Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“And soon, you’ll know it just as surely as if I’d branded my name on you.” Another roll of his hips and sparks shot through my core.
“Giovanni—”
“But I don’t fuck unwilling women.”
Was I unwilling? The thought was a jolting one.
“And as eager as your sweet body is—” he tapped my temple— “this isn’t. Yet.”
“I will never be willing.”
The smile that pulled at his lips said he knew something I didn’t. “Liar. We both know that if I wanted to, I’d take that sweet virginity, right here on this counter, and you’d moan my name like a good girl.”
Oh my God. Venomous words fumbled through my mind but wouldn’t quite make it onto my lips. I couldn’t help but imagine Giovanni’s weight pinning me to the cool surface while he choked me and fucked me... “But I don’t just want your body. So...I’ve considered your deal.“
My mind stumbled for a minute before I realized what he meant. Hope rose within me. “You’re letting Renzo go?”
“No. But I will make you another deal.” He released my throat and swept my hair behind my ear. Blood trailed across my cheek, his gaze intent, studying me like I was something he coveted. Had anyone ever looked at me like that?
He brought his lips to my ear, the woodsy scent of him wrapping around me. “Only when you beg me, when that little pussy is dripping for my cock… then I’ll marry you.” The smile that graced his lips was every bit as devastating as I knew it would be. He was beautiful, and for a moment, I was seduced by the monster.
It took me a second to absorb his filthy words and realize he’d thrown me a lifeline, a get out of jail free card. “I will never beg you to take away my freedom. So, when I don’t and you won’t marry me, what then?” Would he let me go? The hope was so tentative.
The smirk that curled the edge of his lip was sinister. “Then I’ll give you back to your loving family.”
My stomach dropped as my hope withered and died. Anger lanced through me, hot and fast, and I shoved against his chest, though it did nothing. “So it’s you or the man who wants me dead?” Sergio, Matteo…it was one and the same. “That’s just coercion. I’ll never want to marry a man who bought me just so he could suck my uncle’s dick.”
His hand shot out, fingers knotting in my hair and wrenching my head back hard enough to send a sting over my scalp. “What did I just say, Emilia?” I glared at him as hot breath washed over my face. “I said I want that pussy dripping.”
So I couldn’t simply beg for my life. I had to want him.
I loathed him right then, but if he put his hand between my thighs, he’d find what he was looking for. And I was sure he knew it, knew that I was attracted to him, and he’d backed me into a corner I already had the means to get out of. I just had to beg. Just had to do what he wanted. What my uncle wanted. Only this was worse. At least if he forced me, I could still hold onto my pride, my dignity. He wished to strip me of it.
I flicked my eyes over him, allowing every trace of the disgust I felt to bleed into my expression. “That is never going to happen.”
His lips twitched, that infuriatingly sexy smirk cutting across his perfect face. “I can’t wait to have my ring on your finger and your blood on my cock, piccola.” He almost groaned the words before my palm met his cheek.
The clap of skin on skin startled me. I didn’t mean to do that, and I readied myself for the return blow. Instead, he just raked his teeth over his bottom lip and grabbed my hand.
“Keep hurting me, princess.” He pressed it against his ribs, the dark material of his shirt soaked through. “It makes me so fucking hard.”
I tried to pull away my hand, but he wouldn’t let me, imprisoning it beneath his own. “You’re sick.”
“Yes, I am. But just remember, I could chain you to my bed and take what I want from you, Emilia.” His forehead fell to mine, slick fingers twining with my own against his side as though we were somehow bound in a blood vow. “And you would love every second. Then you really would be my good little slave.”
As if sensing I had reached my limit, he released me and stepped back. I scrambled off the counter before stumbling away from him. Then practically ran to my room, not because I was scared, but because part of me wanted what he was offering, something so utterly primal that it went beyond reason.