Page 92 of Marry Me Not
I retreated on instinct, my bare feet moving against the cold tile floor, seeking to maintain some distance between us. Failing. The man was moving toward me like a freight train.
My back hit the wall.
His palms landed on either side of my head. “My father’s dead. His killers are still on the loose. I’m trying to keep everything running while my mother is trying to steal the family from me. And yet do you know what I find myself thinking about most often?” The contempt had morphed into something hotter, something that burned across my flesh. “You.”
“I don’t believe you.” My voice shook. Inside me, a confused hurricane raged. I told myself he was lying to make me feel better, but that didn’t make sense.
And if he was telling the truth…
Oh God. I was screwed.
His laugh was bitter. “I think about you all the fucking time. I walk through my front door and see your shoes. I go into my bathroom and smell your shampoo. I try to eat in peace, and there are your little mugs on the counter, reminding me you’re here. You’re fucking everywhere. Inescapable. Even in my dreams, I can’t escape you. If only you knew how fucking pretty you look inside them, spread eagle on my bed, not a stitch of clothing on that body. And every fucking day, I feel it more and more. That urge to make you mine the way a real husband would.”
He stepped into me, pressed his hard body against my curves, and brought our faces close together. “That’s how thoroughly you’ve been holding my fucking attention. Still don’t believe me?”
My breaths were no more than harsh puffs of air. I was playing with fire, but I didn’t care if I got burned. “No.”
An angry huff. A palm around my throat. A muttered, “Fuck it.”
And then his mouth came crashing down on mine.
CHAPTER 31
COSIMO
There was only so mucha man could take before he snapped, and I was well past my limit.
Fabiana had been testing my sanity from the start, but tonight, she’d pushed me clean over the edge. If I didn’t have her—if I didn’t do something drastic to quiet this obsession—I’d never be the fucking don. I’d throw myself off a cliff just to get her out of my goddamn mind.
The fact that Vita had somehow managed to get under her skin was laughable. If it weren’t for Fabiana’s incomprehensible insecurities, she would’ve realized by now that somewhere between the engagement party and the altar, she’d managed to put me on a leash.
I was so fucking stupid for this woman.
There’d been a small chance the night wouldn’t end like this, but then I’d heard her put Vita in her place. No one had ever done that for me. Not even my own father. Her standing up for me like that had cracked something open inside me.
As I’d driven us home, I’d tried to think of some way to keep myself from her tonight, and I’d come up blank. I’d been so absorbed with my dilemma that I’d somehow missed her stewing a foot away from me.
But all our fight had done was burn away the last of my restraint.
I tightened my grip on her neck and deepened the kiss, pushing my tongue into her mouth. It wasn’t so much a kiss as a conquering. A claiming long overdue.
For a second, she retreated.
Then her tongue tangled with mine, and her hands balled into fists in my jacket as she yanked me closer. Had she fantasized about this as obsessively as I had? Highly unlikely. For all the talk of her naivete, when it came to us, she was the sensible one, while I’d been the one slowly losing my mind.
I shoved my leg between hers, pressing it hard enough against her mound to drag a moan from her. Her delicate throat trembled beneath my hand. I pulled back and then dove in again, pulling on her bottom lip with my teeth before doing the same to the top.
I was so fucking hard for her already. She writhed against me, rubbing herself against my thigh with an eagerness that turned me on even more.
I let go of her throat and broke the kiss to drag my mouth to a spot on her neck. Every lick and every nip made her tremble more. My palm swiped over her shoulder, and I hooked my fingers into the dress that was really starting to annoy me. I pulled it down her arm as far as I could and kissed the newly exposed flesh while she rode my thigh.
“Fuck, Nettle. You gonna come for me from that alone?” I growled against her shoulder.
“Maybe,” she panted.
I pulled my leg back a few inches. She made a frustrated sound and glared at me, but she calmed down when I dropped to my knees.
I shoved the dress with all its fucking feathers up to her waist, took her hands, and forced them closed around the bunched-up fabric. “Hold that for me.”
