Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Holy...shitty...cow.
If it were anyone else, I'd be tempted to think what I'm seeing includes several inches' worth of padding.
But because this is Cesare Marchetti and his, um, package I'm gaping at...
I know it can only be real, and it has my breasts aching and swelling like they've never done in the past.
"Do you remember what I told you earlier, tesoro?" The lust coating his whispered words makes my womanly folds start to throb with forbidden heat.
"Our marriage is not a one-way street of ownership. Just as I own every inch of you, all of me is also yours, tesoro...and that includes all fourteen inches of my cock."
Did he just say fourteen inches?
My gaze jerks up to his...and a gasp escapes me when I realize that all this time Cesare has been talking, he's also been busy devouring my flesh with his gaze...with my nipples all shamefully puckered up against my dress.
Shit!
I'm about to cross my arms over my chest when we hear the nervous intrusion of another woman's voice.
"Signor Marchetti?"
Cesare turns his back to me, and I nearly sag in relief.
Phew.
The maid says something about supper being served in the Blue Room, and I listen vaguely to the two of them talk while hurriedly gulping air back into my lungs. I honestly didn't even realize I was holding my breath the entire time he was speaking. It's as if the darkly inviting sound of Cesare's voice had me under a spell, and every word he's silkily let slip is a new layer of seductive entrapment.
You can't let him get to you like that again, dude!
My head starts to hurt as I try to mentally regroup. I can't believe it was just hours ago when I was so desperately starving...that I had seriously planned to mug a (seemingly but not really) defenseless old woman.
That was just hours ago, for heaven's sake, but here I am now, feeling a shamefully different kind of hunger, and all because Cesare Marchetti said 'cock' and 'pussy' in the same breath.
C'mon, dude!
I grit my teeth and tell myself I'll do better, but as soon as Cesare turns to face me again, my body betrays me anew, and my pussy starts getting wet like it's turned into his personal faucet of desire.
Shiiiiiiit!
"You're blushing, my Penelope."
I wish I could say he needs to have his eyes checked, but I can't. The heat burning my cheeks is impossible to deny, and him calling me his Penelope only makes me blush even harder.
How in the world have we gotten to this point? We were supposed to have a serious discussion about what our marriage may be like, if it pushes through, but the only thing that the past few minutes has made clear is how my wildly wanton body is not to be trusted at all.
"Would you like to tell me why?"
Never.
"Or perhaps you'd prefer I make a guess," he teases.
Nope.
"Is it possible...that you're blushing because you've finally realized how filthy fucking good it would feel...when we become each other's owner in marriage?"
Yes! No! I mean, I don't know at all, with how diabolically good he is at using really dirty words to mess with my senses.
When I ran away from my foster home, I already knew to expect the worst once I became homeless, and I think that was what helped me survive my first few days in the streets.
I knew what I was getting into that time...unlike now.
Nothing in this world has prepared me for the reality of having to match wits with Boston's underworld royalty—-or resisting the wiles of a smolderingly hot mafia boss like Cesare Marchetti.
Everything that's happened today has completely blindsided me, and I have the craziest urge to laugh and cry when Cesare offers me his hand, and I realize how absolutely none of the thoughts racing in my mind has to do with rejecting his touch.
This man already owns me.
But can I really believe him when he says he'll also be mine?
Chapter Four
Cesare
HE HEARD HER BREATH catch as their fingers twined, and Cesare's grip on her hand involuntarily tightened. The sound she had made was delicate, just like the rest of her was, and it had him feeling fiercely protective, in a way that he had never been in his life.
Why did this girl seem so different from all the others?
With her head still bent, and her gaze on their clasped hands, he was able to run his gaze over her from head to toe, broodingly.
She was eighteen to his twenty-eight. Too damn young, in other words, and especially since Cesare had always preferred his lovers to be closer to his age, as this made them less likely to be emotional and clingy.
She was also too pale and too thin, all skin and bones actually, and he wondered grimly if this meant she was the type to go crazy on her diet.