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“You’re prettier when you’re quiet.”

Taking that as her cue to stop flapping her jaw, she went back to work. Alex grabbed an angled brush and dipped it into orange paint that reminded me of a sunset. She leaned forward, oblivious to her tits spilling out from her bra, the lace doing nothing to hide her nipples. Fuck, I wanted to suck the tiny buds into my mouth until she screamed my name.

Why did I have to feel something for her? Even if that feeling was a mixture of hatred and lust. But there were times, like this one, when something unfamiliar stirred in my belly. A foreign emotion I hadn’t experienced since my mother was alive.

Neither of us had a choice. We had to marry, produce heirs, make our families happy. I hated having that obligation. But when Alex looked at me, like she was gazing deep into my soul, a sense of calm washed over me. It was intimate, emotional, and so damn heartbreaking. Because I knew I could never give her what she deserved.

She had my mother’s gift, the ability to see what people were hiding.

I studied the canvas. “Is that…” I dropped to the floor in front of her. “Is that me?”

She looked to me for approval. “Do you like it?”

“It’s brilliant,” I whispered in disbelief. “How do you do that?”

My voice sounded distant, unsure of my question, even though I wanted an answer.

She peeked up at me. “Do what?”

I blew out a deep breath. “Make me feel like she’s still here.”

“It’s an artist’s job to make you feel something.”

I cupped the side of her face, my fingers brushing her skin. “That’s the problem with you.”

She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Are we still talking about art?”

I pushed fallen strands of hair behind her ear, breathing against her lips. A trail of heat rushed down my arms and spread throughout my body like wildfire. I grabbed her curls between my fingers and pulled her mouth to mine. She sucked in a few deep breaths as our eyes met.

The usual hesitation was in her eyes, settling deep into her bones. She felt the same way about me as I did her. We hated how much we wanted each other. But we could not deny that once our lips collided and our tongues tangled, we were fucking made for each other.

She was everything I wanted, everything I craved. The balance to my madness, the angel on my shoulder when I wanted to do nothing but sin. My inner demons were screaming, begging to come out and play. I slipped my fingers through her hair as she climbed onto my lap, wrapping her thighs around me.

“Luca,” she moaned as I kissed her neck before I made my way up to her jaw.

“I know how much you’re fighting this,” I said between kisses. “Because I’m doing the same.”

She sighed. “There’s something wrong with both of us.”

“Don’t I know it.”

I licked and sucked on her skin, nibbling her hot flesh with each moan I stole from her. Throwing her arms around my neck, she rocked her hips to meet mine, desperate to create friction between us. My cock pressed against my zipper, itching to be free as she rubbed her pussy against me.

“Baby girl.” I bit her lip, and she moaned. “Keep grinding on my cock like this, and I won’t be responsible for what comes next.”

“You’re not taking my virginity on this floor.”

Alex’s virginity had remained intact because I made it so. Throughout her high school years, I had ensured no one touched her. I did the same when she was in art school, chasing off artsy fuckers who wanted a piece of her.

Like a piece of fine art, I wanted to preserve Alex. Make her mine. But she would never be mine alone, not after she learned about her role among The Devil’s Knights. So, for now, I was keeping her to myself. I’d wait as long as I could to marry her.

“Who said anything about fucking?” I gripped her shoulder, pushing her onto her back. “I’d rather you ride my face and let me taste your sweet pussy.”

She giggled, shoving her fingers through my hair. “You’re such a bad boy, Luca.”

“I never claimed to be anything else.”

My tongue swept into her mouth as I slid my hand up her bare stomach and pinched her nipples over the bra.

“Luca,” she whispered. “Please.”

I sucked her lip into my mouth. “Patience, my queen.”

“Touch me,” she choked out between breaths. “I can’t stand it anymore.”

This was the closest we had ever come to sex. She was always so guarded, afraid to let me in, and that was all my fault. I hid parts of myself, locked them up, and threw away the key long before we even met.

I twisted her nipple between my fingers, and she squealed. “I am touching you. You need to learn self-control, my little devil.”

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