Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
I linger a moment, simply standing there to let it sink in.
When did he do this? During the hours I napped and slept? He must’ve done most of it while I was still working at the firm. Too much time and thought went into creating the space to label it as nothing but a practical space for a baby. Saverio made no less effort than he would’ve made for his own child, and it moves me in ways that bring tears to my eyes.
“It needs a woman’s touch,” Saverio says behind me.
I give a start at the sound of his voice. I’ve been so absorbed in the room and my line of thinking that I didn’t hear him open the front door or come upstairs.
I take a moment to blink away the tears and get a hold of myself before I turn.
He wears a sheepish smile on his face, looking vulnerable even as he stands over six feet tall with his muscles bulging under his T-shirt and tracksuit pants. His dark hair is damp. The clean smell of soap on his skin tells me he showered at the gym.
“When did you do this?” I ask, emotions tightening my chest.
“In bits and pieces. I added something every day, hoping it may get you into the mood to do the same. My efforts didn’t turn out very well.” He scratches his head. “Obviously, I’m lousy at decorating. You’re welcome to change it.”
“No,” I say quickly. “It’s perfect.”
“Really?” He raises a brow. “You don’t want to get a professional interior decorator in?”
Not even for a moment. I want to wrap my arms around him and tell him how much the room means to me, but my emotions are still too raw after what happened last night, so I only say, “That won’t be necessary. Thank you for doing this.”
He motions at the dresser. “I started stocking up on diapers. I read online a newborn may need up to ten per day.”
How can my heart not melt? I smile. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”
Weaving his fingers through my hair at the back of my head, he drags me closer and tilts his face down to hold my eyes with an icy blue, smoldering gaze. “This doesn’t have to be difficult for you. You can be happy here, both you and the baby.” He implores me with that piercing stare. “Don’t resist me so hard. Let me in, and I’ll show you how good we can be together.”
I get lost in those pools that are the color of infinite blue, of never-ending skies and bottomless rainy days. I want to believe him, to trust that he’ll make it good and that it can be enough, but I’m not a romantic like Livy. If only I were, it would’ve been so much easier. Yet I’ve always been a practical girl, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t build a healthy, let alone a happy, family with a few mutual benefits and a sword hanging over your head. Having a piece of him is not enough. I deserve better. I want everything. I want the love and devotion as well as the respect and reverence.
He lowers his head and claims my lips, kissing me to fill my silence and the answer I can’t give him. As always, my body doesn’t hesitate to provide the right answer. It melts for him as he walks me backwards into the room while slipping a hand underneath the shirt to cup my breast with impatience.
“I like this look on you,” he says into the kiss, groaning as he presses me against the adjoining door that gives access to his bedroom. “You should always wear my clothes.”
He eats my lips savagely and continues to grope my breast even as he reaches around me and fumbles with the handle of the door. When the barrier gives behind me, he locks an arm around my waist, not only preventing me from stumbling but also from escaping. Not that I have any intention of going elsewhere when he’s wreaking havoc inside me and the only calm I can find will come after the storm he’ll submit me to.
He walks me into his bedroom and kicks the door to the nursery shut as if an innocent baby is already sleeping there. I get why he doesn’t want to spoil that perfectly pure space with our depravity and lust. What we share has never been pretty, but our ugly feels so good.
Our urgency is too big to make it to the bed. He pushes me against the nearest wall and lifts my arms above my head before pinning my wrists in place in one big hand. He slips the other beneath the hem of the shirt, finding me naked and wet underneath.
“You test a man’s willpower,” he says, biting off every word as if the syllables are glass he swallows.