Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
I was so riled up it didn’t take long before a wave of cold, then a flash of heat glided over my skin. “Marcello,” I moaned. “Oh, my God. Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
After I came, we sat in complete silence. He was a man of few words, and I liked that about him. There was an eery sense of calm that surrounded him. Marcello made me feel safe, like he would do anything to protect me.
He raised his hand to his mouth, laser-focused on me. Then he surprised me by licking my cum from his fingers. Holy shit. Who knew a simple action could be so fucking sexy.
I’d always wondered what it would be like with another man. Even when Luca didn’t want me, the overbearing psychopath never let me have a boyfriend. He could fuck whores and do whatever he wanted. Fuck him and his double standards. I was sick of mind games and bullshit.
“You taste so good,” Marcello said as he lowered his hand to the mattress. “Too fucking good. But you make every one of those kills worth it.”
Kills? I assumed he was referring to the night Luca came home covered in blood and fucked me. Did he kill men for me?
“I don’t have to marry him,” I said without thinking.
He shot up from the bed as if it were on fire like he couldn’t wait to get away from me. “Yes, you do.”
“Pops said I have to marry a Salvatore.” I fixed my clothes back into place and sat up. My eyes fell to his big dick, ready to poke a hole through his pants. “It doesn’t matter which one of you.”
“Yes, it does,” he shot back. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He checked his watch. “Time for bed, Alex. It’s getting late.”
I propped myself up on a stack of pillows and looked up at him. “Yes, warden.”
Glaring at me, he tugged on his tie. “You’re not my prisoner.”
“No?” I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Because it sure feels like it. You tell me when to eat, sleep, shower, and work. You never leave my side. Even in the middle of the night, you’re here.”
“For your protection,” he challenged. “And to calm you down after your nightmares.”
“I don’t need protection.”
“Yes. You. Do.”
A cold shiver rushed down my arms. “From what?”
He pressed his palm to the mattress, stealing my attention with his sad eyes. “Men who want to steal you from us.”
Fear rocked through me. “Who?”
“There will always be someone, Alex. You are a symbol in our world. The queen has a lot of power. Sometimes, even more than the king.”
“I don’t want to be a queen.”
“You’re a Wellington,” he said with anger in his tone. “American royalty. Accept it. This is your life. You think Luca spied on you because he’s sick?” He shook his head. “No, he was protecting you. We all were.”
“Why did Luca make me leave Devil’s Creek if I’m so important to him? To the Knights?”
He stared at me for a moment before he said, “Sometimes you have to sacrifice your queen to win the game.”
“What game?”
“We have a lot of enemies,” he confessed. “Which means you have a lot of enemies, too.” He swiped a curl away from my face, and his fingers brushed my cheek. “When I tell you to do something, it’s because I’m trying to protect you, even if it’s from yourself.”
“Okay,” I muttered, unable to take my eyes off him. “I need to take a bath before bed.”
Marcello helped me out of bed, and the air crackled between us, palpable energy that raced along my skin. He pulled away as if he realized things were getting too intense between us.
Too late, buddy.
We already crossed the line.
“I’ll fix your bath,” he said before he walked toward the ensuite bathroom.
I had accepted my fate a long time ago. The Devil had won. But as Marcello disappeared into the bathroom, I wondered if the wrong Devil had stolen a piece of my heart.
Long fingers slid down my arm, and I rolled onto my side, half asleep. I groaned, swatting a man’s hand away. Despite my protests, he lifted me from the bed, enfolding me in his arms. He stroked his fingers through my hair, so loving and gentle.
My mind drifted between sleep and consciousness. Shoes slapped against a hard surface, the sound drawing me out of my dream. We moved down a set of stairs with my head rested on his chest.
“Where are you taking me?” I slurred.
I tried to open my eyes, peel my head from his chest. But my head buzzed from a fierce migraine, my skull pounding so hard I couldn’t see straight. Had someone drugged me? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find the strength to fight back.
We walked through a door and into the darkness of the late summer night with nothing more than the moonlight to guide us. A car door opened, and several sets of footsteps follow us. He set me on a leather bench inside of an SUV and climbed in beside me. I could smell him, sense him, but I couldn’t see my captor.