Chapter 9 Craving the Dark

Carter Ricci

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I sit on the bed, my massive bulge tightening in my boxers. I'm so close to finally claiming her, to making her mine in ways she can't even understand yet. But fuck, I don't want to hurt her. She's fragile and I know that.

She steps back into the room, and my smirk falters momentarily as I take in her appearance. The white dress hugs her petite, fair frame perfectly, highlighting every curve and leaving very little to the imagination. My breath catches, and I quickly compose myself, leaning against the bed, trying to keep my thoughts focused.

"Come here."

She walks toward me with the towel in her hand.

I reach out and take the towel from her, my fingers brushing against hers as I gently remove it. I fold it neatly, tossing it onto a nearby chair without looking at it. My eyes are still on her. "Turn around."

She does, her back facing me, and I step closer, letting my hands rest on her waist. The soft fabric of the dress contrasts against her smooth skin and I notice the low dip of the dress at her back, exposing the delicate lace of the black lingerie she's wearing underneath.

"Fucking perfect," I murmur under my breath. My thumbs trace the bare skin of her lower back as I lean in closer. "Now, sit on the bed."

I watch her, a little taken aback by the way she moves, almost hesitant. She sits on the bed and I grab another towel and dry her hair. There's something about this moment that feels different, something that makes me want to take my time, to care for her in ways I've never done for anyone else.

"You're quiet," I comment, my hands gently working through her damp hair. She's tense, but I can tell she's not fighting me. I continue drying her hair slowly, feeling the softness of her strands slip through my fingers. I want her to relax, to trust me, even if she doesn't fully understand why I'm doing this.

I finish drying her hair, my fingers lingering in the strands one last time. A sharp knock at the door interrupts me. My men stand there, serious and alert. One of them clears his throat. "Boss, the meeting starts in ten minutes."

"Sarò lì tra cinque minuti," I reply sharply, my tone leaving no room for argument. (I'll be there in five minutes.) Once they leave, I turn back to her, dropping the towel on the bed, stepping back. "Stay here. Don't leave this room."

She looks at me, almost like she's not sure if she should be locked away or free. "Can't I explore the penthouse? I need something to get my mind off everything," she asks, her voice quiet, tentative.

I pause for a moment, considering. I know she's probably going stir-crazy being cooped up in this room. But there's a limit to what I can allow. "Fine," I say finally, with a little more leniency than I wanted to show. "But stick to the public areas only. Kitchen, living room, dining room. And don't open any locked doors."

She frowns slightly but nods, and I see the curiosity in her eyes. I know she doesn't understand why I'm restricting her, but there's no way I can explain it. Not yet.

I step closer to her, tilting her chin up with my finger, my eyes locking with hers. "I mean it, tesoro." My voice lowers, turning serious. "Some things are none of your business. Understand?"

Her eyes flicker with a mix of confusion and reluctance, but she nods.

I release her chin and put on my black suit, adjusting my jacket as I straighten it out. "I have to go," I say, my voice softening just a little. "Stay out of trouble."

As I walk toward the door, my mind drifts to the one thing I've been hiding, the parts of me she can never know. The man I truly am, the dark secrets buried deep. Too much is at stake now, too much she could never understand. I can't let her in. Not fully.

My little Rose, still so naive. She doesn't know how dangerous this world can be. Daddy keeps dirty little secrets, and he doesn't want his little princess finding out.

I chuckle darkly, stepping out of the room and heading toward the waiting limo.

My men stand at attention, Nikolai and the others, all greet me with respectful bows.

"Sire," they say in unison, their eyes lowered as I walk past them, my presence dominating the air like a storm about to break.

I climb into the backseat of the limo, the small bar within arm's reach. I pour myself a drink, savoring the taste of whiskey as the car starts moving, the driver taking me to the Ricci firm. My thoughts wander to Rose, as they always do. I need to keep it together. But god, I can't stop thinking about her. She's got me fucked in the head.

The limo pulls up outside the firm and I step out, walking through the entrance. My staff bows in respect as I pass, their gazes fixed on the floor. I couldn't care less about their attention. The only set of eyes I want on me is hers.

I stop in my tracks, the faint shuffle of heels behind me catching my attention. Cordelia, my business partner's wife, steps forward, her voice sultry as she greets me.

"Mr Ricci," she purrs, tilting her head, "how are you today?"

I nod, barely acknowledging her, my eyes fixed ahead.

"I was wondering about the deal with my husband," she continues, her tone playful but probing.

I glance at her briefly, my voice low and sharp. "Confidential."

She smiles, not backing down. "Surely, you can give me something? Just a hint?"

I give her a small, almost imperceptible shrug, letting the tension hang in the air. Without another word, I turn and stride past her, my coat brushing her arm as I make my way to the elevators.

The doors slide open and I step inside. I press the button for the hundredth floor. My mind shifts back to business, but Rose lingers at the edge of every thought, pulling at me like a silent storm.