasting hers deeply and completely. His scent was very strong and getting stronger by the minute.

Very soon, she was completely aroused and more than ready for him to love her, but he seemed in absolutely no hurry. His scent was warm, seductive, and overpowering.

“Damiano, please,” she whispered. “I need you now.”

“Patience is a virtue, cara, one I intend for you to develop,” he answered, never ceasing his fondling of her body.

The longer he continued, the more she ached for him, needed him to have her and give her the release she had to have. He growled deep in his chest and increased his attentions even more.

She noticed a change in his scent. It had become, for lack of any other way to describe it, darker and more woodsy, with more of a musky tone. It spoke to her body of passionate sex, of being completely taken by the alpha male who was her mate. And it caused her scent to change as well, though she hadn’t the words to describe it adequately.

“Now, cara,” was all he said, but she knew exactly what he meant. Opening to him, she thought she’d never felt anything more absolutely erotic than this, as he slowly took her, his teeth once again on her throat, gently holding her in place. Ever so slowly and oh so deliberately, knowing she wanted him now, right this very minute, passionately and forcefully, he entered her fully. Slowly rocking his body back and forth across her pelvis, he teased her, arcing back and forth within her body, building her needs ever stronger. His kisses teased her neck and throat, his teeth nipped her shoulders.

“Damn you, you bastard! Take me!”

“What was that, cara?” he asked, releasing her throat.

“You know what I want, just do it,” she answered, her hunger for him becoming her whole world.

“I don’t think so, Topolina. Tiger hasn’t finished playing with his dinner,” he said, growling softly, deep in his chest.

Moving slowly, ever so slowly, he took pleasure in her frantic pleading and struggles, holding back to increase the effect when he would finally give way to his own needs. All the time spent on self-control, over his changing form, had its compensations in other areas as well.

When he finally let his urges take over, he was nearly savage, but by this time, savage is what she needed. Screaming out in pure, unadulterated pleasure, she let go completely, indulging in sensations she hadn’t known existed. Their coupling was wild and predatory, harkening back to a much earlier time.

Waking up later, it was far too late to go down to the gaming rooms, so they had dinner in. Marco came up to check on them and smiled slyly at Damiano’s explanation and the lingering scent in the air. The entire suite was trashed. Housekeeping would be busy the next day, though she wasn’t about to explain it to them.