Page 99 of Marry Me Not
A rough laugh tore out of me. I’d never been accused of being a fucking tease before.
“Or maybe you’re just too scared.”
“Careful, Nettle,” I warned. My gaze drifted back to her tits as she straightened back up. I had to clench my fists to keep myself from reaching for her. From pulling her into my lap. “Three years is a long time.”
“Three years? Try a lifetime.”
I tracked a drop of sweat running over her taut stomach before it disappeared at the edge of her panties. “You think it was easy for me to stop last night?”
“Didn’t seem like it was that hard.”
“You won’t be able to take it back.”
“Why do you think I would want to?”
Because once I have you, I won’t want to let you go.
The thought landed like a sharp blow. My gaze lifted back to her eyes, to those emerald pools that were now darkened with desire, and I knew it then.
She wanted to fuck me once. But I wanted to keep her forever.
The asymmetry would be funny if it wasn’t so fucking tragic.
But here was the thing with denying your wants long enough—you got good at it. I’d had over a decade of practice.
Give her what she wants. Then suffer the consequences.
If that was the price I had to pay, I’d pay it.
“Fine,” I bit out even as every instinct for self-preservation screamed at me to stop. A cocktail of anger, frustration, and arousal churned through me with relentless force. “You don’t want to make this into a ceremony? Then get on my fucking lap.” The words came out rough. It was one final attempt to scare her off.
Instead, she looked at me like she’d just been handed exactly what she wanted.
“Gladly.”
She reached down, unwound the towel from my waist, and spread it open across the bench.
The next thing I knew, she was on top of me.
And just like that, the last of my restraint snapped.
CHAPTER 34
FABIANA
The next timehe met my eyes, I knew I’d won. Want—greedy and impatient—swirled inside Cosimo’s blue gaze. This game between us would leave me ruined in the end, but I would savor taking this round.
When I first stormed into the sauna, I didn’t know we’d end up here, but one look at him in just that towel, and the pang of lust had been so sharp, it had stolen my breath away. I’d done my best to stay angry at him, to put up an argument about Italy, but half of my mind had been on something else.
On us tangled in each other.
His perfect muscled body dripped with sweat as he lifted his hands and buried them in my hair, tugging on it until I arched my neck. “You win, Nettle,” he said as if he’d read the traces of my triumph in my expression. “You fucking win. I’m going to fuck you so good that you’re going to think of me every time you’re with another man. I’ll leave you with a curse. Every time you fuck your future husband, it’ll be my face, my hands, and my cock that you will feel. You understand?”
Anticipation shrink-wrapped itself over my skin. “So confident,” I breathed. “Let’s see if you can deliver.”
His lips curved into a smirk.
And then he pulled me into a rough kiss.
