Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“Matteo, I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I can’t–I can’t—” I broke off with a sob, and suddenly he sat up, wrapping his arm around me and dragging me to his lap. He covered my mouth with his, kissing me with a fierceness that shocked and surprised me. He held me tight—so tight I could barely breathe—and he devoured me. His tongue was relentless, his body hard and unyielding against mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, sliding my hands into his hair the way he liked, trying to understand what was happening. He fisted my nightgown, pulling it up my legs, and shifted as he yanked his pants down, his cock heavy and hot against my skin. He pulled my legs apart and buried himself inside me, his mouth never leaving mine. His thrusts were solid and powerful. Desperate and wanting. He growled and groaned deep in his throat. His grip on my hips was too tight, his mouth hard on mine. I clutched his shoulders, my nails scoring his skin, holding on as hard as I could. My body rose and fell with his, the passion between us sizzling and hot. The need overwhelming. Every stroke claimed, consumed, and possessed. Every pump of his hips screamed his anger, his worry, and his demand. Every slide of his tongue said what he couldn’t.
Until the dam broke and he clutched me even tighter, burying his face into my neck as he climaxed, clenching me, shaking, and moaning my name into my skin. I trembled with the force of my orgasm, the swell of it powerful, making me whimper in a mixture of pleasure and pain as it tore through my body, leaving me gasping for air and exhausted.
We sat wrapped around each other, our bodies melded, still joined.
“Please forgive me,” I whispered. “Please.”
He sighed, his breath flowing over my skin.
“I have forgiven you, Evie. It’s myself I can’t forgive.”
Chapter Twelve
Matteo
I carried Evie upstairs, her warm body pressed to mine. I laid her back in our bed and slid in with her, turning to face her. In the dim light, her face was pale, the signs of her worry of the past couple of days evident.
I stroked her cheek.
“What do you mean, you can’t forgive yourself?” she asked quietly. “I was in the wrong. I know that, Matteo. I went against your orders.”
I sighed, thinking of how I had felt when I realized she had left the estate with only Roza. My first reaction hadn’t been anger, but fear. Then when the situation was compounded by the fact that she hadn’t called Geo, a strange sensation had occurred.
I thought she was running. She’d found a way out and was leaving me. The contemplation left me paralyzed. Devastated.
Marcus had leaned over. “Her phone is at the house, Matteo. I think she forgot it. She’d have no way of contacting Geo—or any of us, in fact.”
The paralyzing fear left me when I realized he was right, and common sense took over. The anger bled back in. Not only had she left the house, she was now alone, with no way to contact anyone. A quick call to the salon confirmed what Marcus had guessed.
She had headed into the mall, and she was no doubt shopping.
“What is it that fascinates her so there?” I wondered out loud as the car sped toward the mall and I had called to have Neil head there and find her. “Stay back. Don’t let her see you,” I ordered. “But keep her safe.”
Marcus shrugged, not meeting my eyes.
“What?” I snapped.
“She’s a woman. Many of them enjoy shopping.”
I waved off his words. When she appeared back at the salon, loaded down with bags but looking nervous and upset, I recalled them, but it didn’t dissipate my fury.
I shifted, meeting Evie’s anxious gaze.
“I was angry.”
“I know. You wouldn’t let me touch you.”
“I was afraid if you did, I might hurt you, Evie.”
Her eyes widened. “You would have struck me?”
“No.” I paused. “I don’t know. I doubt it, but I felt as if I was out of control. I wanted to punish you. I couldn’t be around you.” I cleared my throat. “In that moment, I was no better than the scum you had run away from.”
She inched closer, her little body pressed to mine. She laid her hand on my cheek. “But you are. Don’t you see, Matteo? You didn’t hurt me. You walked away. You are a hundred times the man he ever was.”
Then she swallowed. “But you not speaking to me hurt me more than the physical blow would have.”
Her confession pierced my chest. Her words of assurance touched me. I held her close. “I’m sorry, Piccolina. It shook me. The whole thing.” I paused. “When I first found out you were missing, I thought you’d left me.”
“What?” She gasped. “Matteo, I told you I would never—”