Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
I regret saying it when he stills inside me.
“You ache for me so much, you kneel for other men.”
“It didnt mean anything.”
“It had to be Ares Stavros,” he bites out.
“I was just doing my job,” I protest. “When I kneel for you, it’s because I want to give myself to you completely.”
“And yet you won’t.”
Because I’m a liar.
There’s nothing I can say to that, and I think I’ve ruined the moment when he pulls out. Then he rolls me onto my back and settles between my thighs, ripping the mask off and tossing it aside.
“This wasn’t how this was supposed to go,” he says.
“I’m sorry.” I meet his eyes, unable to hide the overwhelming emotion in mine.
“I don’t want you to be sorry.” He sighs, leaving the next part unsaid.
I just want you to be mine.
He sinks into me and sets a different pace. Less punishing, more deliberate. It’s a slow, possessive burn I feel deep in my bones. When his eyes drift to my lips, I can see how much he wants to kiss me. But he won’t let himself. I want to beg him to forgive me for leaving him. I want to tell him to keep me forever. Except, I can’t.
So instead, I wrap my legs around him and thread my fingers through his hair. Then I bury my face in his neck and breathe him in until I come.
It isn’t a violent release. It’s catharsis.
A moment later, he sinks deep inside me, groaning as he empties himself. The warmth of his cum floods my body, and all the tension between us seems to melt away. For a while, we just lay there as he continues to move inside me, like he isn’t ready for it to be over.
I’m not either. But exhaustion starts to pull me under as I look up at him with heavy eyes.
“You’re mine, Abella.” His knuckles graze my face, warmth returning to his touch. “And soon, you’ll have our baby inside you.”
I don’t know who he’s trying to convince—me or himself. I know I shouldn’t verbalize it, but I do.
“What if we fail?”
“I would sooner scorch the earth than concede the Vitale throne to a Stavros,” he declares. “Failure isn’t an option.”
39
ANGELO
Shifting back to her protector, I lift Abella in my arms, hands planted on her ass. She wraps her legs around me and rests her head on my shoulder. Her skin is damp, her cheeks are flushed, and her tangled hair is littered with dirt and grass. She’s never looked more ravaged than she does right now.
When the mess between her thighs soaks into my hoodie on the way back to the house, it makes me hard all over again.
It was foolish of me to think that I would eventually be able to purge this obsession with her. Every day I’m near her, it only grows stronger. I’m inside her every opportunity I get, and when I’m not fucking her, I’m thinking about fucking her.
In meetings, my thoughts drift to her instead of focusing on what it is I need to do. It’s a fucking problem, and it’s one I have no intention of solving anytime soon.
Abella clings to me, her eyes heavy as I carry her back to our suite and into the bathroom. I set her onto the counter and strip her bare before I discard my clothes. She lets me take care of her the way she always does, soaking up my attention as I wash her in the shower.
She craves this from me, and when I deprive her, I know it feels like a punishment. But it’s self-preservation. When she looks up at me, there’s a vulnerability in her eyes that she doesn’t often show. It tugs at something in my chest and makes me want to kiss her.
But kissing her is a slippery slope, and I won’t do it again until she’s willing to come clean and tell me everything. I can fuck her, touch her, and sleep next to her in bed every night. But I will never lay myself bare and make the mistake of trusting her again when she refuses to be honest with me.
So instead, I lift her gaze to mine and offer her the next best thing.
“You put up a good fight tonight, cara. I’m proud of you.”
Her eyes drift shut, face softening as she absorbs those words. I’ll never get over the way the world seems to stop for her the moment she has my approval. When I tell her how well she’s done, and she unravels like this, it pleases me to no end. But it also guts me that this wound lives inside her.
She never had approval from the one person she should have. Now that he’s dead, she’ll have to settle for hearing it from me for the rest of her life.