“How did your sister leave yourfamilywithout any. . .repercussions?” I ask through his finger zapping my lips. I manage to keep my voice calm even though my composure is anything but.
When Rico lifts his eyes to the rearview mirror, I follow his gaze. The driver doesn’t hide the fact he's eyeballing us. I wouldn’t be surprised if we veered off the road, considering his dark gaze is paying more attention to the rearview mirror than the heavy flow of traffic surrounding us.
A startled squeal rolls up my chest when Rico seizes my wrist and drags me across the dark leather seat. His endeavor of bridging the gap between us doesn't stop until I'm straddled in his lap. My eyes widen when his sudden movements cause the thickness in his trousers to brush the heat between my legs. I don't know if he's aroused, but try as I may, I can't ignore the…umm…girth of his… umm…penis.Grow up, Blaire! You sound like one of your students!
Penis, penis, penis,I chant to myself as I struggle to settle the erratic beat of my heart. Once I’ve gained a small sense of composure, I drop my eyes to Rico. He’s staring straight at me, eyes blazing, heart thumping.
Any chance of calming the wild beat of my heart flies out the window when he says, “Undo the buttons on your blouse, Kitten.”
I bounce my massively dilated eyes between his. “What?”
He runs his hand up my back, only stopping when he reaches the nape of my neck. His touch forces a breathless moan to ashamedly spill from my lips. From a man who is a stranger, he seems to know all the erogenous zones of my body. The most obvious: the portion of skin between my collarbone and neck.
“Do you want to know how my sister left my family?” Rico drags his thumb along my collarbone.
I nod. . . a little overeagerly. I can't help it. Just the warmth of his hand on the nape of my neck has my usually noble persona weakening. When he's close to me, it's like I'm in a trance, stuck captive by his intoxicating eyes and alluring aura.
“Open your blouse, Kitten,” he repeats, his words less demanding than earlier.
Ludicrously, I do as instructed without another protest spilling from my lips.
With teeth-shattering shakes impeding my hands, it takes a little longer to undo the five buttons of my blouse than normal. I'm wearing a fitted white cami beneath my shirt, but I feel naked when it drapes open at the front. My unease has nothing to do with Rico’s absorbing eyes drinking in every inch of my skin, and everything to do with the driver’s imprudent gaze scorching a hole in the back of my head. The only way he could be more involved in our intimate gathering is if he placed himself in the small section of air left between Rico and me. That’s how enthusiastic his spying is.
Keeping his captivating eyes planted on my flushed face, Rico cups one of my breasts in his hand, while his other hand on the nape of my neck draws me in close to him.
“Kiss me, Kitten,” he murmurs against my lips. “I need your lips on mine.”
I stare into his eyes, trying to force my mouth to cite a complaint to his request. Nothing comes out. So, operating purely on the desires of my heart, I cup the edge of his jaw and seal my mouth over his. His lips move sweetly under mine, the strokes of his tongue controlled and gentle. His fingers send a jolt of pleasure down my spine when he firms his grip on my neck and strengthens our kiss. I part my lips more, fully surrendering my mouth to his mind-hazing talent. His kiss is sweet and tender, while also dominating and controlled. He really is the equivalent of night and day, blackness and light. . .enemy and lover.
The roughness of his five o’clock shadow scratches the skin below my ear when he drags his lips down the side of my neck. “You can’t trust anyone, Kitten. Even when they don’t appear to be watching you, they are.” I can only just hear his faint whisper over the mad beat of my heart when he adds on, “Especially me.”
Suddenly, the reasoning behind his brash approach smashes into me. Because of our closeness, the driver can’t hear a word spilling from Rico’s lips. And since we look like every other newlywed couple who can’t keep their hands off each other, he’ll be none the wiser to the private conversation we are undertaking right under his snitching nose.
My heart rate climbs into coronary failure territory. I don't know if it's from Rico's admission that I can’t trust anyone—not even him—or from the way his fingers have tweaked my nipple into a firm bud in mere seconds. For a man who at times can appear cold and heartless, his touch causes a burning heat to scorch every inch of my body.
I'm panting, wet, and waging one of the hardest battles I've ever fought not to rub myself against him like a crazed woman who can't control her libido. The only thing stopping me from carrying out my desire is when Rico continues talking. With how quiet he is, all my energy must be reserved for listening only.
As Rico nips, licks, and kisses my neckline, he tells me the story of how his oldest sister Isabelle was sold after the death of their mother. My heart clutches in my chest when he informs me his sister was only six years old when she was placed on the black market. That's the age of half the students in my class.
When Rico finishes his story, I take a second to gather my bases. It's no easy feat with every nerve in my body solely dedicated to Rico’s lips still attached to my neck. But even with my brain muddled with both fear and excitement, my conclusion about the information handed to me never alters. If the only way a blood descendant can leave Rico’s family is being sold, what happens to someone who doesn’t have a drop of Popov blood running through their veins? What happens to people like me?
Like he can hear my private thoughts, Rico mutters, “No one willeverhurt you, Kitten. Not while you’re with me.”
Before I have the chance to ask if his statement includes himself, the Escalade pulls into a private air strip on the outskirts of Ravenshoe. After speaking to Rico in a foreign language, the driver climbs out of the car and stands guard at the side. The stern mask Rico wears in front of his crew slowly slides down his face as he adjusts my disheveled blouse back onto my shoulders. Remaining quiet, he fastens the buttons into place.
Once I'm semi-respectable—my outfit, not my mind—Rico locks his dark gaze with mine. “Is Colt going to be a problem?”
My tongue grows thicker from the blackness forming in Rico’s eyes. “No.” I shake my head. “Colt has only ever been a friend.” Not through any choice of my own, but I’ll keep that snippet of information to myself.
His Adam's apple bobs up and down. ”Okay. Good. Because I don't share."
“Duly noted,” I reply, my voice disgustingly chipper.
What the hell is wrong with me? I'm being forced to leave my hometown against my will, yet I'm happy my husband is refusing to share me with another man. Screw my mind, a lifetime of morals was lost the instant I stepped off the plane in Vegas.
I’m not the only one stunned by my reply. Rico stares at me, his face a cross between shocked and delighted.
With a predatory smirk etched on his mouth, he curls out of the Escalade. Since I'm still sitting in his lap, he takes me right along with him. The vileness of my predicament smacks back into me when Rico places me onto my feet and walks into a heavily manned airport hangar. When I'm with Rico one-on-one, I forget he’s shrouded by an impenetrable cloud of darkness. It's just me and him—the stranger I married.
