Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
“I can’t help myself.” I grab her throat and pull her back to me, then kiss her again.
She smacks my chest, but I don’t give in. I kiss her, licking the seam of her mouth. When she opens her lips to protest, I delve my tongue inside.
A shiver runs through her, and she stops attacking me. Her tongue tentatively strokes mine, her body going soft beneath my touch.
I want to yank away all this fucking fabric and get her down to nothing, then spread her legs and mount her on my cock. Fuck, what a sight that would be. But I can’t. Despite her sharp tongue, she’s innocent. She’s never even been kissed. I can tell. And fuck if that doesn’t stroke the animal part of my nature. She’s mine, completely mine.
Moving to her throat, I lick her soft skin, then delve lower, kissing her chest and the tops of her breasts where they surge from the dress.
“Hey!” She stiffens and pulls away.
Too fast. I’m moving too fast with this skittish angel.
I force myself to ease up on her, to let go of my tight hold on her waist. She wriggles in my lap, and my cock twitches.
She seems to feel it, because her eyes widen, and she glances down.
“It’s yours, angel. You can have it whenever you want.”
“What?” She scrambles off my lap. “I don’t want that,” she says breathily.
“Are you certain?”
“I-I know I don’t want that.” She gathers the fabric of her dress and piles it in front of her like a puffy fence.
“So if I slid my hand up your thigh to your cunt, I wouldn’t find it wet for me?” I lean closer to her.
Her breath catches. “You can’t talk to me like that.”
“I can’t talk about your slick cunt and how delicious it will be when I lick and suck it until you come?”
Her cheeks flame red as she gawks at me. “That’s never going to happen.”
“Never?” I smirk. “We’re already married, angel.”
“So you think you own me now?” She kicks her chin up. “You don’t.”
“I own you as much as you own me.”
“What?” She scoffs. “You never cared to so much as meet me before today, and now I’m supposed to fall all over myself because you kissed me and talked dirty to me in the back of a limo? I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not falling for any of it. You can keep your hands and your mouth to yourself from now on.”
“That’s the thing.” I let my gaze slide to her puffy lips, then lower to her breasts, and lower still, to the pile of silk in her lap. “I don’t think I can. Not with you, angel.”
“That’s too damn bad, isn’t it?” she snaps. “You’re part of the Larone family now. You got what you wanted. You can leave me out of it.”
Her smart mouth is like gasoline on the fire that’s burning me up from inside. I want to grab her again, to pin her beneath me and kiss her until she begs me to eat her cunt. But that’s not what my angel needs. From the tremor in her voice, I know she’s still afraid, but I also see more in her eyes. She’s turned on. Her body wants mine, and fuck it’s like torture to sit here without giving her what she wants. But she doesn’t know she wants it. Not yet. She’s too full of worry and fear.
“You’re right.” I sit back.
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“I said you’re right.”
She shakes her head as if I’m speaking a foreign language.
“I didn’t court you as I should have. My main goal was to become part of your family. You’re correct about that, too. I’m not the sort of man who sits around and waits for something to be handed to him. When I see what I want, I take it. Marrying into your family is the easiest way for me to rise in the ranks and eventually become head of the most powerful family in the city.”
“You’ll never be head of the Larone family. You aren’t blood.”
“I don’t want to be head of the Larone family, angel. I will be head of the Palermo family, my family. And we will rule this city in any way we please.”
“We?” She scrunches her nose.
“You’re my bride, are you not? An important piece of my family. The future mother of my children.”
Her face goes stoic, and she turns away. “I see.”
“I don’t think you do.” I take her hand.
“No.” She yanks her hand away. “I know I’m supposed to be your broodmare, having your babies while you whore around with mistresses. Trust me, my parents told me all my life that I’m only good for making heirs. You don’t have to say anything else.”
I can’t seem to say what I mean, which is new for me. I’ve never had a problem being understood. Then again, that understanding usually comes from someone who’s at the business end of my gun barrel.