Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
It’s late when I finish up with Vincenzo, and even later by the time I make it to my bedroom. It’s dark, the room quiet except for Lucretia’s soft breathing.
She’s curled up in a ball on the far side of the bed, so close to the edge that she could fall off if she shifted only a hair farther.
I take off my coat, my shirt, then my pants as I walk around to her side of the bed. The faint light from the bathroom falls over her face, her dark hair shining even in the dimness. She must’ve showered, because I can smell my soap in the air. Her lips are slightly parted, and she has her hands folded under her head. The face of an angel but a heart forged in hell. She’s so beautiful, a perfection that seems nearly impossible, especially given her parents. Carmen Fontana was a looker when she was younger, from what I’ve heard, but she was nothing compared to her daughter.
My cock is already hard, and I run my thumbs around the waistband of my boxer briefs to tuck it in. I stand and watch her for a while longer, my cruel heart wanting to wake her up and make her cry. Her mouth wrapped around my shaft as tears roll down her cheeks—such a fucking pretty picture. But there’s another part of me—one that’s been annoying the ever-loving fuck out of me—that wants to let her sleep. And yet another part that wants to wake her to talk to her, to ask her how she enjoyed the torture of dining with her shitty parents, to ask her more. But that’s not what this is about.
I reach out to touch her cheek then pull back. I can’t do this by half measures. Either I wake her up and take what I want from her, or I leave her alone. What’s that saying? Inside every man are two wolves? Not me. Inside me is a singular fucking beast that knows what it wants and takes it. It’s how I’ve lived my life. I reach for her again, intent on wrapping her hair around my fist and forcing her to her knees. But again, I stay my hand. Because if I do this, she’ll despise me. If I break her this way, I won’t be able to go back. Some things can’t be mended. And I’ve told myself again and again, that I want to break her, that I want to reach the point of no return, that I want to make her hurt. But here I stand, the beast inside me suddenly advising caution when all its ever done is join me in the euphoria of blood and destruction.
With growing frustration, I stalk away and climb into bed.
I look over at her, but she seems miles away, her face turned from me.
Closing my eyes, I tell myself I need to sleep. I need to clear my head and wake in the morning with renewed purpose. Because if I’m going to bring down no fewer than two families in one fell swoop, I need my shit together.
But even as I clench my eyes shut, I feel her. I sense her breath, her warmth, can even catch the scent of her. She’s sleeping quietly, but she’s loud in my ears. Tormenting me with her nearness, with her goddamn innocence. She shouldn’t be this way. She shouldn’t blush for me, shouldn’t be anything except a Fontana whore. But she’s not. She’s …
I roll over and swipe a hand down my face. If there was another prisoner in the stables, I’d be heading that way right now to get my hands dirty. But there isn’t. So instead, I lie in bed and torture myself while slowly falling into blissful dreams of the woman I plan to destroy.
I wake slowly, my blood sizzling as I open my eyes. My cock is aching, my entire body on edge, and it doesn’t take long to figure out why.
Lucretia is snuggled against my side, her body warm, her scent sweet. The faint morning light shows me her eyes are closed, still dreaming. Her hand is on my stomach, her knee resting atop my thigh. Only a few more inches and she’d nudge my cock, feel just how hard she’s made me.
Last night, I counseled patience. But this morning, that logic is gone.
With a quick movement, I’ve flipped her onto her back.
Her eyes snap open, and she screams.
I slap my hand over her mouth, then grab one flailing wrist and pin it above her. “Good morning, wife.”
She tries to close her legs to keep me out, but I press my knees between hers and force her to spread. Once I have enough room, I press my hips between her thighs. Fuck, her cunt is so hot, I can feel it through the fabric of her panties and my briefs.