Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
There was no way I could miss how she froze at my words. I could feel just how tense she was keeping her body, despite how thoroughly I tormented her upturned and perfectly firm ass.
And somehow I took her posture as a bit of direct defiance and spanked her well beyond what I might have, not stopping until finally, when I was just about to stand up and free my belt, I felt her give in and submit, burying her face in the bed to try to cover her tears. As if it embarrassed her to be crying in front of me.
I was appalled when I looked down at her and saw just how badly I had ravaged her ass, but then I hardened my heart against being too soft on or with her. She’d needed that. Hopefully I wouldn’t have to do it again for a while, not that I would shirk away from it if that weren’t the case. If I determined that she needed me to paddle her ass within the hour, then I would without hesitation. We were in a life or death situation, and I couldn’t constantly worry about whether or not she was going to decide to do what I told her to do. And as I turned her back against me, forcing her to snuggle her poor raw, bare bottom against the front of my pants and tormenting myself in an entirely different way from her, but just as badly, that was exactly what I said.
“When I want you to do something, whether I’m asking, showing, or telling, I expect you to do it. Your life might well depend on it.” I was glad that she couldn’t see just how tightly my jaw was clenched at the idea of me being the cause of her death, or for that matter, her being harmed at all. If something happened to her as the result of me forcing her to get involved in my completely twisted up life, I would never forgive myself. My revenge was with her father. She was right when she said she wasn’t him. I needed to remind myself of that fact. My hate was not hers to endure.
I held her there, against me, one big hand low on her tummy, my other arm beneath her head as a makeshift pillow. I could feel—even through my pants—just how thorough a job I had done on her. She was generating so much heat from her poor punished ass. Well, at least part of her was warm, I thought to myself. But as I let my hand begin to wander south, there were other, more pleasurable ways to warm her up, and I wanted to explore every single one of them with her.
But I stopped my descent as my stomach growled loudly, and I realized that I needed to acquiesce to its demands, if not for her then for me. I was hungry, and I could imagine that she was too. I had to give her credit—she had traveled for hours and I hadn’t heard a peep of complaint out of her, as a true mafia princess would have. She was, however, already much too thin for my tastes, and far too stubborn to actually ask for food, so it was on me to make sure it happened.
I was happier than I should have been when she said that she wasn’t engaged to be married. I didn’t find it shocking that the bastard Costa hadn’t sold his daughter off to increase his power and prestige, but still happy to hear it. I had no right to be thinking of anything like that in regards to her.
The truth was that I should never have taken her with me. Kidnapping Costa’s daughter as payback was fucking stupid. I was starting to realize that now with every minute I had Aria in my possession. I would never hurt her, and most definitely not kill her. Surely, Costa would know that and call my bluff. Had I killed men before? No. And Vittorio Costa could figure that out real quick. I also didn’t take casualties of war, and that was exactly what Aria was.
Fuck me.
Kidnapping Aria just added another problem to my already existing huge list.
Still, she was gorgeous and warm and had the most magnificent hair… and nearly fucking her—the way she’d felt naked in my arms forced me to ignore this glaring problem of mine. I knew I would be replaying that memory in my mind long after she was gone, and I intended to add more memories tonight, tomorrow, the next day… for as long as I had her. For now, though, I denied myself by feeding her bits of salami and cheese while still holding her close to keep her warm.
Or rather, trying to.