January Whitehall
I check my teeth in the mirror before I leave for the dining room. I’ve put on dark crimson lipstick, and I want to look pretty for my date—or whatever it is—with Eli. I’m wearing a long gold dress I found in the closet and I’ve piled my hair on top of my head. I’m a little overdone, but Eli told me to ‘dress beautifully’ and I’ve never seen him in anything but a suit, so at least we’ll match.
I tuck Zia’s St. Christopher under my dress strap and make sure it’s firmly in place. When I figure out how to access my savings, I’ll buy a gold chain and wear it around my neck. Eli’s ruby collar sparkles accusingly at me from the top of the dresser. It would look lovely with this dress, but I’m scared that wearing it will send the wrong message while I try to figure out what I’m doing with these four men. I still can’t believe that all of the Velvet House boys want to be with me. That it’s a possibility they would even entertain.
And yet from the start they’ve always felt like a unit to me. Like they belong together. Whether I belong with them, I’m less sure of.
I’m attracted to each of them, but they’ve also hurt me. Badly. And how am I supposed to keep any of these vicious men in line? Although if I didn’t have to choose between them, I suppose they’d keep each other in line. Like Eli does with Doc and Bobby does with Adriano. Maybe it would be easy to have four boyfriends.
You’re so greedy, a voice in my head snarls. You’re a nasty little slut.
It sounds like my stepmother. God, if she knew what I was thinking about… Then again, she gave Mr. Parker my passport. After that kind of betrayal, she shouldn’t be allowed to take up space in my mind. I give my hair a last pat and leave the bedroom. I make my way through the mansion, catching glimpses of my reflection in the darkened windows. I look different. Older and more serious.
I shouldn’t be surprised. The last few weeks have been like an escalator, moving fast and taking me with it. I’ve done nothing but look around and go ‘oh no!’ but the pressure and new experiences must have changed me all the same. Shaped me into someone I couldn’t have been if I’d stayed in my stepmom’s house.
My palms itch as I enter the dining room and find not only Eli, but Doc and Bobby sitting at the table, deep in conversation. There are laptops and glasses of red wine in front of each of them and I hover in the doorway feeling silly. “Hi, everyone.”
Eli gets to his feet. “January. You’re ready.”
Bobby and Doc stand too. The way they’re looking at me makes me feel like I did my makeup properly.
“You look incredible,” Bobby says.
“Yeah, thirteen out of ten.” Doc jerks his head at Eli. “You sure you wanna go out with this clown?”
“Enough,” Eli says. “This is my time with January. Leave.”
I expect them to refuse, but Doc swaggers out of the room without so much as a snarky comment—although he does wink at me. Bobby lingers over the table packing his laptop into a leather bag. Looking at it, a thought occurs to me. “Bobby, could I maybe borrow a computer?”
Bobby glances at Eli and a look passes between them.
“I won’t talk to anyone if you guys don’t want me to,” I add quickly. “I just want to check my bank account and organize things now I’m… Now things have changed.”
“Sure,” Bobby says carefully. “I’ll have a laptop on your bed when you get home.”
“Great.”
He flashes me a smile. “We’re going on a date tomorrow by the way. Nice and early. You’ll have to wear sneakers and jeans.”
“Oh.” I glance at Eli, who smiles benignly. “You’re not worried are you, bella? I told you we intend to share you.”
The way he purrs the word ‘share’ makes my face heat. “I, um, whatever you think. I don’t mind.”
Eli gives me a slow look up and down. “I’m glad to hear it, but that’s tomorrow, bella. Right now, Bobby has to leave.”
I watch as my former math tutor crams the last of his things into his bag and exits without another word. Why are the guys all being so calm and respectful? And why will I need to wear sneakers on a date with Bobby? I don’t know if I have any. My entire East Wing wardrobe seems to be high heels and tiny dresses.
Eli extends a hand to me. He’s wearing a navy suit and a blindingly white shirt. It makes his amber eyes so intense it’s hard to look at them. I place my hand in his and tingles shoot up my arm. I decide whatever happens tonight, I’m going to pretend this isn’t a trick and Eli Morelli really does want me. That all of this is real.
