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“And you taste like fucking innocence.”
I snatched my hand away like he’d burned me, taking a step back.
He followed, stalking me into the room like prey. “Were you thinking of me while you fingered that sweet pussy, Emilia?”
“No.”
His teeth scraped his bottom lip. “Liar.”
I folded my arms over my chest as though they could shield me from the sexual tension winding through me. “What do you want, Giovanni?” My voice sounded thready, unsure.
“Aside from you… The doctor is here for Tommy. She’s going to come in here in a minute and talk to you.”
I didn’t need a doctor. “About what?”
“Birth control.”
I laughed despite the spike in my temper. “Since when do you get to make decisions about my body?”
He moved so fast, I didn’t see him coming. He fisted my hair and jerked back my head until I was staring up at him, plastered to his hard chest. “Since you let me inside it.”
My palm landed on his chest, nails digging into his shirt and the skin beneath, wishing I could hurt him, wanting to mark him as deeply as he’d marked me.
He nipped my throat, hot breaths prickling over the skin. “Since you begged me to fuck you.” A warm swipe of his tongue. “Since you became mine.”
“That was before—”
“I meant what I said. I will marry you and have you in every way. I want your body, your heart, your fucking soul, but I don’t want a child with you.”
My chest squeezed in a way it had no right to. I didn’t even want this marriage. I definitely didn’t want a baby, did I? No. It was everything I was running from—a mafia broodmare.
“It’s a null point, seeing as I’m never fucking you again,” I snapped. I raked my gaze over him, and though the man was perfection personified, I tried to look as though I found him lacking.
His breath trickled over my face, his lips just a whisper from mine, and my pulse banged in my ears, desperate, needing. “Never is a long time, piccola. And we both know your hand is a poor substitute. As is mine for your perfect pussy.”
Oh God, I could barely breathe. I hated him. “You’re right. You should probably go get it elsewhere.” I kept my voice level and even tried to convince myself that was what I wanted.
I imagined him going to that club and fucking that blonde. Bending her over his desk, whispering dirty words into her ear. Calling her a good girl. I inhaled a deep breath, fighting the red-hot jealousy that robbed me of reason. Judging by the smirk on his face, though, he’d seen it.
Part of me wanted him to do it, wanted him to hurt me more and prove me right. Prove that he was not someone I should love, not someone I could trust. Because it seemed that threatening to kill my brother and me wasn’t enough. Even though I knew he would pick the mafia over me time and time again, just as my father had.
“Is that what you want, Emilia? For me to fuck someone else?” His free hand went to the small of my back, snapping me against his hard body. And it was hard everywhere. He ground his length against me, and I couldn’t help the gasp that left my lips. “For me to touch her like this?”
His lips whispered over my throat, and I shivered, even as anger consumed me.
“To kiss her…” He pressed his lips to mine, bowing my spine as he forced his tongue inside my mouth.
And I kissed him back, an angry clash of tongue and teeth that sent blood roaring through my veins.
I should have stopped it, pushed him away, but I didn’t. I was weak for him, and he knew it. Crippled beneath the onslaught of lust and the desperate need for him to want me. Even when he’d caused me pain. I wished I could cut him out like the disease he was.
I bit him hard, and he groaned before pulling away. A drop of blood welled on his bottom lip, and he swiped it away with his tongue. I felt alive for the first time in days, that familiar violence swirling between us a visceral thing.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“Take it as whatever you want. I don’t want you, so fuck whoever you like.” The words felt like acid on my tongue, but I held his gaze. Prove me right. Prove you’re unworthy of this fucking heartache I feel for you.
His jaw tensed, eyes flashing. “Fine. If that’s what you really want?”
“It is.”
I wondered if I’d pushed him too far as he turned for the door. “Do as the doctor says, or you won’t like the consequences.” Then he left me, panting and shaking, trying to calm my racing heart. Controlling asshole.
