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But I didn’t.
The dam building up behind my eyes was too fragile for me to open my mouth and let loose my anger. All I wanted now was to creep into my bed and weep under the sheets. So, I turned my gaze back out the window, watching the passing cars.
Besides, the croak in my voice wasn’t going to let any words out.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ANTONIO
“No fucking way!”
I rocked back on my heels, blessing and cursing the day I met Divya Praan. My bedroom door flew open to reveal the object of my source of pain and pleasure. One woman and so much emotion. I gave no head to her huffs and puffs while I continued uncuffing my shirt sleeves, subtly letting my gaze glide over her through the reflection of my mirror.
She was fucking gorgeous, standing in my room. My wife. Even more so than yesterday. Probably less than tomorrow. Her hair hung loose, tangled in soft curls, still wet from her shower, her eyes blasting daggers at me. She wore that sexy white piece of a nightdress I had asked Rosa to keep ready for her. It was a pity she had covered it up with the matching robe. I frowned, noting that it had not been part of my instructions. Sometimes I wondered whose side Rosa was on.
“I see you are wearing my gift,” I observed casually while pulling my shirt out of my trousers.
“Your damn payment I wore for myself, in the privacy of my room.”
My mind clouded with images of her touching herself in her white negligee.
Fuck.
“What did you do? Send ten men inside while I was showering? When I left for my shower, all my stuff was there. I come out and apparently, a band of thieves had sneaked everything out and into your room.”
“Something like that,” I said, unbuttoning my shirt.
“Like hell. I can sleep on an empty bed.”
She barged out, leaving me to charge after her. I caught her just before she entered her room, whipping her around and pinning her to the wall with my hands on either side of her. Her back slammed against the wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Why are you so angry all the time, mia cara?”
“Because you…”
“Shhh.” My eyes were drawn to her neck and collarbone, where an angry nerve was in danger of popping. I touched it softly to have her jerk away.
Fuck.
I wanted my wedding night.
“Why?” I muttered.
“Because you get on my nerves all the time,” she hissed.
“Why do I get on your nerves all the time?”
“Because you push my buttons all the fucking time,” she snapped, jabbing her fingers to my chest with every word. I grabbed her hand and held it above her head. She tried to wiggle out of it, which made me capture both her hands.
“Is that what you want? For me to push your buttons?” I suggested, a grin tugging on my lips, misunderstanding her words on purpose.
She huffed. “You know that’s not what I mean, and let me go now.”
I pinned her with my eyes, willing her to stay put. The greens in her eyes were hardly visible now, with her pupils enlarged. Her breathing was heavier. Every time she took a breath, her breasts would gently touch my chest. Swollen and heavy. My wife was aroused.
“Not until you agree to come back to my bed,” I said gruffly, shifting to adjust my dick.
“No.”
