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)
A smile curves across her face. “Of course, Angelo. Anything you need.”
The insinuation is there, and I hate him for playing into this, but I have to believe he’s doing it just to piss me off.
When the door clicks shut behind her, Angelo taps out a message on his phone, not bothering to look at me. “What do you need, Abella?”
I round his desk, closing the distance until I’m beside him. “You’re my husband.”
“And?” He arches a brow at me.
“We took vows to be faithful, and I am. Can you say the same?”
“You’ve made promises before,” he reminds me. “How did that turn out?”
“Are you fucking her?”
He laughs, and it sparks a fury in me I didn’t even know I was capable of.
“Tell me.” I shove at his chest. “Are. You. Fucking. Her?”
He captures my wrist, and I fight him off, shoving at him again until he rises from his seat and quickly overpowers me. It only takes one of his hands to pin both of mine behind my back.
His body presses against me, darkness pooling in his eyes. Our mouths are mere inches apart. He’s breathing fire, and I’m so angry I can’t control myself. It spills out in hot, ugly, embarrassing tears.
I wish I could just find a way to hate him.
“Enough,” he growls. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I glare up at him. I’m not even fighting him anymore.
“This.” He swipes my tears away with a rough hand, like they offend him on a personal level.
It doesn’t make sense, until it does.
He gets no pleasure from seeing me cry.
“Are you going to behave?” His voice softens a fraction.
I nod, and he releases his grip on me. But I prove myself a liar when I grab his face and try to kiss him.
Again, he rejects me, prying my hands away as he shakes his head.
“Why?” I ask.
He kissed me the night we married. He did it repeatedly. But now, he won’t.
“I have work to do,” he says.
He’s dismissing me, but I can’t leave things like this. He’ll stay mad forever if I do. And maybe it’s stupid, but I don’t want it to be this way for the rest of the time we have together.
“This is our honeymoon.” My voice cracks. “We only get one.”
He takes his seat, giving me one of the toneless responses I hate so much.
“It’s for show, Abella.”
Those words are intended to wound, but I know there’s more to it than that. He might want his revenge, but there’s a part of him that wants me too. He can deny it all he wants, but I’ve seen it. And right now, I intend to prove it.
I squeeze into the space between him and the desk and sink to my knees before him.
“Is this for show too?” I stroke the rigid outline in his trousers.
“You think that means something?” he answers with a bored expression. “I could get an erection from a light breeze rolling by. So don’t flatter yourself.”
Ignoring that jab, I lean in and press my lips to the heavy length straining against his seam.
“Abella.” He makes a rough noise in his throat.
I kiss my way up his shaft to the button on his trousers. When I swirl my tongue around it, I feel his cock jerk beneath the material. It gives me the encouragement I need to unzip him.
Slowly, I peel apart the fabric and unwrap him like a gift.
He’s wearing black boxer briefs that sit low on his waist, showcasing every glorious inch of him. I don’t think it matters how many times I see him like this, it will probably always take my breath away.
I slip my fingers just under the band of his briefs, dragging them along his warm skin. It’s a stolen touch, and it isn’t nearly enough. I could spend days exploring his body. But right now, I settle for pushing his shirt up, exposing the ridged expanse of his abs. I scrape my fingers down the hard muscle, enjoying the way it contracts in response. He’s the embodiment of weaponized masculinity, and for as long as I live, I’m certain I’ll never see another like him.
Leaning up on my knees, I kiss a path along the dark trail of hair that disappears beneath his waistband. A slight tremor moves through his body, and it makes me feel feral.
Wrapping a palm around the pronounced swell in his briefs, I pump his cock a few times through the material. Then I do something I’ve wanted to since the first time I saw this part of him. I open wide and lightly bite down on him through the fabric, scraping my teeth up his length.
He inhales sharply, hand twitching at his side. I tease him a little more, sucking the wet spot at the top of his briefs before lapping at it with my tongue. He throbs in my grasp, the heat radiating from him an undeniable giveaway.