Page 21 of Lust


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I shiver. Although I’m not afraid of him. And it’s not because of some safeword. It’s because I know he won’t hurt me—not beyond what I can handle—not physically, anyway. I don’t know how I’m so sure, but I am. Emotionally, though, I’m not sure of anything when it comes to him.

“What will you do after you shatter me? Sweep the pieces into a dust pan and dump them into the trash?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll build back the walls, with grand doorways and floor-to-ceiling windows, where the light streams in.”

“I never imagined you as someone who believes in fairy tales.”

“I don’t,Princesa. But I know how to get things done. And I believe in you. In your strength. In your goodness. In your resiliency.”

He pauses for a beat, and for a moment I’m sure his mouth is going to crash into mine. But it doesn’t.Maybe I’m the one who believes in fairy tales.

“How will you stop me if it gets to be too much? Say the word.”

“Red.”

“Say it again.”

I lift my chin and meet his eyes. “Red.” It emerges clear as day. A fiery splash of color, with magical powers. I see it, but I don’t feel it.

He nods, gazing at me. “Don’t be afraid to use it.”

16

DANIELA

With deft fingers, Antonio untethers a few buttons of my tunic. But he’s in no hurry.Even a hungry cat plays with his food.

The leisurely exploration continues, until the snow-white lace winks at him from under my shirt. His breath hitches as he skates a thumb across the intricate fabric. I feel it between my legs—small pulses of anticipation and need.

“You’re mine,” he says, without apology. “Your pain, your sorrow, your tears—I want it. And you’re going to give it all to me.Everything.If you struggle to hold any of it back, to keep any part of it to yourself, I’ll punish you until you’re sobbing for mercy. I’ll be ruthless.”

His mouth brushes mine. The tender kiss is a startling contrast to the menace of the threat.

“Do you understand?”

My lips part, and my head bobs once or twice. His words are perilous, but his voice is seductive. He’s reeling me in. I sense it. But I don’t resist—not until my conscience pricks, and I remember Valentina.And Isabel.Was she afraid when she died?Was it a painful end?I know so few details of her death.As the realization floods me, every muscle in my body tightens.

He feels it too.

“Already? It’s going to be a long day if I start punishing you now. But maybe that’s what you want.”

I do.I deserve to be punished for seeking comfort in his body while Valentina is in danger.What kind of mother behaves this way?

“Stop overthinking,” he demands. “Stop thinking at all.” It’s the last thing he says before tearing my shirt from my body. The tiny buttons sail through the air and bounce off the floor, scattering in every direction. Apart from the rumble in his chest, the patter of the buttons is the only sound in the room.

I invited the beast to play. Now he’s here, and the energy throbbing around him is a tempest. I doubt there’s a word, in any language, powerful enough to stop him.Red? What a joke.

My bra is gone before I blink, and his large hands are on my breasts, palming the taut flesh, his thumbs coaxing the nipples into tight peaks. He lowers his mouth, sweeping it over my throat. I surrender to the delicious sensations, letting him distract me with his skill.

I’m adrift in pleasure when he sinks his teeth into my neck, right intothatcord. I shudder and try to pull away at the heightened sensation. But he cages my legs with his, holding me firmly in place while he laves the tendon with soothing kisses that ease the bruised skin.

I let down my guard, again, and follow him to a place where there is only dreamy bliss. And want.So much want.

I long for the cock that’s thickening between us.I need it.It’s all I can think about. That and his clean, masculine scent that permeates every breath I take. My head whirls as he leads me astray, until there is only him. His touch. His heartbeat. His need.My need.

The evil pinch comes right then. When I least expect it.

“Ahhh!”A tortured cry escapes into the room. But he doesn’t stop. My nipples scream between his callused fingers, as his mouth works magic on my throat. Gentle and rough. Tender and coarse. My nerve endings are swaying in every direction—all at once. If he wasn’t holding me steady, I would be a puddle on the bare floor.

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