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33
Michael
She blinks once, twice, I watch as the information sinks in, then color smears her cheeks. Her muscles tense and she draws in a breath, "You have got to be kidding me."
She pushes back the chair and jumps to her feet. But I, too, am ready. I spring up, race around the table as she darts for the kitchen door. I grab her arm, turn her around and into me. "Let go of me, you oaf."
She struggles and I hold onto her, trying not to increase the pressure of my hands on her. I don’t want to hurt her. And while I want to mark her, I want it to be intentional, not because I had done so by mistake. "Stop it," I growl.
"Oh, buzz off." I sense her raise her knee and move aside. I grab her around the waist, throw her over my shoulder and she screams, "Bloody hell, what do you think you are trying to do?"
"Only taking what’s mine, by right." I pivot, walk around the breakfast bar and to the dining table. I shove the breakfast dishes aside, then lower her onto it. She tries to rise and I fold my body over hers, slam my hands on either side of her and bracket her in.
"I thought you wanted me to fuck you?"
"That was before."
"Before what?"
"Before we were married."
I blink, "So you were willing to shag me before we were married, and now that we legally can fuck, you don’t want me?"
She tips up her chin, "That’s right."
"Liar." I can’t stop the smile that widens my lips. "You want me to overwhelm you. Want me to hold you down, take choice away from you. You want me to take you by force, isn’t that right?"
She blinks, then glances away.
I freeze. "Merda," I glare at her, "that’s what you want, isn’t it? You want me to play with you before I bed you, Beauty?"
"No," she sets her jaw, "of course, not."
I take in her heightened breathing, her flushed features, the way she darts her gaze around the room then back at me. She may think that’s not what she wants, but I know better. All the signs are there…
Seems this woman is more of my soulmate than I had realized. Every filthy need of mine is reciprocated within her. She wants me to chase her, hunt her down, capture her all over again; she wants me to establish, once and for all, just who is in charge here. The little minx wants me to leave her in no doubt of my dominance. Clearly, the fuckedupedness inside of me has found its match in her. How can she be so…very perfect?
I bare my teeth and she snarls back at me. Goosebumps pop on my skin. Fuck me, but she…is absolutely one-hundred percent in tune with me. She’s mine to possess. Mine to own. Mine to claim. Mine to establish just how very much she belongs to me. Only me.
I push away from the table, only to reach for the tie of her bathrobe. I yank it open and she gasps. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"
"Nothing you are not going to enjoy,piccola mia."
"Go fuck yourself."
I laugh, "Can’t wait to get started, hmm?"
"Buzz off, you ass."
"Gotta stuff that little mouth of yours, and this time it's not going to be with food." I jerk my chin at her, "Get up."
"What?"
"On your feet."
"First, you throw me down here. Now, you tell me to get on my feet. Can’t you fucking make up your mind or—"
I hold out my hand and she squeaks. She stares at my proffered arm, then back up at me, "What are you doing?"