Eli weaves his fingers through mine and steers me toward the entrance hall. “You look perfect, Miss Whitehall.”
“Thanks. Do you… do you pick out all the clothes in my room?”
He gives me a small smile. “No.”
“But you seem to like everything I wear, and it all fits me so well…?”
“That’s because I gave your measurements to some girls I know at Saks,” he says promptly. “They’re more than happy to spend my money, bella.”
“Oh.”
I don’t know why I’m so disappointed. I’m sure Eli doesn’t have time to pick out dresses. But if he did, it would seem like he was thinking of me. Now it just seems like he’s sleeping with the staff at Saks.
I see a liquid black limousine parked in the circular driveway. “Are we…?”
“Of course,” Eli says.
I move to the passenger door, but he puts a hand on my waist. “One moment, bella.”
I wait as the chauffeur gets out from the driver’s side, tips his hat to Eli, then opens the passenger door for us. As we settle into our seats, Eli catches my eye. “You think I’m too formal, don’t you, bella?”
“No,” I lie.
“It’s fine. You’re not thinking anything Doc hasn’t told me.” He gives me a smile that makes my insides twirl.
“Do you know what a hedonist is?” Eli asks.
“Not really.”
“It means I like luxurious things and I make no excuses for that. It’s what drew me to you.”
“Me?” I ask, confused. I’ve been described as a lot of things, but never ‘luxurious.’
“Yes.” Eli studies me. “Beauty is everywhere, bella, but it’s rare to discover something flawless. Something that grows even more fascinating the longer you’re in its presence.”
My mind whirls. Does he mean me or is he just being charming? Eli draws a bottle of wine from a nearby ice bucket. “Champagne?”
“Yes, please.”
I watch as he expertly peels off the foil and extracts the cork, pouring us glasses of sparkling wine. He hands me a delicate flute then taps his glass to mine. “To your freedom, bella.”
I sip the champagne. It fizzes in my throat like melted gold and as warmth spreads in my belly I feel something close to euphoria. Once upon a time, all I hoped was that Mr. Parker would be nice to me. Now, I’m in a limousine with the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, who I think just called me ‘flawless.’
I give Eli a goofy smile and to my surprise, he grins back. “It’s good to see you so happy, bella.”
“It’s amazing to be happy. Thank you for arranging my contract.”
Eli’s face hardens. “You’re welcome, but now isn’t the time to discuss things like that.”
My spine stiffens. “I’m sorry, Mr. Morelli.”
Eli instantly relaxes. “Thank you for saying sorry.”
It’s not a sexy sentence, but the way he’s looking at me, it’s like I’m taking my underwear off in front of him. My stomach gives a bright squiggle. “What should we talk about?”
Eli leans close and I smell his faint lavender cologne. “Your lipstick is bellissima.”
“Thanks. I remembered you like red.”
“I do.” He rubs a thumb gently across my lower lip and my skin tingles.
“You’ve made it impossible to kiss you,” he says in a low voice.
Eli wants to kiss me? I said ‘no sex,’ but kissing isn’t sex and if he leans in I don’t think I could stop myself from kissing him back.
Eli takes the champagne flute from my hand and sets it aside, his amber eyes gleaming. “We shouldn’t, bella.”
“I know.”
“We really… really shouldn’t.”
I don’t know what comes over me, but I part my lips, practically begging him to make a move. Then he does.
Eli Morelli kisses like it’s art. His tongue slides into my mouth, and I feel luxurious. Like all the champagne and silk dresses and pretty suits aren’t as fancy as the way he’s kissing me. My breathing goes shallow and my nipples go hard and soon I’m arching my body against his, practically begging for more but all he does is kiss me. And when I’m so turned on I’m panting, the limousine pulls to a stop and Eli backs away. “We’re here, bella.”
I almost scream. “Seriously?”
“Yes.” He gives a shocked laugh. “Bella… your face.”
I raise a hand to my chin. “Is my lipstick ruined?”
