Page 30 of Nicoletta
She peeks up at me through those long lashes of hers, but I don’t melt—not yet.
“You know, if you were a guy, right now, you’d be tied to a chair sweating and bleeding in our padded room in the basement.”
Her eyes widen, and her back stiffens, which only makes my dick harder.
Yeah, I’m a sick bastard. ‘Cause as much as I hate her, I still wanna fuck her.
“You saved me twice tonight.”
I grab her chin between my thumb and forefinger and jerk her head up until we’re eye to eye. I want her to see my rage.
“You planted a fuckin’ murder weapon on me. It could’ve gotten me locked up again, only this time for life.”
“I never would’ve let that happen.”
“You know, I should hate you.”
“But you don’t.”
My hand slides down to the delicate, fragile skin of her neck. I tighten my grasp, and her pulse quickens under my fingertips. She swallows hard, and I feel that too.
I push her backwards, still fisting her neck. When her legs hit the couch, I glare down at her, taking her in from head to toe.
NICOLETTA
The absolute hate in his eyes fuels my lust, makes my legs weak, and that scares the shit out of me. Is it sick to enjoy the fury etched onto his face, or the harshness of his breath? To love the feel of his hand circling my neck? Tight enough to leave a mark, but not enough to cut off my air.
Knowing with one swipe of his hand, he could knock me out, one flick of his wrist, he could end my life—or give me the best orgasm ever.
He jams his rough, callused hand into my halter top and tweaks one nipple, then the other. He unties the material around my neck, and the loose fabric falls free, along with my breasts. He kneads them, then lifts one to his mouth. Sucking my nipples to hard peaks, he makes the delicate flesh tingle under his touch.
He eyes me again, then growls, “Sexy as fuck.”
I reach up to him, but he pins my arms at my side.
“You know, I’m gonna have to punish you.”
“Yes,” I murmur, my knees weakening in anticipation.
He spins me around, twists his hand in my hair, yanks my head to the side and bites the back of my neck. I undulate, pressing my ass against his jeans, feeling his cock pressing into my ass still covered in the leather skirt.
He tightens his fist in my hair. “Bend over.” His voice is harsh and rough.
I brace my hands against the back of the couch, and a second later, he rips the skirt off my hips and down my legs. The cool air from the air conditioner kisses my skin, then makes me shiver.
He grabs two big fistfuls of my ass and squeezes until I yelp.
“Fuckin’ perfect.” He leans into my ear. “But you’ve been a bad girl, so . . .”
I look over my shoulder at his smirking face.
“You’re gonna have to be punished.”
“But you saved me before.” I play along. “So why do you want to make me suffer now?”
“‘Cause you gotta learn not to mess with the Royal Bastards’ enforcer.” He slaps my ass cheek, then rubs his palm over the stinging skin.
“Ohhhh,” I moan.
