Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Fuck, yeah,” I hear him hiss and before I can question myself, I increase the pressure, wanting my mark on his skin, blended in with his tattoos. Realistically, I know it will fade, but maybe he will see it and remember me even after I’m gone—at least for a few days.
As the doors slide together, closing us in, Antonio presses my back against the wall of the elevator. He takes my mouth with a hungry growl, his tongue thrusting between my lips like a weapon as if he’s come to conquer and destroy me. I think maybe he has. I cling to him because there’s nothing else I can do—nothing else I want to do. His tongue claims me, pillaging and claiming me in ways that I never knew were possible in a kiss. Admittedly, I’ve never been kissed unless you count a friend at the boarding school I was sent to. That kiss left me cold and would have never happened, except there were no boys in the school and Helen and I were in similar spots in life. Our fathers were not good men. We were never going to be allowed to have boyfriends. The expectation was that we would remain virgins until our fathers married us off. I text with her here and there still. That’s about as much as we can do since she lives on the other side of the country and isn’t allowed to travel—much like me. I was expecting to see her next month and I was looking forward to it. She’s supposed to marry Marco, and this was to be their first actual meeting. She got off luckier than I did. I’m marrying a man old enough to be my grandfather and she’s actually getting a chance with my brother.
I mean, my father and brothers are evil, but if I had to pick one that I at least like a little… it would be Marco. I know he’s tried to shield me from my father’s wrath. He’s also the one who insisted to my father that he show me the rooms under our home and the way out of them should I ever need to escape. My father rolled his eyes but didn’t really give a damn. He figured I wasn’t going to be home long enough for it to matter.
Marco told me if things became too scary, I needed to use these rooms to escape because they weren’t monitored by the security cameras—a fact we both thought was dumb, but no one questions my father. At the time, I thought he meant if we went on lockdown for war. Yet, lately when he looks at me, I get the distinct impression he meant I should use it to escape our father.
It worked. That’s part of the reason I’m here with Antonio now, my lungs burning as he continues to claim my mouth. His hand slides back between my legs as he finally allows me to take a breath. I miss his kiss but thankfully he’s pulled the strap of my dress down and begins nibbling on my neck. I tilt my head to allow him access as cool air hits my breast because the neckline had dipped down enough to expose it. Who am I? Me, a woman who has never been kissed by a man, suddenly has a man getting her off in a hotel bar and is now close to coming apart again—only this time in an elevator with… Wait, what?
I jerk out of my kiss-post orgasm-hungry-for-more haze to realize we are not in this elevator alone. There are others in here. Two in fact. The two men who were following us. Realistically, I know they’re probably Antonio’s bodyguards, but that doesn’t mean I want them here with us… not now.
I slap my hands against Antonio’s shoulders. “Stop,” I gasp, just as he sucks my nipple into his mouth. The word releases with a groan of pleasure as my head falls back, hitting the glass panels of the elevator.
In response, Antonio grunts, and moves his fingers against my clit, pinching it.
My entire body shivers, threatening to detonate. Really, how much pleasure can one person withstand? I shake my head, doing my best to force myself to be rational. “Antonio,” I groan as his tongue laps against my nipple. “We have to stop.”
“There’s no stopping, Lina. I’m not fucking stopping,” he rumbles. His voice is hoarse, overflowing with so much desire and hunger that I feel myself getting even wetter. I instinctively tighten my legs around him, trying to grind against his hand. “Christ, you’re soaked for me,” he groans, biting my nipple and making me cry out.
“Antonio. We’re…we’re n-n-not alone,” I tell him, trying one more time, even as my fingers dive into his hair, and I try to hold him to my breast.