Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 27737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
I smile brightly at him. "Then why not have your meeting first—-"
Giancarlo smiles back at me. "Or I can simply make the choice for you?"
Fuck.
"Your choice, signorina?"
My heart starts banging against my chest.
"I choose..."
And I hear myself say—-
"A reward."
His face turns expressionless as soon as the word slips past my lips, and my heart races all the more because I have no idea what to expect from here.
"Come here."
And idiot that I am, I actually find myself obeying the command.
One shaky step at a time.
Until I'm a girl standing in front of a boy—-
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My eyes close as he cups my face.
Everything about this moment feels like a fucking rom-com, and it should have me gagging right now, dammit.
But instead it's the opposite, and my toes actually curl as his breath fans my lips.
Fuuuuuuck.
I'm torn between fear and anticipation, dread and excitement.
I want to want this, but what if I end up hating it? And hating him?
Will he leave me if—-
"Stop thinking, dolcezza."
I don't even have a chance to answer, with his lips finally pressing against mine. It's the gentlest contact, feather-soft and tender, and my tears actually start stinging.
Because this, dammit...
This is everything I've dreamt of.
And when I think about how the dream's only begun, and there's more—-
Oh, so, so much more...
His lips nibble mine, gently and lazily, and I start feeling dizzy and impatient with need.
Please, oh, please.
I really feel like crying when his lips finally coax mine to part, and my lips open under his like a flower that needs his taste to bloom, and fuck, fuck, fuck.
Did I really fucking think something that fucking cheesy and fuck, fuck, fuck—-
His tongue enters my mouth, and it's over for me in that instant.
Something hot unfurls from the most secret part of me, and all I can do is whimper as my arms involuntarily wrap around his neck.
His hands slide down until they're cupping the cheeks of my bottom, and...aaaaaah.
This is the first time, the very first time that I feel Giancarlo is touching and holding me the way a man would hold a woman, and the thought alone has me moaning and feeling embarrassingly wet.
Please, oh please.
Sanity slips further away as he deepens his kiss, and his tongue explores my mouth in a way that leaves me delirious. A whimper escapes me as he squeezes my ass before pulling me closer. The distance between our bodies disappear, and my mind shuts down.
Oh, please, please, please.
I only realize what I'm silently begging for when he pulls away.
Nooooooo.
I didn't want the kiss to end, dammit.
But it already has.
"Do you know what I'd have done if you had chosen punishment?"
He takes a step back as he speaks, and I hate how the way I suddenly feel achingly empty at the loss of contact.
"Do you, Sarica?"
I shake my head.
"It's this."
"I don't get it."
Wickedness glints in his eyes, and I suddenly find his gorgeous face oh...so...punchable.
"I'm already doing it, Sarica."
What the hell does that mean?
"You're not doing—-"
OH.
FUCK.
ME.
Is he saying him not kissing and touching me is a punishment?
I see his lips curve in a smirk, and that fucking does it!
I charge toward him, but Giancarlo being Giancarlo is already expecting it, and he catches me mid-way, and everything backfires.
Fuuuuuck!
How did I end up with my back against the wall, my legs curled around his waist, and Giancarlo smiling down at me because we both know he's got me perfectly trapped like a brainless little rabbit?
"Fuck you!"
I can say it freely now, knowing what the punishment is.
"Fuck you—-"
"In time, Sarica. You'll fuck me. In time."
Three Years Ago
Punishment
ANOTHER YEAR HAS PASSED, and I've started to think Giancarlo Marchetti is nothing but a liar.
It's been a year, dammit.
One full year of wanting and hating him.
One full year of needing him and hating myself for feeling all of these things.
Twelve months of dreaming shameful dreams.
Twelve months of being punished with nothing.
Twelve fucking months, dammit.
I'm not even in my teens anymore.
I'm twenty fucking years old now, dammit.
Is that time ever going to happen? Or is seeing me seethe and suffer in silence his twisted idea of fun?
I want to kick and punch something. Do anything that will cause real damage. But because tonight's Christmas party is another one of those occasions I'm expected to behave—-
I march up to one of the private lounges overlooking the main deck. All I want is some privacy to regain control of my temper, but instead, I find myself tortured in a whole different way.
UGH.
It's Massimo and his on-and-off girlfriend making out, and I just want to gag.
I close the door behind me, and when I turn around, it's to see their baby sister smiling at me.
"Mas and Ynez?" she guesses.
"Unfortunately."
The two of us end up in one of the smaller lounges. It doesn't have a fully stocked minibar like the one Mas is in, but any room without Ynez in is a win in my book.