Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Then I’d pump my hips, watching her pretty eyes grow wide and fill with tears the harder I take that fuck-me mouth.
“You’re going to give me children,” I tell her. “You’re mine and this is what I want, so that’s the end of it. It’s just a bonus that you want it too.”
She whimpers, touching the back of my hand, pressing down on it so that there’s more pressure on her face.
“You should scare me,” she whispers.
“Do I?”
“No,” she says, with conviction. “No, you don’t. But I need to know who you are, Kristian. You know about me. You know I grew up in an orphanage. You know my parents died when I was young. What about you?”
“How did your parents die?” I ask somberly.
“A car accident,” she murmurs. “But that’s not the point. What about you?”
I lean back, sit up straighter.
“I’m the leader of the biggest mafia family on the east coast,” I tell her.
I expect some form of shock to surge through her at this revelation, but instead, she nods shortly.
“Have you killed people?” she asks.
For once, I’m lost for words.
I feel something within me faltering.
She’s such a young, naive thing.
Will she be able to take this?
“Kristian,” she says passionately. “If we’re going to be a family one day, I think I deserve to know this.”
“I’ve killed people, yes,” I tell her. “But I’ve never killed women or children and I’ve never harmed anyone who didn’t deserve it.”
“What do you mean by deserve?”
“Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated?” I counter.
“Kris,” she says, her cheeks flaming, sitting forward so that the ample beauty of her breasts jiggles alluringly.
“Kris,” I smirk. “You’ve never called me that before.”
“Don’t change the subject.” She pouts as if begging to be spanked. “Please answer the question.”
“I’ve killed four men,” I tell her. “One assaulted my mother. Two were grooming children in an orphanage I own. The fourth tried to kill me. He jumped me one night and I defended myself.”
Anger flares in my voice and suddenly I’m gripping the steak knife so hard the hilt digs into my palm.
My heart thunders and for a crazy second, I think I’m going to upturn the table.
She leans forward and touches my hand, stroking her fingers along my knuckles.
“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” she murmurs.
“Never,” I growl. “You’re too important to me for that. I’ll always tell you the truth. This thing between us, Kimberly, we have to be careful with it. We can’t abuse it. We can never forget the loyalty we have for each other. Honesty—always.”
“Honesty,” she repeats, her voice all breathy, causing the base of my cock to ache, even when we’re not being sexual. “Always.”
“We make much of our money legitimately,” I tell her. “I’m working on the rest. My dream is to turn the Cameno Family into a legitimate corporation that doesn’t use violence or criminality. But it’s a long process. It’s hard goddamn work.”
“You can do it,” she says, stroking my hand softly.
I feel my vice grip on the steak knife relax until it clatters against the table.
“I’m so sorry that happened to your mom,” she murmurs.
I nod. “Scum, Kimberly—fucking scum. There’s nothing worse a man can do to a woman. Or maybe there is. Maybe some sicko could think of something worse. But, ah, dammit. I don’t know. It’s just evil.”
“I’ve sort of brought the mood down now, haven’t I?” she says.
I grin, wolfishly.
“Damn right you have,” I tease. “Let’s change the subject to something more lighthearted.”
“What did you have in mind?” she says, smiling right back.
“Corpse decomposition or plane crashes?”
She explodes into giggles, making a loud noise of pure joy, as if so much glee is bubbling up inside of her she can’t contain it.
She covers her mouth, killing the laughter.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I hate that noise,” she huffs.
“What noise, your laughter?”
“No, Kris, the honking.”
I shake my head.
“Jesus Christ, Kimberly. What did I tell you about self-esteem, eh? You sound happy. You sound like you were having a good time. You don’t have to be ashamed. In fact, every time you don’t make that noise when you laugh, you’re getting a spank.”
She pouts, tilting her head at me. “I guess I’m trapped then, huh?”
She knows I’m joking. I plan on laughing with my woman a lot, so I’d never stop spanking her if my threat was real.
Come to think of it, would that be such a bad thing?
“What are you going to do when you don’t have to work any longer?” I ask.
She pauses her steak-cutting, glancing up at me through her eyelashes.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re my woman, Kimberly,” I tell her. “You never have to work another day in your life.”
“Can I work?” she asks.
“Of course,” I say. “You can do any damn thing you want, short of flirting with, or touching, or even looking at another man in a way I don’t like.”