Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Already, I'm weakening. Already, I'm falling under his spell.
How long until I bend? How long until I break entirely?
Four hours ago, I was certain I'd never beg this man for anything, let alone to feel his hands upon my body. I'm no longer certain. And I'm no longer sure if that bothers me.
"I feel your mind racing, piccola fiamma. Put it to rest for tonight and go to bed. You can don your armor and pick up your weapons again tomorrow," he murmurs, leaning forward to brush his mouth against mine in a soft, sweet kiss. He lingers for a brief moment before trailing his lips toward my ear. "I'll even let you pretend tonight that you aren't dripping wet for me."
"I'm not," I lie.
"No?" He glides his nose along the side of my throat, lulling me toward something vast and bright. "Then why can I smell how fucking sweet you are from here, tesoro?"
"W-wishful thinking."
He chuckles, placing his lips against the side of my throat. "No, Genesis. Wishful thinking is what I'll be doing when I've got my fist wrapped around my cock while I'm groaning your name tonight. I smell you. It's driving me fucking crazy knowing how wet you are right now."
I resist the urge to press my thighs together at the thought of him getting himself off to thoughts of me. That shouldn't be so sexy to me. But I want him to think about me. I hope it drives him crazy.
I press my mouth to his ear, courage welling up in a flood from deep within the pit of my stomach. "I won't be moaning your name when I'm touching myself tonight," I whisper before slipping off the table.
He growls and reaches for me, but I dart around him, smiling to myself.
"If you think of anyone but me, you sign his death warrant, piccola fiamma. You belong to me."
I don't tell him there is no one else and never has been. He'll figure it out eventually.
Chapter Six
Gabriel
"Don't fucking smile at her," I growl at Mattia, stepping between him and Genesis early the next morning. "Matter of fact, don't even look at her. Just mind your own goddamn business while you're here."
Mattia's amused grin grows, pissing me off. It's too fucking early for him to be on my last nerve. I barely slept all night. It's hard to get comfortable when your dick refuses to go down. Every time he started to give up, I'd remember that Genesis was asleep on the other side of the wall, and he'd bound right back to life.
I jerked him raw, thinking about slipping into her room. I imagined every filthy thing in the book…things that would infuriate her if she knew. Things that would horrify her too, I'm sure. I woke her with my tongue between her legs, licking up all the cream she made for me. Or with my dick down her throat. Or I took what I wanted, and she didn't wake at all. She slept through everything I did, moaning in her sleep.
If she doesn't cave soon, I'm going to lose my mind.
"You're incredibly rude, Gabriel."
I squeeze my eyes closed, groaning. "Tesoro, go back into the kitchen and let me deal with him."
"Are you just going to keep being rude to him?"
"Probably."
She huffs at me, stealing another piece of my heart. Nah. I think I've already given her the whole goddamn thing. She snatched it out of my chest and claimed it as hers the minute I set eyes on her. My heart beats for her now. My soul is hers to claim.
I didn't even think I had one until her. Turns out, maybe hell doesn't have as firm a grip on me as I thought. Not if one day with her can sway me to the light. I'll never be righteous. I'll never be worthy. But for her? I'll steal my way through the gates if that's what it takes.
"Go, piccola fiamma. I'll be in for breakfast shortly."
"Fine, but I hope you aren't planning on eating anything edible today," she says, her voice saccharine. "Because if I'm cooking, it won't be."
"You're letting her cook?" Mattia shoots me a surprised look.
"Letting me cook?" Genesis spins in my direction fast enough to give herself whiplash, squeaking in outrage. "Letting me cook? As in you know how to cook yourself?"
"I'm Italian, Genesis. Of course I know how to cook."
"I fed you spaghetti slop last night!" she cries, flinging her hands out. "And you ate it."
Merda. If I don't get her in my bed soon, I'm going to start destroying this city just to keep myself sane.
"Kitchen, tesoro," I growl, fighting like hell to keep my hands off her. "Now."
"You'll be lucky if I let you survive breakfast," she mutters, shooting me a death glare before she sails back into the kitchen, her copper hair flying out behind her.