One Night: Sizzling Attraction: Married for Amari's Heir / Damaso Claims His Heir / Her Secret, His Duty

“Yes it does,” she said.

He cut her words off with a fierce kiss, still holding the gem on her necklace. “No,” he said, resting his forehead against hers, “you are not a con woman. You have done dishonest things. I believe that you have conned people. I believe you conned me. But those cons...they are just things you’ve done. They are not you.”

She swallowed hard, her throat so tight she could barely breathe. “I don’t deserve that.”

“Life is nothing but a series of things we don’t deserve. Both good and bad. I say we take the good when it comes, because God knows the bad is never far behind.”

“I don’t...”

“Just accept it. Accept this,” he said, kissing her again.

She squeezed her eyes shut, kissing him back, drowning in him, in this. In the atonement that he offered. He was right, after all. Nothing of life was fair. She had accepted that in terms of the bad, and this was good. So she should take it. While it was here. Touch some of the brightness before it all slipped back into shadow.

Rocco gripped his tie and loosened it, and she helped him pull it through his collar, casting it down onto the floor. Her fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, clumsily undoing two of them, her hands shaking.

She didn’t know what the future held, but she knew she wanted this. She knew that she loved him. And she knew that she wanted this moment. Beyond that, she didn’t care.

He lowered them to the rug that covered the marble floor, not breaking their kisses as he did so. He settled over her, her skirt falling back, the split parting, revealing her leg. Rocco placed his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch burning through her skin, through her entire body.

“I have a fantasy,” he said, “of seeing you wearing nothing but this necklace.”

His words heated her body further, filled that empty place inside of her that was so hungry for someone to care. For someone to want her. She was his fantasy.

You’re mine.

And she knew now what that meant to him. Knew now that it was not meant to lessen the connection between them, because she had seen for herself just what a claim of ownership meant to him.

“It’s an easy fantasy to see realized,” she said, kissing him just below the line of his square jaw.

He reached behind her and tugged on the zipper of her dress, pulling the garment that would have cost a couple months of her waitressing wages down and discarding it in a molten gold ball on the floor. She wasn’t wearing a bra, nothing other than a black thong that was little more than a sheer whisper of lace, framing her body more than it concealed it. He curled his fingers over the waistband of her panties, rough skin brushing the most sensitive part of her as he dragged them down her legs.

“Yes,” he said, his breath hissing through his teeth, dark eyes intent on her body. “This is exactly what I wanted.” He reached up and touched the necklace, weighing it in his hands. “This is exactly how I thought it would look.” He let it fall between her breasts, the jewel warm from his touch. “I like having you here, with my collection. You are mine, Charity.”

She lifted her hand and pressed it to his chest, over his shirt, and she could feel his heart raging beneath her palm. “Mine,” she said, the word even more feral on her lips than it had been on his. “If you think you can take possession of me, then I will damn well take it of you.”

“You have it,” he said. “Though, I’m not sure why you would want it.”

“Is that a gift?”

“Yes.” He kissed her neck, the curve of her breast. “It is.”

“I’m up to two then.”

He straightened, undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt and discarding it. Then he put his hands on his belt, working it free as he took his shoes and socks off, making quick work of his pants and underwear, so soon he was as bare as she was. “All of this is yours, if you want.” She looked at him, his broad shoulders, his hard, well-defined muscles. His dark, intense eyes. “Say you want me,” he said, a note of desperation in his tone.