I can already tell it is. It’s all over Eli. Not only his mouth but his chin and cheeks. There’s even some on his neck.
“Oh no!” I lean forward and try to wipe it away, but he gently restrains me. “Don’t worry, I came prepared.”
He pulls a pack of baby wipes from a side cabinet and proceeds to remove all the lipstick from his face while I sit feeling like a complete dork. When he’s done, he pulls out his phone and checks his reflection. “Perfect, now do you want to see yourself?”
“No,” I say, but he shows me anyway. My face is covered in stains and my makeup is ruined. I press a palm to my cheek. “Wherever we are, I can’t go inside!”
“Of course, you can.” Eli holds out the wipes. “First, use these.”
Miserable, I scrub away the red stains and remove the last of my lipstick.
“Now, you use this.” Eli pulls a pale pink something from the cabinet. A handbag with interlocking C’s on the front.
I gasp. “Is that…?”
“It might be.” He hands me the baby pink Chanel bag. “For you, bella.”
I stroke the soft leather. It feels like a cloud. “Eli, thank you!”
“Open it.”
Inside the bag is a tube of Urban Decay lipstick. It’s redder than the one I had on, but it’ll work. I fake glare at him. “You tricked me into ruining my makeup just to save the day, didn’t you?”
“Perhaps. But you look just as beautiful barefaced, bella.” Eli holds up his phone, the camera focused on me. “Here is your magic mirror.”
I reapply my lipstick and pretend not to notice the way Eli stares hungrily at me, pretend it doesn’t make heat pool between my legs. When my lips are as glossy as they were before, I put the gold cap back on the tube. “Are we still going on our date?”
My voice comes out all silky, as though I’m teasing Eli. His dark brows shoot up and for a second, I think he’s going to pull me into his arms and kiss me again. Instead, he pushes open the limo door. “You’re too tempting for your own good, Miss Whitehall. Hold on to your new purse and let’s go.”
I step out of the limo and see a tiny restaurant dotted with fairy lights. The wide windows show a dozen beautiful people eating pasta in a warmly lit interior. The sight makes my insides shift. This place could have been pulled directly from my childhood fantasies of owning a restaurant.
Eli slides a hand around my waist. “Do you know where we are?”
I shake my head.
“I thought maybe you would, being such a gourmand. This is Argyle.”
I gasp. “My stepmom came here!”
Eli scowls. “Your stepmother is another topic we will avoid this evening.”
I nod. I don’t want to talk about her either.
A young host almost chokes at the sight of Eli. “Mr. Morelli, welcome, welcome. Please follow me to your table.”
He leads us to the dining room where the scent of roasting pork makes my mouth water. The wooden tables are even more cramped from inside the restaurant. Is it difficult for big people to eat without hitting everyone around them with their elbows? Adriano couldn’t do it. But to my surprise, we don’t stop at one of the tiny tables, but continue up a flight of narrow stairs into a separate room. It’s almost as large as the dining hall below but there’s just one table, laid for two.
Eli removes his jacket as the host pulls out my chair. I hover awkwardly, unsure what’s happening. Just beyond the room is a balcony covered in winding green vines and white roses, like something out of Romeo and Juliet.
“Sit, January,” Eli urges. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Um, sure?”
I take my chair as Eli sits across from me and turns to the waiter. “Please bring a bottle of Sangiovese Fresco.”
“Very good, Mr. Morelli.”
The host rushes away and Eli’s gaze finds mine. “Alone again, bella.”
With his dark hair shining in the candlelight, he reminds me of a panther, sleek and pretty. He looks like you could curl up into his side and cuddle him, but if you did, he’d eat you. I need to remember that.
“How come there’s no one else here?” I ask.
“Because I reserved a private dining room, bella.”
I’ve never eaten in a private dining room. “Are we…? Do we order downstairs? Is there a menu?”
“No. At Argyle, you eat what they bring you. You don’t have to do anything but sit and look pretty.”
