Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 110771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
“Marco.”
That’s it. That’s all she says. Her eyes are studying me. She’s trying to figure out what is going on in my head. I can’t let her do that. I don’t want my ugliness to taint her. Helena is special. She’s soft and sweet and I need to protect that—even from myself. Before she can question me further, I kiss her. I do it, quickly realizing that I’m even more fucked up than I realized, but I can keep it under control if Helena is with me. She holds herself stiffly, but I wear her down and her tongue soon tangles and wraps around mine. I swallow down her groan and take control of our kiss.
She’s liquid fire in my hands and I’m never going to get enough.
Never.
Chapter 13
Helena
I’m losing my mind and you can call me insane, but right now in the middle of the most elite restaurant in Athens, surrounded by a hundred people that are literally a who’s who list in Greece, I’m not sure I care.
That’s because Marco Stratakis is kissing me. He’s kissing me like he did that night two years ago in my room. He’s kissing me like he means it and most of all, he’s kissing me as if he doesn’t care where we’re at or how many people are watching. That in and of itself is a drug and I could become addicted to it. No one has ever made me feel like I’m important enough for them to ignore the world around us, but right now, that’s exactly what Marco is doing.
When we break apart, I can’t tell you how long we had been kissing. I know that my lungs are burning. My lips are bruised with the ferocity of his kiss and heat has filled my entire body, but my face feels as if it is on fire. My breathing is also coming in short gasps as if I had just run a marathon.
I lick my lips as I try to calm my brain and gather my senses. It could definitely be said that Marco had just kissed me senseless. Then again, anytime Marco gets around me, I tend to lose all ability to think at all.
Marco’s beautiful eyes are glowing down at me. It’s weird, I always thought they were a brown, but the flecks of blue I see are getting brighter and brighter and it’s breathtaking.
“As much as I like the way you kiss, I’m not sure this is the kind of place where we should be doing what we’re doing,” I whisper. My voice is filled with desire, and it has a deep smokiness to it that sounds foreign even to my own ears.
“Ask me if I give a fuck, baby,” he practically growls—although, his voice is quiet. As with everything when it comes to Marco, there is an edge to it, however. That edge sends vibrations of hunger careening through my body and settling between my legs.
Oh God…
“Still, we should probably endeavor to act with a little decorum,” I mutter, trying to sound like my nanny. It should be noted that my nanny always acted as if there was a stick permanently stuck up her ass and this impeded her ability to laugh, smile, or even be nice. Still, right now, I’m think it would be wise to remember a little bit of what she tried to teach me. I start to lift off of Marco’s lap and his hold on me tightens.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he purrs, looking as if he is daring me to disagree.
Uh oh… “Marco, maybe we—”
I stop talking as he deftly moves me so that my ass is moved to his other leg. Then he shifts so that he’s pouring a glass of wine. I should argue some more, but for obvious reasons, I’m finding I want the wine, so I don’t. Lord knows I need something to calm my nerves.
I start to lift my hand to take the wine, but he shakes his head. “I got this sweetheart.” My heart beats faster as he brings the glass closer and presses it against my lips. I feel funny inside, this nervousness enveloping my stomach, butterflies going crazy, my heart running away with me, and I feel completely lost. Still, I take a sip and pull away. He puts the glass down and stares down at me.
“You’re a very confusing man,” I breathe and it’s the God’s honest truth.
“Trust me, I know. Still, you will adapt.”
“Uh… I will?” This time my words come out as a squeak.
“We both will. Isn’t that what marriage is about, Helena?”
“I don’t really know. I’ve never been married.”
He grins with my words, and his grin is deadly because it has the ability to destroy every single brain cell I have.
“Neither have I, so I guess I’ll just have to feel my way through this.”