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)
"If he touches her, he's dead. Fuck business." It's a promise, not a threat. I saw the fear and hopelessness in her eyes. She'd rather die than live a single second under his control. She wasn't being melodramatic when she asked for me to promise to kill her if I couldn't protect her. She meant it.
She'd rather die than live under his control.
I won't allow that. I can't. Not when I need her so fucking badly.
"Tell Rafe I want a sit-down."
Mattia nods, striding toward the door. "I'll let him know."
"You didn't run."
Genesis glances up at me from the kitchen table, her expression wary. "Run where, Gabriel? I've already got one powerful man hunting me."
"You think I'm like him." I stride into the kitchen, not sure how I feel about that. Not entirely sure she's wrong. In all the ways that count, I am like Santorum. Only I've never pretended to be something I'm not. I don't hide behind a badge and pretend it makes what I do somehow less morally reprehensible. I'm self-aware enough to know exactly how fucked-up I am.
I lie, cheat, steal…kill just like him. I'm mafioso. People fear us because we've instilled that fear in them. I may not like it, but it's who I am anyway. I've never done a damn thing to change it. I chafe against my bonds, but I chose them. I could have walked away like Nico. Instead, I kneeled and took the vow.
I regret it less in this moment than I ever have. Because of her. Because she doesn't need some pillar of society guarding her back. She needs a motherfucker like me, one willing to wage a war to keep her safe. One capable of murder.
I've got the blood staining my hands to prove my commitment to her cause. I'll kill for her. Die for her if that's what it takes. And all I'm taking in return is her soul.
"No," she whispers, swallowing hard. "I don't think you're like him. I'm not afraid of you."
"Good." I stop beside her chair, hooking my foot around the wooden leg to drag it around to face me. It screeches against the tile floor, eliciting a shiver from her. She isn't afraid of me though. I've got her number now. I hook my finger beneath her chin, tipping her head back until her eyes meet mine. "What you give to me, you give to me freely, piccola fiamma. But I want everything."
"E-everything?" Her tongue swipes along her bottom lip. Semen drips into my boxers.
"Everything. Down to your fucking soul."
"What if I don't want to give it?"
I smile, one that comes from some place deep within. That place that hasn't seen the light in far too fucking long. "You will," I purr, brushing my thumb along her bottom lip. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll beg to give it to me, tesoro."
Her breath trembles against my skin, her eyes locked on me as if she can't look away. She whimpers low in her throat. "Gabriel, please."
"You want me, Genesis. You're fucking dying to feel me between your legs, fucking you raw, aren't you?"
She shakes her head, refusing to give in. Refusing to give me the truth. I should take my victory for now instead of pushing for more…but I don't. I can't. The fact that some other motherfucker in this world thinks he has some claim on her is fucking with my head. What Mattia revealed in my office is fucking with my head. She's in front of me, looking like she does, smelling like she does, and I can't back off.
I want to break her. I want to consume her. I want her raw and exposed, unable to hide from me. I don't just want her body. I want her mind and every secret thought she hides behind those emerald eyes.
I want her as wild as I am, as feral with need.
And I'm bastard enough to push until I get there.
I wrap one hand around her throat, leaning down to take her lips. She doesn't tell me no. She doesn't fight or resist me at all. She sobs against my lips, the sound full of carnal need and wicked delight. As if she's been dying to feel me there again, sipping from her lips.
Her nails embed themselves in my shoulders. Without my leather jacket between us, I feel them in my flesh this time. The beast inside me roars in triumph, in desire.
I sweep my arm out, sending everything on the tabletop crashing to the floor around us. I'll make it up to her later. I'll cook for her this time, something edible instead of whatever she cooked to torture me with.
I drag her into my arms and drop her on top of the table.
She cries out, clawing at my shirt as if she's trying to get it off my body.