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The maid says something about supper being served in the Blue Room, and I listen vaguely to the two of them talk while hurriedly gulping air back into my lungs. I honestly didn't even realize I was holding my breath the entire time he was speaking. It's as if the darkly inviting sound of Cesare's voice had me under a spell, and every word he's silkily let slip is a new layer of seductive entrapment.
You can't let him get to you like that again, dude!
My head starts to hurt as I try to mentally regroup. I can't believe it was just hours ago when I was so desperately starving...that I had seriously planned to mug a (seemingly but not really) defenseless old woman.
That was justhoursago, for heaven's sake, but here I am now, feeling a shamefully different kind of hunger, and all because Cesare Marchetti said 'cock' and 'pussy' in the same breath.
C'mon, dude!
I grit my teeth and tell myself I'll do better, but as soon as Cesare turns to face me again, my body betrays me anew, and my pussy starts getting wet like it's turned into his personal faucet of desire.
Shiiiiiiit!
"You're blushing, my Penelope."
I wish I could say he needs to have his eyes checked, but I can't. The heat burning my cheeks is impossible to deny, and him calling mehisPenelope only makes me blush even harder.
How in the world have we gotten to this point?We were supposed to have a serious discussion about what our marriagemaybe like,ifit pushes through, but the only thing that the past few minutes has made clear is how my wildly wanton body is not to be trusted at all.
"Would you like to tell me why?"
Never.
"Or perhaps you'd prefer I make a guess," he teases.
Nope.
"Is it possible...that you're blushing because you've finally realized how filthy fucking good it would feel...when we become each other's owner in marriage?"
Yes! No!I mean, I don't know at all, with how diabolically good he is at using really dirty words to mess with my senses.
When I ran away from my foster home, I already knew to expect the worst once I became homeless, and I think that was what helped me survive my first few days in the streets.
I knew what I was getting into that time...unlike now.
Nothing in this world has prepared me for the reality of having to match wits with Boston's underworld royalty—-or resisting the wiles of a smolderingly hotmafiaboss like Cesare Marchetti.
Everything that's happened today has completely blindsided me, and I have the craziest urge to laugh and cry when Cesare offers me his hand, and I realize how absolutely none of the thoughts racing in my mind has to do with rejecting his touch.
This man already owns me.
But can I really believe him when he says he'll also be mine?
