Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
I held up my phone. “I thought you’d like to see photos of Nevio and Greta.”
“I’d like that,” Remo said, moving to the side so there was room beside him on the bed. I eyed the spot then Remo leaning against the headrest with his naked upper body. Even the bandages didn’t make Remo any less attractive.
Trying to hide my thoughts, I strolled over to him casually and sank down beside him, legs stretched out before me. Remo’s eyes lingered on them. I was wearing a dress and no tights because it was surprisingly warm in the house. Goose bumps rippled across my skin. I cleared my throat and clicked on the first photo, which Mom had taken shortly after I’d given birth to the twins. I held them in my arms and looked down at them with an exhausted yet adoring expression.
Remo leaned in and his arm brushed mine. Despite the material of my dress between us, a tingle shot through me at the brief contact.
“You look pale in the photo,” he said quietly.
“After twenty-two hours of labor everyone does.”
Remo’s dark eyes flickered with a hint of wistfulness.
“I wish you could have been there...if I’d known what I know today, I would have come to Vegas sooner. I’m sorry I took that away from you.”
Remo cupped my chin and I tensed because he looked like he was going to kiss me. “Regret over the past is wasted energy. We can’t change the past, no matter how much we want to do it.”
“What would you want to change?” I asked, trying to ignore the feel of Remo’s touch.
He shook his head with a dark smile. “Not your kidnapping. I don’t feel an ounce of regret about stealing you.”
“You don’t?” I frowned, pulling back slightly but Remo leaned in, fingers still on my chin.
“Not one fucking bit. I’d kidnap you again to be the one you gift yourself to. You could have never been mine if I hadn’t stolen you.”
I didn’t argue, neither about me being his, nor about the fact that without the kidnapping we would have never found together.
“What about you?” Remo murmured. “Do you regret becoming mine?”
“No,” I admitted, and finally drew back from his touch. “Not that. I just wish it wouldn’t have cost my family so much.”
Remo nodded and settled back against the headrest. “Hardly anything worth having can be gained without loss and pain and sacrifice.”
My eyes trailed over his wounds and bruises. He’d sacrificed himself for his brother. But I had a feeling it wasn’t the only reason why he’d allowed my family to capture and torture him. He’d accepted pain, maybe even losing his life, for a chance to see me again.
I cleared my throat and clicked on the next photo. The first photo of Nevio and Greta lying in a crib beside each other.
I showed him photo after photo, neither of us saying anything. It was difficult to focus on anything but Remo’s warmth, his scent, the strength and power he oozed.
When I finally shut off my phone, my body was humming with need. I met his gaze, which rested unabashedly on me. Remo regarded me with an expression I knew too well. Hunger and dominance. He touched my bare knee.
I exhaled.
His hand slipped slowly up between my legs. “Remo,” I warned, but he held my gaze, his lips pulling wider.
“Have you let anyone touch what’s mine?”
I glared, but my body screamed for more. For Remo’s touch, for his lips.
He knew the answer, could see it on my face. “No,” he said quietly. “All of you is only mine.”
“You set me free, remember? I belong to myself.”
We both knew it was a lie. I’d never been free of his hold on me, but he, too, had lost his freedom. His hand slipped higher until finally he brushed over the fabric of my panties. They were drenched, just from being in his presence.
Remo groaned, low and dark, and my resolve crumpled. His thumb drew small circles on my crotch, and I could feel myself growing even more aroused. Remo’s dark eyes held mine, and as usual I couldn’t look away. His thumb pushed under my panties and between my folds, spreading my wetness. I whimpered from the contact, skin on skin. So good, so desperately needed. He drew small circles on my clit, round and round and round. I parted my legs a bit more and gripped the sheets, needing something to hold on to as I stared at Remo. His gaze possessed me like it always did.
“Are you going to come, Angel?”
I gave a small nod. It had been too long. I was falling apart so quickly. He didn’t speed up the pace as his other hand pushed up my dress so he could see his finger working me. Round and round. “Part your legs more,” he growled, and I did.