Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Yep.
Confusing.
On the one hand, he frightens me, and on the other, he sends chills of pleasure through my body with a single brush of his fingers. In the short time since I was unlucky enough to cross his path, he touched me with the intention to harm and to please. He pressed a knife against my stomach and slid his finger inside me. I never know if he’s going to kill me or make me come. I’m always on my guard with my life being in the balance. And then I sleep like a baby in his bed because the men who want me dead can’t get to me there. No one can.
Well, except for Saverio.
There are more things he can take than my life. But he doesn’t. He just turned down a chance none of the men I’ve dated would’ve let slip through their fingers. He’s not interested in halfhearted efforts. No, he wants me to crave it. He wants me to desire him. If I touch him, he doesn’t want it to be out of obligation but because I’d go crazy if I don’t.
That’s the kind of man he is.
All or nothing.
Perplexing.
I simultaneously despise and like him. And yes, a part of me also desires him. A part of me wants what he denies me. I guess that part is human nature. At least, in my case, it is. I’ve always wanted what I couldn’t have. Security. Enough money not to worry about where tomorrow’s meal is going to come from. A big family. A mother who cares. A man and not a grown-up boy. A man who treats me like the most important woman in the world. As if I’m special. Valuable.
What happened earlier, when I touched Saverio so intimately, rushes back into my mind. My belly heats with the recollection. My palm still burns with the memory of his shape, the steely hardness of his thick length—a very impressive length that he claimed was only for me—and the broadness of the bulbous head.
Only for me.
What does that even mean?
Our relationship is for show. He doesn’t have to be faithful. He can screw anyone he likes as long as he’s discreet. We can show the world one thing and behave very differently in our private, hidden lives. Our love affair may be fake, but I can’t deny that my reaction to him is real. He muddles my reason and scrambles my thoughts with a single touch. I’ve always been a practical person, but with him, my body rules my mind. I’m even a little jealous of the women for whom his affection was real—the ones he pulled onto his lap and fed little treats and kisses.
We’re quiet for the rest of the way. After his rejection, I’m glad for the reprieve.
At home, he ushers me upstairs, but when I try to escape to the bathroom, he advances on me like a predator, backing me up until the bed stops my progress.
“Saverio?” I ask, uncertainty hooking its claws into me.
Have I been too fast in declaring him innocent of forcing me? He just told me he didn’t want my favors, yet he looks at me like a hungry, salivating beast.
“Lie down on your back,” he commands in a deep voice as he drops my wrap on the foot-end of the bed.
“Why?” I manage to ask through dry lips.
He takes my bag from my hand and chucks it on top of the wrap. “Why do you think?”
I try to sound brave, but I don’t quite pull it off. “You said you didn’t want me to.”
“I said I didn’t want it if you’re doing me a favor. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”
Bending backward, I put space between us. “Want to do what?”
“Make you feel good.”
“So you get to touch me, but the rules are different for me.”
“I get to put my hands on you because I want to do it. Now lie back for me, tesoro. You’ve been teasing me all night with that tight ass on my lap.”
“Whose fault is that? You made me sit there.”
“Because that’s where you belong when we’re out.” Flattening his palm between my breasts, he says, “Now, enough with the talking,” before giving a gentle shove.
I go down with a shriek, my body bouncing on the bed as my back hits the mattress.
Before I can ask what he’s doing, he kneels in front of me and hooks my ankles over his shoulders. The silk of the skirt glides down my legs and pools around my waist, exposing the green thong that came with the dress.
Giving me a heated look, he buries his head between my thighs. The objection dies on my tongue when he presses his lips on the throbbing spot at the top of my sex, kissing my clit through the lace. He clamps his teeth around the nub and teases me with a flick of his tongue.