Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Oh, that’s right. Down to business.”
I smiled and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her to me. “I’ll make it good for you.”
Her hands pressed against my chest. “Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for me? To know my grandfather—”
“Forget the old man. Forget everything. You want this. And so do I.”
My hands worked the topmost buttons of the back of her dress. She drew back. “Stop.”
“Don’t make me take it from you, Sofia.”
“Would you?”
“I don’t want to.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I’ll make you come. I promise.”
“You think this is about an orgasm?”
“If only it were that easy,” I said, releasing her, stepping away to run a hand through my hair, thinking. Thinking. I faced her. “This thing, Sofia…this amendment…Your grandfather is testing my weakness. He’s testing to see if you have become my weakness.”
“What do you mean?”
“He used Lina. He said he wouldn’t allow her to be here with you to see what I’d do. See if I’d give in to this demand, or tell him to go fuck himself. If I told him to fuck himself, then he’d know I didn’t give a shit about you.”
She bowed her head, her hand coming to her throat. “I need to sit down for a minute.”
She perched on the edge of the bed, not moving for a long time, probably trying to make sense of what I’d just told her. She began to undo the pins holding her hair together and set them on the nightstand. I counted twenty-seven by the time she was done and her hair fell in waves over her shoulders.
“Why didn’t you tell me that the other night?” she asked.
“Because I was pissed I’d been played. I was pissed at finding you and my brother—”
“That was nothing like what you thought.”
“I know. I know now.”
“Is there more?”
Now wasn’t the time for the “more.” “Forget him. He’s not why we’re here, understand? Not anymore.”
She didn’t reply but watched me thoughtfully.
“Come here, Sofia.”
She rose to her feet and crossed the room.
“Turn around.”
She did, obedient. She knew this had to happen as much as I did. I didn’t want to take it from her. I didn’t want her to make me take it.
I stepped to her, and she kept her back to me. Touching her as lightly as I could, I lifted the mass of hair over her shoulder. She still trembled, though, at that lightest brush of skin on skin. I looked at her neck, delicate and so fucking fragile. It made me realize how vulnerable she was. How easily she could be hurt.
My mind traveled to the men who’d come, the ones she’d asked about. Moriarty and his goons. I hadn’t missed the way he’d looked at her. In marrying her, she could become my vulnerability. Or my strength, depending. If she were viewed as a debt owed to me, it would show my ruthlessness. If she were viewed as someone I felt for, a woman I possibly cared about, then she was a weakness.
Was this to be my next war?
I would not be weak.
I could not.
Not if I wanted to survive. Not if I wanted us both to survive.
My eyes were drawn to the exposed skin at her back, each vertebra making up her spine, the perfect skin stretched over bone and muscle. She gasped, stiffening when I moved to undo the pearl buttons one by one, enjoying the painstaking process, wanting to make this moment last. Once I had unbuttoned down to the middle of her back, she moved her hands to keep the dress to her chest. I pulled it apart a little and looked at her, swallowing when, as if of their own accord, my hands reached to touch trembling flesh, tracing the lines of her shoulders, shoulder blades, spine.
She turned her head so she could see me from the corner of her eye. Even in profile, with her upturned nose, high cheekbones, and full lips, she was perfection.
“Wisdom,” I said absently, slowly unbuttoning the rest of the buttons, lower and lower until I could see the top of her lace panties.
“What?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
“Your name. Sofia. It means wisdom.”
We locked gazes, and I pushed the dress off her shoulders. She hesitated but dropped her arms and let it slide to the floor, let it pool around her ankles. She wore no bra and now stood with her hands covering her breasts. My gaze slid down her back to her lace-clad ass. My cock twitched, but it wasn’t just a fuck I wanted. It was so much more. A claiming. A taking. An owning. But even that wasn’t enough, not if it was only her body.
I wanted more.
I wanted everything.
“You are so beautiful,” I said, tracing the curve of her spine, liking how her body reacted, how she tightened, aware of my every fleeting touch. I leaned my head closer and kissed her shoulder, at the soft bend at her neck. She made a sound, and I turned her around and took her face in my hands.