Page 36 of Bound in Vengeance
Before my brain can fully process the sheer stupidity of what I am doing, I unlatch the lock and slide the heavy glass door open. The cool night air rushes in, and Alessandro stumbles past me into the room, his balance uncharacteristically off.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper-yell, my hands hovering in the air between us, terrified to touch him.
He manages to flash me a faint, wicked smile. Through the narrow slit of moonlight streaming in behind him, his intense grey eyes wash over me, tracking down the length of my body. The look is so heavy, so inherently possessive, that my body responds with a delicious, betraying shudder.
“You like silk,” he mumbles, his voice rough and gravelly as his eyes linger on my emerald nightgown.
I suddenly become acutely conscious of how thin the fabric is. To my absolute mortification, I feel my nipples harden under his intense gaze, pushing taut against the silk.
I cross my arms over my chest, trying to shield myself from him. “Leave right now, Alessandro, or I’ll scream. I swear to God I will call the guards. And my father.”
He rolls his eyes, a low, exhausted grunt escaping him. “You wouldn’t have unlocked the door if you were going to scream,sweetheart.”
Frustrated and desperate to break the spell of the darkness, I stumble over to the bedside table and flick on the lamp. The sudden burst of warm light floods the bedroom.
Alessandro groans, shielding his eyes with a bloody hand as he staggers blindly toward my bed. He collapses onto the edge of the mattress, and my stomach drops when a bright streak of crimson rubs off his clothes, staining my pristine white sheets.
“I'll ask you one more time,” I say, my voice shaking as I stare at the pooling blood. “What are you doing here?”
“I need help,” he mutters, his jaw clenched tight as he finally pulls his hand away from his arm, revealing a deep, jagged gash that is actively pouring blood. “I need stitches.”
I gape at him, horrified. “And how did you know I would be able to help you with that?”
He rolls his eyes again, his pale face tight with pain. “I guessed. It was either this, or I bleed to death on your floor. Pick one. Choose wisely.”
I hesitate, a million reasons why I should let him bleed screaming through my head. But when I look down at the sheer amount of blood soaking into my carpet, panic wins. I head straight for the bedroom door. The main house first aid kit is kept in the storage closet one floor down.
I’ve just reached the doorway when a familiar, suspicious buzzing sound cuts through the quiet room.
My heart slams into my throat. A wave of scorching embarrassment completely envelopes me. I whirl around, my eyes wide.
Alessandro is leaning back against my pillows, holding my vibrator up with his good hand. The small device is vibrating steadily, and there is a brilliant, entirely unhinged intensity dancing in his grey eyes.
I march right back over to the bed, my face on fire, and launch myself at him to grab it. But despite his severe injuries, his reflexes are entirely intact. He easily swerves his hand out of my reach, using his size to block me.
“Give it to me!” I snap, reaching over his chest.
Instead of handing it over, he shakes his head, a dark smirk playing on his lips. Before I can pull away, he brings the vibrating tip of the plastic down, pressing it directly against the apex of my breast.
The shocking, intense sensation zaps straight to my hardened nipple, and I have to swallow a sudden moan, violently swatting his arm away to break the contact.
Alessandro doesn't break character. He locks his dark gaze onto mine, his voice dropping into a dangerous, smug purr.
“So obedient,” he whispers, the vibration still humming between us. “You did masturbate thinking about me tonight, didn’t you?”
My cheeks heat up to a violent crimson, the truth written all over my guilty face. Before I can even stop myself, my hand flies out.Slap!
The sharp crack of my palm against his cheek echoes through the room. I don't wait to see his reaction. I whirl on my heel and storm out of the bedroom, my breath hitching as I race down the stairs to grab the medical kit.
Why am I even helping him? I should let the bastard bleed out.
If I let him die, the marriage will be called off, and I’ll be attending his burial instead. That would be a dream come true.
Yet, my hands are already grabbing the heavy medical kit from the closet shelf. I grip the handle tightly and head back upstairs, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
When I step back into the bedroom, the vibrator is still buzzing away on the mattress, its low hum mocking me. Alessandro isn't sitting down. Instead, he’s leaning heavily against my dresser, casually pulling open my drawers with his uninjured hand.
Before I can even yell at him, he fishes out a pair of my lace panties, holding them up to the light. He turns his head toward me, a lazy smirk touching his lips. "These are nice."
