Page 64 of His Kidnapped Queen
“So you say.”
“How much did you hear? When I was talking to Diego?”
“Heard that you talk a lot more to him than you do to me,” he mutters, his brow furrowed in a frown. He sounds almost jealous.
“Maybe he’s easier to talk to.”
“Is that so? And why’s that?”
Because I don’t want to jump his bones.
I shrug. “I dunno.”
His hands go to my hips, not quite touching but hovering over them as I keep my arms around his neck.
“Pixie. Sophia.”
“Hm?” I’m lost in his green eyes, melting against him.
“Are you ever going to talk to me?”
I sigh. “I’ve told you everything already.”
“I’ve asked you not to lie to me.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve asked you to believe what I say!” My voice cracks with frustration, not sadness. I try to pull away from him, but he won’t let me, drawing me closer. “What can I do to make you believe me?”
“I don’t know,” he says in an almost-whisper, then he leans down and kisses me hungrily, his tongue sliding between my lips.
I moan into his mouth, my fingers locking behind the nape of his neck as I kiss him back hard, nipping at his lower lip as he tries to pull away.
“Fuck, Sophia,” he curses, growling as he picks me up by my hips, slamming me back against the balcony door, which has drifted shut in the breeze. This ridiculous dress I’m wearing gets bunched around my hips again. I’d shed my thong earlier today, not wanting to wear dirty underwear.
He rolls his hips against me, his eyes widening and snapping to mine when he realizes I’m not wearing panties. His mouth opens as if he’s going to scold me, but I kiss him again, sticking my tongue into his mouth. He grabs it and sucks on it, making my knees go weak.
“Luca, please,” I plead, finally asking for what I want, finally letting him know he’s not taking advantage, that I want it too. Probably more than he does.
His green eyes bore into mine, his chest heaving.
“You’re serious? You want?—”
“I want you,” I breathe. “I want you to fuck me, Luca, please.”
How much clearer can I be?
18
LUCA
Her tongue is in my mouth, her fingers tugging at the long hair at the nape of my neck, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the whole world. What does that say about me?
I’ve got my tongue down a cop’s throat, for god’s sake. What am I doing?
“Stop,” I gasp against her neck, pulling back. “Not out here.”
“Why not?”
Because I don’t want Diego to know.Because I don’t wantanyoneto know. Because I shouldn’t be doing this.
