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“What are you—”
He cut on the shower, then stepped in front of me. “Take off your dress, Emilia.”
I jerked away from him with a glare. “Gio, I am not—”
“Take off the damn dress before I do it for you.”
“Fuck you.”
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose on a hard sigh. My gaze strayed to his flexed bicep, the tension that gripped every muscle.
“I’m trying to help you, princess. For once, just trust me.” Trust him? The idea was ridiculous. Wasn’t it?
“Why would I trust you?” I whispered.
His gaze met mine, cool and steady. “Because I know what you need, and I’m going to give it to you.”
“I don’t want you—”
“Dress, Emilia.” It was a command given by a man who was used to being obeyed.
The silence that descended between us seemed even more punctuated by the hammering of the water over the tile behind me. My lungs felt too tight, the bathroom too small.
“One.”
When he held up a finger, every fiber of my being screamed with indignation. And yet there was this part of me, a part that had been so brutally exposed last night that trusted him, that wanted to obey.
“What happens if you get to three?” I breathed, and I knew those words were a red rag to a bull the second they left my lips.
His eyes flashed. “Bad girls don’t get to come, piccola.”
I sucked in a shaky breath, a little thread of excitement cutting through all the rage that I was so desperately trying to hold onto. Was I really going to do this? The urge to rebel against him warred with the need to just stop thinking and fighting, just to feel. Giovanni was a high that made me forget my bleak reality for a moment, and as his eyes met mine, he promised me oblivion without uttering a single word.
With shaky fingers, I reached for my zip, the sound of it lowering like a gunshot cutting through the room. I wasn’t sure either of us was breathing as I toed this tentative line between lust and fury. The material slipped from my shoulders and pooled at my feet, leaving me in only my thong and the bandage at my thigh. I’d never been naked in front of a man, never been so exposed—physically or emotionally—as I was with him in that moment. Cool air kissed my nipples, and they peaked under his heated gaze. Gio let out a small groan, backing against the vanity, giving me space.
“Now the panties, piccola.” His voice was a deep rasp, and any reticence I might have felt was chased away by the look of pure want on his face.
As I slid the scrap of lace down my legs, his knuckles whitened on the edge of the vanity as though he was physically holding himself in place.
“Get in the shower,” he said through gritted teeth.
I did, stepping under the warmth of the water. Only when the glass door closed did he move, like he needed a shield between us. I felt like prey, trapped in a cage with a monster prowling outside the bars, waiting to eat me.
His fierce gaze burned into me through the misting glass. “Spread your legs, piccola.”
Embarrassment crept in, and I hesitated. I’d never been naked in front of him, yet he wanted me to spread my legs so he could see everything… He cocked a brow and held up two fingers when I didn’t immediately comply. I glared at him, even as a rush of anticipation thrummed through my veins.
“Let me see that pretty pink pussy.”
Fuck, why were his dirty words so hot? The glass between us misted further, and I knew he couldn’t see me clearly. Was that deliberate? It allowed me a little courage, and I spread my legs.
“Good girl.”
Those two words were like a Tazer to my need, and I was right back to last night, desperate to please him, desperate for his touch. “Gio…”
His palm pressed to the glass, his other hand sliding down his body, over each raised ab. “Touch yourself for me, Emilia.”
I hated doing as I was told, but the need to come reignited, as though last night had never stopped. There was something in the way he commanded me that made it so much better than just getting myself off.
When my fingers brushed between my legs, I couldn’t fight the whimper that escaped me.
“Circle that clit for me, princess,” Gio ordered on a ragged groan.
I could barely see him now, but that sound made me want to, need to. Swiping my hand over the glass, I cleared it enough that I could see his boxers shoved down, fist gripping his thick cock. He looked feral, out of control, his frenzy feeding my own. My free hand pressed against his on the other side of the glass, as though I could touch him, feel him.
