I raise a brow.
She chuckles. “I thought it would take you more time to fall in love with me again.”
“You thought wrong. It took me ten minutes to fall for you.” I look up at the decorative ceiling lights I hung myself. “That is, if you don’t mind calling my obsession love. It’s the only way I know how to love.”
She kisses my throat. “I don’t mind at all.”
She presses her head back to my chest.
I trace her bare back with my fingers. “What if it means I won’t let you go—even if you want to?”
She sighs and murmurs sleepily, “That’s the last thing I’d ever want.”
How I wish that were the truth.
Chapter 19
Elowen
Salvario—aka Hunter—is insufferable.
I never thought there’d come a day when I’d say that, but here we are.
This man gets jealous of everything, from lifeless objects to any celebrity I call handsome. Just two days ago, I said Daniel Frens was handsome while we were watching his latest action thriller, and Hunter’s first reaction was to glare at him with enough fury for the man to feel it from miles away. I bet that actor had a nightmare that night. Then he turned off the movie and asked me a hundred times who’s handsome while giving me orgasms until I blacked out.
I’m learning many new things about him, the possessiveness being one. Another is that people avoid looking into his eyes, whether it’s my bodyguards or random people in the neighborhood.
Logan has an explanation for it: according to him, Hunter is the reincarnation of the Grim Reaper, and whenever peoplelook into his eyes, they see their own demise. That’s a joke, but there’s some truth to it, like him being the infamous Butcher of Naples.
There’s an old saying: those who kill too many have their souls turn black. And since eyes are the window to the soul, people see his black soul, which I suppose is frightening. I’ve never had a problem with it, though.
But him being scary has its disadvantages, like people not wanting to come close to him. And since he keeps me glued to his side, they don’t come close to me either.
Before him, when I attended parties, I used to make small talk with everyone. Now the rest of the world just leaves us alone in our own bubble. Logan has taken over my place. He’s a people person, warm and easy to talk to. Right now, a group of five young women are gathered around him.
We’re at the neighborhood’s New Year’s party, held in the biggest park in our area. It’s beautifully decorated, with lights strung between the trees in gold and white, casting a warm glow over the open space. A small stage at the far end has a live band playing soft, festive music. The whole park smells of pine and roasted chestnuts.
Everyone is enjoying themselves in their groups. Many new families are being introduced around, and I’m watching them from a peaceful spot, since no one bothered me and the man who has his hand wrapped around my waist, my body pressed to him—after we exchanged a few pleasantries.
“I think if you smiled more, people would find you more approachable,” I tease, lifting the corner of his mouth with my finger.
He attempts a fake smile under my prodding, which only makes him look more frightening. He can’t do this like my cousins and brother, they’re experts at fake smiles.
I chuckle. “You’re impossible.”
“Does it bother you that people don’t like me?”
I wrap my arms around his neck. “Nope. I just find it boring being at a party where no one wants to come near us.”
He looks around. “Then let’s go home. We can do much better things there.”
I roll my eyes playfully. “Your better things involve only one thing.”
He leans down, brushing his nose against my jaw. “Not only one. Eating your sweet pussy is one, fucking it with my fingers is two, making you beg for my cock is three—”
I shove against his chest, actually, I sway against it, since my legs have suddenly gone too weak to hold me. “Shut up, Hunter.”
A satisfied smile lights up his face at the sight of my blush.