The host returns with the bottle of wine and a wooden board of warm bread and salted butter. He unfolds my napkin and lays it across my lap, and I feel Eli watching him closely. What would he do if the host touched my legs? Slap him? Demand that I come and sit in his lap instead? It seems like something he would do.
I think of the time he made me give him a blow job while he smoked a cigar, and the memory makes me shiver. After all I’ve been through, I shouldn’t be so attracted to danger and meanness, but it’s all I can think about. To distract myself, I sip my wine. It’s rich and dark and perfectly suited to the evening.
“Now,” Eli says when the host leaves again. “Tell me about your friends.”
I frown. “What friends?”
“Your bridesmaids, your cousins, your friends from school. Any of them. All of them.”
“W-why?”
“Because I’m interested.” He gestures at me with his wineglass. “Go on, bella.”
“Um, my sister Margot and I have always been pretty close…?”
Eli smiles encouragingly.
“…We’re, um, different though. She got expelled from school when she was sixteen and I was so jealous because I couldn’t imagine ever doing something that bad.”
“And what did she do?”
I’m still telling the story of Margot and the field hockey captain when the first course arrives. A charred leek soup dotted with garnet pomegranate oil and stracciatella. I try to eat and talk without spilling the delicate soup on myself.
“…so, Margot bribed the science teacher not to tell anyone what she was doing and she had to keep buying him weed until she graduated,” I finish.
Eli laughs. “Margot sounds like my sister. A born troublemaker.”
“A little bit,” I say defensively. “But she’s very sweet.”
“Well, she is your sister. So, who’s next? What about your bridesmaids? What are they like?”
“Are you sure you—”
“I won’t reassure you again,” Eli says sharply. “I’m asking because I want to know.”
And so, I tell him about Giuseppina, Darcy, and Quinn. I keep to the most interesting details, like how Darcy’s dad is a music producer and Giuseppina once catfished an NYPD detective. As I’m talking, the host returns with plates of swordfish, sprinkled with saffron and mandarin segments.
Eli refills my wine, and urges me to keep talking. By the time I’m done telling him about my cousins, the host has served handmade garganelli with roasted pancetta and aged parmigiano.
“I feel bad,” I say to Eli. “I’ve been talking so much, I don’t think I’ve been appreciating the food.”
He smiles. “Then why don’t I tell you about my family for this course, bella?”
“Sure,” I say a little nervous. The only thing I know about Eli’s family is that his mom and dad had an ugly separation. But Eli doesn’t talk about divorce. Instead he tells me about his childhood running wild in Naples, about his Nonno and Zias and Zios and cousins. I’m free to listen and laugh and enjoy my meal and by the time dessert comes, Georgia peaches soaked in dark rum, I’m tipsy on wine and because Eli and I are actually having fun.
As I lick chocolate semifreddo from my spoon, I think of Doc and Bobby and Adriano. As much as I’m enjoying myself, I want everyone to be here, laughing and telling jokes the way we did when I made brodo. Will we ever all go on a date? Or is that too weird, even for Velvet House?
“Miss Whitehall?”
I look up to see Eli refilling my wine. “Yes?”
“You interest me.”
I laugh, but Eli doesn’t elaborate. Doesn’t even smile. “And as you’re the most interesting woman I’ve ever met, I’d like to reiterate my desire to bring you into my household and keep you for myself and my brothers.”
I feel a flush creep across my cheeks. “Like a mistress for all of you?”
Eli’s gaze goes cold. “Like a wife to all of us.”
The suggestion, so naked, almost sucks the air from my lungs. For a moment I can almost picture it—the five of us around one table, travelling in one car, sharing Christmases and retiring to the same bedroom to…
But the idea of what might come next snaps me to reality. I try to smile at Eli. “I, um, thought being a Whitehall wasn’t impressive enough for your family? Aren’t I like… beneath you?”
“I’ve changed my mind,” Eli says like it’s set in stone.
“But why?”
“I don’t need to know why. When I discovered you had been taken from the hospital, I knew. You’re a magnificent woman and there is no one for me but you now. And I know the others feel the same way.”
