DELUCA

FIFTEEN

When they stepped into the apartment, Eleanor expected Francesco's hands to be all over her. But one could only imagine his shock when he turned to her, "Would you like a drink?"

He hadn't given her a chance to answer before he turned away and walked into the kitchen. Eleanor hid he disappointment and followed him, murmuring in agreeance as they walked into the kitchen.

Francesco walked over to the bar installed into the wall of the kitchen, "Dark or light?"

Eleanor wanted to throw the mug sitting on the counter from that morning at the back of his oblivious head. "Surprise me, I am not picky."

Francesco smirked pulling out the tools he would need to make an actual cocktail. It was worse than him pulling out a bottle of wine that could quickly be poured. He was stalling, for what Eleanor didn't know why.

Playing along with his nonchalant mood Eleanor reached to satisfy her curiosity instead. "You didn't tell me that you were the host of the gala."

"I wasn't a host; I was a sponsor." Francesco said, focusing on the bottles.

"Still, I didn't know you were into art or charity." Eleanor's words sounded accusatory, though it wasn't her intention, "But you mentioned your family's reputation."

"It is our family now; you are a Deluca." Francesco corrected. Again, Eleanor wanted to throw something at him for fussing with semantics when she just wanted a straight answer.

Sensing this, Francesco continued; "My father was a stupid man who made stupid choices. Now I spend my life making up for it while he rests in hell."

When Eleanor gasped at his words he continued, "Please, don't feel sorry for them. Over time you will learn this family is anything but sentimental."

Eleanor couldn't believe that. She had seen them all at the wedding and she had never felt a stronger sense of loyalty in her life before that moment.

She could only assume that there were complicated family feuds that she certainly wouldn't untangle in just one night.

Eleanor watched silently as Francesco focused on making her a cocktail that would have rivaled something she would've been served at a high-end restaurant.

"So, art and bartending, I think I am learning more and more about you by the minute." Eleanor teased.

Francesco paused for a moment before handing her an ice-cold glass filled with amber liquid and the rind of an orange.

"You have a lifetime of things to learn about me." Francesco noted.

"Oh yeah," Eleanor said with feigned dejection. She waved her ringed finger in the air, "I forgot it is 'til death do us part."

No matter how many times she reminded herself or how many times she tried to wake herself, Eleanor was still slowly absorbing that she was now married. Never would she have added this to her bingo cards for that year.

Last December she recalled wanting to focus on getting a job with her degree in hopes she could help her family better. Beyond that, Eleanor had no plans or expectations.

It was likely that thinking that doomed her. She hadn't imagined just days after she started working on the library, she would meet Giuseppe. She didn't know Giuseppe would be so talkative and slowly become her actual friend.

Even then it had already been enough, but when Giuseppe made his offer, she had never seen herself so much as considering the idea. She had laughed it off the first moment he had mentioned it and hadn't even addressed the fact that he had mentioned it for three weeks.

Now she was sitting in a dress that cost her salary in another country, married. Sitting across from one of the most attractive men she had ever seen in person.

Despite the complete change, Eleanor found herself more intrigued than regretful, but that could've all been simply due to who she had married.

Francesco drew her attention like a moth to a flame. She could feel the moment he stepped into a room. His quiet energy had always been the most dominating in the room.

And then when it was just, she and him, like now, he was completely different. Eager to show off his skills, skills Eleanor could only assume he couldn't share in his day-to-day life.

"And for better or for worse." Francesco held his glass up and Eleanor clinked her glass to his before taking a sip.

To her surprise, the drink was sweet and not as bitter as she expected. Just as she thought, this was something else he was good at.

"Thoughts?" Francesco inquired.

"Yes, why were you so flirtatious at the Gala only to come home and be more interested in playing bartender than this dress?"

Francesco choked on his sip before setting his own drink down, "I meant about the drink."

Eleanor gave him a stern look, showing she was no longer interested in his game of playing cat and mouse. Francesco sighed before slipping off his suit jacket.

His action without words had caused Eleanor's pulse to quicken in anticipation as she watched him. After setting his jacket on the counter next to her, Francesco stepped closer.

"I was trying to recreate a moment."

"A moment?" Eleanor repeated.

It was as though her reminder flipped a switch in him.

"Si, do you recall the last time we were in the kitchen like this?" Francesco inquired.

Of course, she remembered. It was something she couldn't stop playing in her head every night before she had gone to sleep. He was fined tuned to her body and she could feel the ache reminding her.

He stepped closer to Eleanor who was sitting on the leather stool. At this point, he was as close as he could be without touching her.

Francesco smelled of oaky cologne. His body heat, as always radiated on her exposed skin causing goosebumps to appear over her skin.

Every fiber in her being was anticipating his touch.

Eleanor nodded in response, not trusting her voice. In this situation, she was supposed to have the control. At least that is what she attempted to tell herself.

Francesco touched her thigh, shocking Eleanor with just how hot his hands were. It could've of course, just been her though.

