Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 68
Crue
After our explosive reunion, I carried her to bed. Rya was tired and asleep before her head hit the pillow. But before I took my place beside her, I slipped the engagement ring on her finger. She starts to shift, but before she has the chance to escape the bed, I pull her back with my arm around her stomach. Then I rub my notably hard cock against her ass.
She chuckles. “Calm down. I’m just going to make us coffee.”
“You seem to make a habit out of running, princess.”
She twists in my arms and levels me with a stare. “And one thing I can depend on you for is your next-level stalker skills.”
“Oh, but Miss Ricci, I have so many other skills to offer.”
She smiles and presses a possessive claim to my lips, her hips rolling against my cock.
“We need to sort out our contract before I let you get away with any more of this.”
My eyes spring open. “Contract? You really know how to kill a mood, don’t you.”
“I am a lawyer, after all,” she teases as she pushes away. “At least I offer mercy by making you a coffee first.” That’s when she stills, her gaze falling to her hand. Then, those eyes I love so much raise to stare back at me.
“Why do I have the ring on?” she asks.
“Because it’s yours.”
“We haven’t agreed on anything.”
“I’ll agree to whatever you want. I want you,” I say simply,
She glances back at her hand and then walks out, not saying another word or taking her eyes off the ring.
When she doesn’t return, I pull on my pants and step down the staircase. Rya is sitting on the couch, all business-like, in my shirt. Her bronze skin is on display as she crosses her legs deliberately, making sure to give me a good look at that sweet cunt of hers.
“If you could please take a seat, Mr. Monti.” She suggests the chair across from her.
I pick up the coffee she made and watch her appreciatively.
The morning sun and water behind her produce a halo of sorts around the woman I would consider anything but saintly.
“I’ve drafted up a new contract,” she states.
“A new contract?” I raise a curious brow as I take a sip of the coffee. It’s ironic since that’s what got us into this mess in the first place.
“You’re forced to take a wife within two weeks, correct?”
“Correct,” I grit out, unsure as to where she’s going with this. I have always made that abundantly clear.
“And you can’t possibly get out of it?”
“Not unless I kill over twenty founding fathers, which I am not entirely opposed to.”
Her gaze darts to me, and I see the quick calculation there.
She throws her hair over her shoulder and says, “Then they’ll get a wedding. We will marry. I will take your name. But so help me God, if you piss me off, I will become unfaithful and fuck you off at the first chance I get and continue to do so until you are driven insane.”
The noise that comes from my throat is not entirely human. “I’m done with this cat-and-mouse game, princess.”
“Then don’t be a possessive asshole.”
“But you like that part of me,” I say with a narrowed gaze.
She hides her smile, all lawyer-like. “I’m not done. I don’t know if I want kids. But the families don’t have to know that. This contract states that should I choose not to give you any heirs, I am not obligated to do so.”
“I need an heir, Rya.”
“Do you want me or an heir?” Her nail lightly begins to tap on the contract as she considers me. I’m sure as hell not going to give her any reason to run again. But, surely, she knows me well enough to know I’ll get what I want in the end.
“I’ve always wanted you,” I tell her. “I will always choose you.”
Her breath hitches and she looks back at the contract. “And if that happens and I do not produce an heir, then I find myself slightly biased toward the next-in-line heir, Alessia. Who so happens to also be our godchild.”
I hold my tongue. She will be giving me an heir.
“No bugging my phone,” she continues.
“Scratch that out.”
She looks at me with an edge to her gaze and then takes a sharp intake of breath as if deciding something. “Fine. I will remain in New York.”
“You will move into my penthouse.”
“I will consider it. But I won’t sell my apartment, so I can retreat there when you become too overbearing. And you are not allowed to break in.”
“It’s not breaking in if I’m your husband,” I grumble.
“Crue.” She places the paper on her lap and gives me an expression that is so unimpressed I want to fuck her demanding, filthy mouth until she cries.
She seems to be enjoying these negotiations. “Is that all, princess? If so, come and sit on my cock like a good girl.”