I look but there’s no trace of humor in his eyes. His expression is intense and so lovely, I have to turn away. “Maybe that’s just… fear talking?”
Eli sighs, steepling his long fingers together. “I’m not used to explaining myself, bella. But I will try for you. You’re beautiful, exceptionally beautiful, and I want to be the first man to slide my cock into your pristine cunt…”
I choke on my wine but Eli carries on. “…but more than that, I like the way you think. The day I released you from your cage, you went into my kitchen and cleaned my house and cooked for my men. I don’t understand why you did it, but it fascinated me. I’m not someone who sees a lot of new things, but you… you are new to me.”
He looks at me as though there’s an obvious response to this that I’m not giving him. “I… appreciate that you can say ‘I released you from your cage’ without it sounding weird…?” I venture.
Eli laughs. “That’s something else. You’re quite funny, bella.”
I duck my head.
“Don’t be embarrassed. Surely, you’ve been told this before?”
“Sometimes. I guess Margot and my friends laughed at things I said, but that was mostly because they didn’t make sense.”
“Hmm.” Eli sets his jaw. It makes him look like a forbidding TV show dad and that realization makes another hot squirm go through me.
Our host returns with a tray of espresso and sugar-dusted biscotti. He sets a balloon-sized glass of brandy in front of Eli. “Would you like anything else, Mr. Morelli?”
“No, thank you,” Eli says, his eyes on me. “We would like to be alone now, Miguel.”
“Of course, sir.”
The host glances at me as he backs away and I notice he’s red in the face. “He must be tired from climbing the stairs all night,” I say.
Eli grins. “I promise I make it worthwhile in tips, bella.”
He picks up his brandy and swirls it into a golden whirlpool. The liquid is the exact same color as his eyes. “Come here, Miss Whitehall.”
“You mean… sit in your lap?”
He nods.
It might be awkward, sitting on his knee like a child, but after all the talking and laughing, the idea seems nice. I select a biscotti and walk to Eli. He pulls me into him, tucking me close. “Ecco mia brava bambina.” That’s my good girl.
I sit in his lap and nibble my biscotti. His body is warm at my back. Warm and powerfully hard. Beneath his suit, he’s as muscular as any of the others. I imagine him being bossed around by a gargantuan personal trainer and the thought makes me smile.
Eli strokes my cheek. “There’s that smile again. Are you enjoying yourself?”
I open my mouth to say yes and out of nowhere comes the blank, freckled face of Emilia. Who am I to be having fun with a guy while she’s trapped with Mr. Parker? The biscotti turns to dust in my mouth.
“What is it, bella?”
“I am having a good time, but it’s hard to enjoy myself when I remember my Zia and Emilia and Adriano and everything else.”
“I see.”
“Sorry.”
“Do not apologize for being a sweet girl.” Eli presses his nose into the side of my neck. “There is a zen poem. It goes, ‘the clouds above us join and separate, the breeze in the courtyard leaves and returns. Life is like that, so why not relax? Who can stop us from celebrating?’”
I think on the words Eli just recited. Zia Teresa wouldn’t have said anything like that, but she lived her life that way. Easily. Aware the future could be scary, but never afraid of it. “That’s pretty.”
“It’s true,” Eli says, kissing my cheek. “And now you are smiling. I’ve cured you with my wisdom.”
I laugh. “I’m just amazed to be on a date with a man who quotes poetry.”
“Tease me if you have to, but the poets are right. You can control little in the world, bella, and life isn’t fair. But you do not make it fairer by cursing your bad luck. You accept the present and enjoy as much as you can.”
“It’s that easy?”
“Sometimes.”
I purse my lips, considering. “I never expected you to be so open-minded. Of the four of you guys, you seem the most… strict, I guess.”
Eli’s hands slide down my waist. “That’s because I am. The things I can control, I take great pleasure in controlling. And I meant what I said to you when you were in my cage. You need a father figure.”
“Are you going to marry my stepmom?” I joke.
Eli’s full upper lip jerks to reveal a pointed tooth. “I told you not to speak of that whore.”