"Did you pick this dress out or Norma?" Francesco inquired.

As he spoke his hand slowly inched up her thigh until it met her hip.

"N-Norma." Eleanor just about stuttered to get the words out.

His hand traveled to her backside before he paused.

It would have seemed that Francesco realized she wasn't wearing any underwear. He looked at Eleanor in confusion and she couldn't help but laugh, "She said underwear would ruin this dress."

That was certainly Francesco's last straw. Eleanor still had a smile on her face when Francesco's lips descended on her.

Gone was the patient man she had met before. He just about attempted to devour her right there in the kitchen and Eleanor would let him.

Every movement of his tongue made Eleanor move in tune, wanted to show him that she could keep up with him.

Above all she hadn't wanted him to pull away like he was known to have in the past. She wanted him to feel just as crazy as he made her. Eleanor pulled him closer until he was standing in between her legs.

Francesco encouraged now, wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her into his arms. Eleanor paid no mind as he navigated through the dark living room toward the bedroom.

Eleanor was finally getting what she had wanted since the night in the kitchen. Francesco pushed the bedroom door open and deposited Eleanor onto the bed. The sudden change in position had caused the dress to slide up her thigh revealing her to him.

Eleanor could feel a blush cover her entire body as she bemoaned leaving the lights in the bedroom on instead of off before they had left.

But if she hadn't done so, she would've missed Francesco's eyes darkening as he watched her laying there. She wished she could read his mind. His eyes traveled slowly over her, making her uncomfortable for a moment.

Eager to break his spell, Eleanor sat up gripping the belt loop on his pants, hoping to free him. Francesco applied a tight grip to her wrist stopping her.

Eleanor looked at him in confusion, never having met a man to deny head. Francesco only shook his head and knelt, "Tonight is about you."

Eleanor tried her hardest to refrain from pouting, "Then give me what I want." Her voice was no better than sounding like a whine.

He chuckled before standing again. Francesco extended his hand to Eleanor, and she took it standing and taking the few steps from the bed as he requested. Soon he was sitting in the same spot as she, reversing their position from the kitchen.

Even with him sitting on the bed Eleanor barely encompassed his height while standing in front of him. Reaching behind her, he unfasted the clip that held the top of the dress together, immediately causing the fabric to fall away to the floor with little resistance.

Just like that Eleanor was naked in front of him. He observed her with painful detail, causing her to grow more and more self-conscious.

When she had attempted to conceal herself, Francesco took both of her hands in his, "Don't cover yourself from me." He commanded, and the same power he had with his subordinates was clear in his voice.

He released her hands before placing them on her waist, urging her to turn. Eleanor couldn't have blushed more as she slowly turned in front of Francesco. Once facing him again, his hands trailed up her hips until they stopped at her breast.

Her n*****s hardened at the expectation. Taking both hands, he encompassed her breasts letting his thumbs trail slowly over her budding n*****s.

Her legs became weak, and she wished she was still on the bed, not relying on herself to stand upright. Eleanor stumbled closer to him, using his shoulders to steady herself.

Francesco took this as an invitation, pulling one of her breasts to his mouth tenderly sucking. She couldn't help the bubbling moan in her throat, she felt every touch between her legs.

Francesco pulled one of her legs onto the bed, forcing her legs to open. Within moments he found her center and began mimicking the same motions with his tongue on her n*****s with his fingers inside of her.

The harmony of both sensations caused her legs to buckle. Sensing her struggle, Francesco pulled her into his lap until she was straddling him.

Eleanor pulled Francesco's to hers needing something else to focus on aside from his heavenly assault on her body. In this kiss, Francesco let Eleanor lead, as he was otherwise preoccupied.

Despite how amazing she felt at that moment, Eleanor couldn't help but want more. But the thought was soon fleeting she felt her release coming. Suddenly, that was the only thing she could focus on.

Francesco was the only thing she could focus on.

Eleanor gasped as the sensation washed over her, possibly even stronger than before. She buried her face into his shoulders as Francesco murmured words she couldn't understand in her ear.

He slowed his movements until Eleanor could control her muscle again. Francesco laid back causing Eleanor to collapse on his chest.

It took Eleanor a few moments to finally calm down. Once she had, she realized the evidence of only one of them being satisfied on her thigh, straining against Francesco's slacks.

Propping herself up, she looked down at him. He was, as expected, looking at her. The same look of desire they held moments before had still been there acting as further verification.

Yet, before Eleanor could take advantage of their position, there was a shrill ring from his pocket.

Ignoring it, Francesco pulled Eleanor in for a kiss, but the ringing still hadn't stopped. Eleanor pulled away realizing that they would have to either break the phone or put it on silent.

Francesco clenched his jaw and pulled the phone out of his pocket. Glancing at the screen he sighed.

"I have to take this."

Eleanor had to stop herself from saying 'Are you serious?' before rolling off of him. Collapsing to the pillow Eleanor could hardly remember the seconds soon after watching Francesco's retreating from the room.

Whatever the reason for the call, it better had been important.