Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
"Ah. So I'm not the only one who breaks your boxes." His lips twitch. "Come here, bella."
"Why?" I ask, suddenly wary.
"You're annoyed with your brother. I want to make it better." He crooks a finger, beckoning me toward the bed. "I promise not to remove your clothes."
I slowly creep toward him, surprised by his willingness to let me remain clothed. "You're very confusing, Luca Valentino," I mutter when he hooks his arms around my waist, pulling me onto the bed with him.
"How so?"
I shrug noncommittally.
"Tell me, principessa."
"You're letting me keep my clothes," I whisper.
He smiles, his expression soft. "How many times do I have to tell you, Callandria? I won't force you to give yourself to me. I take only what you give me of your own free will." He tucks hair behind my ears. "And you aren't ready to give me every piece of you."
"Oh." I'm not entirely sure what he means by every piece of me, but I have a feeling he isn't just talking about my body. This man is…complicated. Like the impossible nine-piece puzzles. Everyone assumes the ones with more pieces are harder to figure out, but they're wrong.
Those nine small, oddly shaped pieces leave nearly everyone confused as they frantically try to figure out how they fit together. Most give up without ever getting anywhere. This man is exactly like that. Impossible to figure out. Confusing. Made of sharp edges and angles that somehow snap together to form an image few ever actually manage to complete.
"I like seeing you in my shirt, bella," he murmurs after a moment.
"The shirts you bought me are too small."
"Hmm. I wonder how that happened."
I peek up at him. "You bought them on purpose, didn't you?"
"You look good in my shirt." He shrugs, unrepentant.
"Luca," I groan, and then I smile, unable to help myself. He really is a wicked man. He plays by his own rules. Actually, I think he makes his own rules as he goes. He does what he wants when he wants and makes no apologies for it. I want to know what freedom like that tastes like.
"Sleep, bella," he murmurs, dragging me halfway on top of him.
"I'm not tired."
"No?"
I shake my head, a blush staining my cheeks.
"What do you want to do, hmm?"
"I don't know," I whisper. It's a lie. I know exactly what I want to do. I want to pick up where we left off before my brother interrupted us. But he already said we aren't doing that. So I don't know where that leaves me. Frustrated and horny, I supposed.
His hand slips down my back. "You really shouldn't sleep fully clothed."
"Why not?"
"It's not good for you."
"Since when?"
"Since I can't fucking touch any part of you that I want to touch, bella," he growls, flipping me onto my back. He follows me over, hovering over me on his forearms. He presses his face to my throat, breathing me in. "Merda. You drive me crazy."
"I know the feeling, Luca."
"Yeah?" His gaze flicks to mine, ravenous. "Do you, Callandria? The things I want to do to you…" He dips his head again, skimming his lips across my breasts. "When you're mine, you'll come to love the chains, principessa. You'll plead with me to put you in them and take what I want from you."
"Luca," I groan, arching toward his mouth.
"I'll know every fantasy you have, every sensitive spot on your body." He bites my nipple, pulling a cry from my lips. "I'm going to ruin you, princess. Just like you ruined me."
"I didn't r-ruin you," I gasp.
"Liar," he says, prowling down my body. "As soon as I fucking set eyes on you, you ruined me, Callandria." He tugs my shirt up so his lips land against my belly. He bites me there, leaving another mark on my skin. "Non faccio che pensare a te." All I think about is you.
"Luca," I whimper. "Please."
"Let me see what belongs to me, piccolina," he breathes. "Let me taste it."
"Yes. Please, yes," I sob in relief, so tangled up in desire, I think I'd hand him the keys to my soul if he wanted them right now. He wants every piece of me. And God help me, I want to give them to him because he's all I think about too. It's terrifying but it's true. The last twenty-four hours of my life have been some of the best hours of my life. I've never felt more like myself and less like myself at the same time.
He groans, dragging his teeth down my abdomen. My muscles quiver beneath his touch, my body reacting to him on a cellular level. I feel him everywhere, as if he's pumping through my veins. He hooks his thumbs into my pants. I lift my hips, allowing him to drag them and my panties down my hips.