Page 47 of Wrong Pawn. Right Capo.

His face contorts painfully. The devil now has a conscience. Fucking great.

“Elena…”

“Take your filthy hypocrisy elsewhere,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “I’m not going anywhere with you…”

“We’re leaving, Elena. That’s a fucking command.” His voice resounds loudly across the empty hallway, stilling both Puddles and me. But I manage to lift my chin.

“I said no.”

He cusses thickly, then runs a hand through his hair in frustration. I half expect him to haul me over his shoulder and take me forcefully, but the next thing he does stuns me. He closes the distance between us and crushes his lips against mine.

I’m stupid. So fucking stupid. I should hate him for ruining everything. I should be angry… slap him, throw a tantrum. But I find myself pressing deeper into the kiss with renewed urgency, lacing my arms around his neck as tightly as I can.

He returns the favor, arms wrapping tightly around me, his rough hands sliding down the length of my back and neck. Then slowly, he peels back, staring at me with a hint of…pain? Restraint?

“Stop me now,” he whispers, brushing a stray strand from my face.

My teary eyes lift to his. “No.”

He crashes his lips to mine roughly, his teeth scraping my lower lip, his tongue pushing its way into my mouth while his hands lock firm on my neck and hip, anchoring me in place.

My hands are fisting in his hair, grabbing on as if my life depends on it. He snatches my hands away, pinning them behind me and spinning me around until my breasts are pressed against the wall and his hard dick is shoved into my back.

“I’m done playing games. You’re mine, Elena. Mine!” he roars against my ear.

I struggle to rub my ass against his dick as his fingers fist into my hair, his teeth scraping my neck. Somehow, my anger returns.

“You’re the last person who’ll ever own me.”

I turn around forcefully, eyes blazing with fury. “You’re nothing but a sick—”

His lips snatch mine up again, and I push myself back. “…lying—”

His hands grab my breasts. “…bastard—” I groan, my breath heaving, my eyes snapping shut right as I catch the cruel amusement in his eyes.

“You were saying?” He smirks, his fingers pinching and kneading my nipples over the fabric of my night top until there’s a flood between my legs.

My head knows his hands shouldn’t be on me, but my body wants it more than anything I’ve ever wanted.

My fingers reach to tear the buttons off his shirt, but he quickly pulls back, a dark chuckle resounding through the empty hallway.

“I do the touching, Principessa. Lay your hands on me again, and you’ll get a good spanking,” he threatens, his eyes narrowing into slits.

Red flushes my cheeks and neck in anger. “Spanking?” I laugh dryly. “You wouldn’t dare, Adrian…”

His hand reaches in between my thighs, rubbing furiously at my clit through the thin cotton of my night shorts. “The name’s Adriano. Say it.”

A mischievous smile tugs at my lips. “Funny. The man I know is Adrian Cole.”

“Oh, you’re so damn wrong.” He spins me around again, pushing my torso until my ass is high in the air. Then he delivers the first smack. The impact reverberates through my legs, tingling all the way to my toes. He yanks the shorts from my waist in one fluid movement, swiping his finger across my clit to test for wetness.

And boy, am I dripping.

My palms stretch flat on the floor, bracing me for the next impact as I hear his belt clatter to the ground beside him.

He swirls the tip of his cock on the slick wetness of my pussy, drawing a groan from my lips. Blood rushes to my head as his hardness probes my opening.

“Now you beg for me.” His voice is husky now, laced with desire.