Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
He looks unimpressed.
Shit, did any of that make sense?
Was I just rambling?
Why does he make me nervously ramble like that?!
In just three short steps, he’s dominating the space between us. Invading the territory like it’s his. Like it’s always been his, and I’m just renting the air I’m currently breathing.
The nervous tension in my gut twists and rolls like a tumbleweed prompting me to quietly plead, “Please, don’t kill me.”
“I love hearing you beg, twinkle toes.” Delectable promise weaves into a husky voice.
Panic should pierce my system, yet my pussy swells in excitement instead.
Dampens my panties.
Aches for action that requires me to do the very thing he just purred.
“However,” his pause is accompanied by a glare of disapproval, “I hate hearing you beg for your life.” A firm hand claims the nape of my neck, applying sensual rather than savage pressure. “You will not do that again.”
Between the passion in his grip and the imploring in his gaze, it’s clear his feelings are hurt that I would even think it. I thoughtlessly reach out and give a gentle tug to the bottom of his peacoat. “I won’t.”
In the same commanding tone, Nero orders, “All doors are to be locked, especially when you’re working late alone.”
The statement completely side swipes me.
He’s not upset about the art or the chandelier or the bill I’m sure his accountant will be beating down his door for if he hasn’t already. He is simply, completely unbothered by the work I’m doing. Every ounce of disappointment in his voice seems related to me on a…personal level.
His jealousy over other men vying for my attention.
His hurt feelings over me thinking for even a second that he’d harm me.
And now worry…worry over my safety.
Being more touched than I know how to express leads me to teasingly swear, “You can relax, Nero. I won’t just…run off. I have no intention of leaving you.”
He allows a moment for me to add “until the contract is complete”, yet when I don’t, an undeniable hunger grows in his gaze. “Good.”
It’s hard to ignore the throbbing between my thighs from the single word spoken.
“You still need to keep the fucking doors locked at all times. I have men watching you for safety at all times, but a person can never be too safe, especially in my line of work. Now, swear to me, Mrs. DeLuca, that you will give a fuck about your safety the same way I do.”
My promise is spoken right above a whisper, “I swear.”
The hand claiming me slides around until only the tips of his fingers trail a line down the slope of my tits, stealing my stare, my breath, and my ability to move during its descent. “Now swear to me, Mrs. DeLuca, that you’ll never second guess your work in my presence or anyone else’s for that matter.”
His hand roughly curls around my hip leaving me incapable of doing anything other than nodding my compliance.
Nero’s free hand tips my chin up so that our eyes can connect. “Your designs have been stunning, and I look forward to seeing what you have planned for the other homes after dinner.” Without warning, he swipes away the objects cluttering the small table, lifts me by the hips onto it, and begins undoing the coat constricting his movements. “Mickie!”
The male comes strolling into the room just as his boss drapes his coat over the edge of the couch. “Yes, sir?”
“Have our dinner reservation moved back by an hour,” my pretend husband’s expression grows wolfish my direction, “and escort yourself outside for the time being.”
I dig my teeth into my bottom lip to suppress the moan that’s lingering in my throat.
“Yes, sir.”
Nero doesn’t wait for his trusted member of security to leave before he’s smashing his mouth against mine. The abrupt conquering leaves me melting and – having only encountered respectable pecks prior to this – creates an unfathomable anxiousness to explore all that I’m being offered. His rough spreading of my lips allows for his tongue to sweep itself around the new territory leaving undeniable damage in its wake. My own rushes around frantically in an attempt to catch the slick, untamed culprit yet is subjected to unrelenting lashes and rolls so powerful they make me wobble in my knees.
Our separation is as sudden as our connecting. Afterward, he lowers himself to his knees, and once he’s there, he glides his grip along my left leg down to my foot where he gingerly slides it out of the shoe it’s been occupying. “You’ve worked these tiny little toes all day, haven’t you?”
“To the bone,” I saucily tease, new heat flushing through my body.
His warm thumbs press into my arch, robbing me of an airy moan. “I’ve missed hearing that fucking sound.”
“I’ve missed you being around when I’m awake to have me make it.”