A chill goes down my spine. “Sorry.”
He turns my chin so I’m looking back at him. “You need a man to belong to. Someone to care for you and allow you to be the delightfully naïve woman you are. I believe that man is me. Do you agree?”
I stare into the warm depths of his eyes. Part of me does. The rest sees Doc, hovering in emerald water. ‘He’s cheated on every girlfriend he’s ever had.’
“I… I’m not sure,” I say. “I guess it’s hard to know what our long-term relationship would look like.”
“I’m not going to lie to you, January, I work a lot. And when I’m not working, I source gems for my mother’s family and do Muay Thai several times a week…”
That explains the abs.
“…so, I would be away from you for most of the working day, but I would eat dinner with you every night and take you to shows and parties on weekends and you would come with me if I traveled anywhere. And when it’s time for us to have children, I’ll take a sabbatical to help you care for them.”
Cold, heartless Eli Morelli staying at home and helping with the babies? The idea kind of blows my mind. He stares at me, waiting for my response.
“What about the mistress thing?” I blurt. “I don’t think I could… I mean I definitely don’t want to share, even if that makes me a hypocrite.”
“That is not an issue,” Eli says calmly. “You alone interest me, bella. There will be no one else.”
“But what about your parents’ marriage and the whole ‘let’s be realistic’ thing?’”
“I think it’s realistic to say I’ll turn you over my knee and spank you every night until I’m dead.”
I smile but refuse to be side-tracked. “Doc, um, says you’ve cheated on all your girlfriends…?”
Eli stiffens. “He what?”
“Please don’t be angry.”
“That fucking cafone.” Eli lets out a hard breath. “Tell me, bella, do you think he had an ulterior motive in talking to you about my relationships?”
“I know he’s not… honorable—”
“Honorable? He’d spit on an old woman for cigarettes. He’s bitter about your escape and he wants your virginity for himself so he’s corrupting your perception of me. I should slap him in his disrespectful face.”
I don’t say anything. Doc telling me about Eli’s relationship history doesn’t change the fact that it might be true.
“Bella,” Eli cups my cheek. “Surely you don’t believe Domenico Valente’s lies?”
“I don’t know,” I say slowly. “You’ve all told me a lot of things. Now you’re telling me that you’re comfortable sharing me among the four of you and being exclusive… It’s just a lot to believe.”
He shifts beneath me. “I won’t lie and say I haven’t made mistakes in the past, bella. When I was a young man, I did stupid things. But I’m not interested in childish relationships. When I say I will be faithful to you, I’m giving you my word.”
“I want to believe you, it’s just…”
He gives another belabored sigh. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
“Say what?”
“I was wrong. I didn’t believe it was possible to feel this way about someone, to be consumed by them the way I am consumed by you.” He touches my cheek. “You will be my everything, bella. My mistress, my wife, my whore, and my princess.”
My insides go all melty and I turn like a flower towards the sun, lifting my mouth to his.
Eli kisses me hard, his lips firm and insistent, and then he urges me to my feet. “Move everything from the dining table to the floor.”
“The floor?”
“Don’t question me, bella. Just do it.”
I bend to pick up the espresso glasses, my hands shaking with anticipation. Once the table is cleared, I look to Eli. He’s rolling up his shirt sleeves to reveal his muscular forearms. The sight of them almost makes me swoon.
“Good girl,” he says, fixing his right sleeve. “I understand you don’t know if you have romantic desires for me yet. That’s fine. I understand this is all new to you. That you’re still learning what you truly desire. I intend to make it easy for you. Lie on the table and lift your dress to your waist.”
I look at the staircase. I can hear people below, waiters and chefs shouting orders.
“No one is coming,” Eli says. “And even if they do, that’s not your concern. Your concern is pleasing me. Lie on the table.”
My heart pounding, I grip the wood and slide myself backward. Eli lays a hand on my thigh. “Good girl. Now pull up your dress.”
The thin material makes underwear impossible, but I’m sure Eli already knows that. I drag the dress up my legs, the air cool against my flushed skin.
Eli leans forward in his chair. “You’re already wet, bella. Your pussy is glistening for me.”
He strokes my calf, sending heat snaking between my legs. He isn’t going to lick me. A man like Elliot Morelli wouldn’t do that, surely… I watch as he picks up his brandy. “Hold still.”
I obey as he hovers the glass over me. “I want to drink from your cunt, bella. Are you going to let me?”
“I… Yes?”
A few droplets fall onto my aching lips, and I gasp as the liquid trickles into my pussy.
“Does that feel good?”
I nod. It’s a strange sensation, hot and cold at once, but it doesn’t hurt. In fact, it feels amazing, tingling and burning like the start of an orgasm. Is being with men always like this? None of my friends said so, but none of my friends have dated men like the ones at Velvet House.
“Bella,” Eli runs a finger up my inner thigh. “You’re close already, aren’t you?”
I am, I’m swollen and the alcohol has only heightened my desire. Eli pulls away and just not having him touching me, even for a few seconds, is painful.
“I don’t know what’s happened to me,” I pant. “Ever since I got away from Mr. P—from him… I’m so turned on all the time.”
Eli flashes me a smile. “Of course you are, sweet girl. When there’s death, we look for ways to feel alive.”
He licks a fingertip and strokes it through me, slowly, tauntingly. My inner muscles clench. I’ve thought about sex for years, but I’ve never wanted it as much as I do right now. Eli’s finger toys with my entrance, dipping in and out of me.
“Beg me to lick you.”
The sentence is so unexpected I almost bolt upright. I was shocked when Adriano went down on me, but I couldn’t imagine Eli doing it. He always seemed too… fancy. Too elegant. “I… What?”
Eli removes his finger and I whine.
“Greedy girl,” he says in his velvet voice. “You might be my princess, Miss Whitehall, but you’ll still serve me.” He touches me again, in that wet aching place. “Beg me to make you come with my tongue.”
“Please, Mr. Morelli?”
He slides his hands under my hips, bringing his angular face towards the cradle of my thighs. “Please, what?”
“Please, um…” I feel his breath on me, the heat of it tickling in ways that make my eyes roll back. “Please just…”
He kisses my inner thigh, and a moan hums in my throat. “Can you lick me? Please?”
Eli kisses my other thigh. “Ask again. And call me ‘Mr. Morelli.’”
My stomach tenses, sending ripples of pleasure to my pussy. “Please go down on me, Mr. Morelli?”
Eli makes a deep satisfied sound and lowers his mouth to me.
Eli’s tongue isn’t like any of the others. He doesn’t lap at my clit but licks the outsides delicately as a painter, developing a masterpiece. I arch my back into the table, lifting my hips towards him. He wraps his hands around my thighs but continues his slow, tender pace. His tongue feels as expensive as his taste in wine and clothes. He says he likes luxurious things and right now I feel luxurious. Another pretty object he gets to enjoy.
“Bella.” The sight of Eli’s face between my legs makes me vibrate.
“Yes?”
“You need to concentrate,” he says, dragging a lazy fingertip through my folds.
“Um, why?” I ask, horny spots bursting in front of my eyes.
“Because I’m not going to stop licking you until you come, and I have a feeling our host will return with more coffee.”
I shoot a panicky look at the stairway. “What!?”
Eli lowers his head and resumes his slow, torturous strokes. Fear zaps through me but as scared as I am of getting busted, the thrill only makes the sensations better. I close my eyes and imagine the nervous host bursting in, the shocked look on his face when he sees Eli going down on me on the table where he brought us such wonderful food. I imagine Eli parting my knees, pushing my thighs wide, to display me proudly, practically ordering the man to watch as he brings me to orgasm. And then the host becomes Bobby, Doc, and Adriano. All of them staring at me, waiting to take their turn…
I’m moaning, my fingers deep in Eli’s hair. I’m so close and it’s like every light in the room is extra bright. “Please, Eli! Please?”
I didn’t know what I was asking for, but he gives it to me. He raises his mouth to my clit, suckling me. Wave after wave of pleasure radiates through me and I shove my fist in my mouth to keep from screaming. I shake, rattling the table like an earthquake, and for a moment, everything is gone. Even me.
“Good girl,” Eli purrs. “I’m so proud of you.” He sits back in his chair and watches as I struggle to collect myself. Aftershocks thrum through my fingers as I pull my dress down. “That was…”
“Perfezione.” Perfection. “You’re very responsive, Miss Whitehall.”
I push loose strands of hair off my face. “That makes me sound slutty.”
“You are slutty,” he says matter-of-factly. “It will be interesting to see how many times I can finish you with my cock. You’re the kind of girl who gets more aroused with every orgasm.”
I avoid his gaze. I never thought I was that kind of girl. Yet his words make everything between my legs feel tight again. “Doesn’t that make me a whore?”
Quick as a flash, he slaps my leg. “Never say that again.”
“But—”
“Never. You’re a beautiful girl who does what she’s told. Someone who deserves the best this senseless world has to offer. What you do in bed for me or my brothers is beyond labels. Understood?”
I nod. He believes that, and somehow he makes it easy to believe him.
“Good. At times, Doc or I might call you filthy names while we’re fucking you, but that’s because it makes your pussy ache. Is that also understood?”
I nod again. He adjusts himself and I see the strain at the front of his suit pants. I touch a hand to my lips. “Eli… Mr. Morelli, can I… do something for you?”
For a second his face goes rigid with lust, then he gives a half smile. “No. Come with me.”
He leads me to the balcony where there’s a big, cozy chair with a blanket on it. The air outside is clean and cold, perfumed with the scent of white roses. Eli wraps the blanket around my shoulders and sits, pulling me onto his lap. I lie snuggled into his chest as he lights a cigar. We sit in silence as he puffs, breathing the sweetish smoke into the night sky.
Minutes pass and the heat of my orgasm flushes into a warm, even glow. Muscles I didn’t know were bunched, unknot, and my breathing slows. Eli holds me. Everything could be okay. Everything is okay. At least for now.
The clouds above us join and separate, the breeze in the courtyard leaves and returns…
Doc’s face appears in my mind. Should I be here with him instead? Or what about Bobby who gave me a chain for my St. Christopher and held me as I cried in the car? Or Adriano? The man who almost died trying to help me, the man I first begged to take my virginity. Guilt turns in me like a spiny fish. I can’t have feelings for all of them. That’s crazy. This must just be because I’m so inexperienced. If I’d been allowed to date and be normal at school, I wouldn’t be so overwhelmed. Now it feels like whatever I do, I’ll hurt people I’ve grown to know and understand and maybe even like…
Eli strokes my head. “That’s enough thinking for tonight, bella.”
His words send relief washing through me. It feels so good to obey sometimes. To just follow orders from someone strong enough to give them. A bird makes a noise nearby. And as I try to think what kind it could be, my eyes drift closed.
I don’t know when Eli shakes me awake but the moon is high and bright in the sky.
“Time to go, bella,” he says, kissing my forehead.
The whole limo ride home I debate what I’ll say if Eli asks me to his room but when we pull up at Velvet House, he untangles himself from me. “Go upstairs. I need to make some calls.”
My heart hits the floor. Is he going somewhere without me? Because I said I wouldn’t sleep with any of them?
Eli smiles. “I’m going to call some ugly old men to discuss business then go to bed alone, bella. Now run along, and don’t forget your new purse.”
I smile so hard my face hurts then I kiss Eli’s cheek and run inside, hugging my Chanel bag to my chest like it’s a puppy. I practically float upstairs to the East Wing replaying the whole evening in my mind. When I get to my room, I find a Mac laptop on my bed. Taped to the screen is a note.
Enjoy tonight, JJ. Tomorrow, it’s my turn. Meet me in the dining room at 10am.
Love, Bobby
Excitement curls inside me, as strong as anything I felt when I was with Eli.
“Oh no,” I tell my empty room. “What am I going to do?”
The room doesn’t answer.