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I come to a stop, my heart freezing mid-beat. “I didn’t say that.”
“You did.”
“Whendid I say that?”
“You admitted you want my kiss. That’s the same thing.”
“It’s not,” I deny immediately.
“Don’t make me prove you a liar, Em.”
“I told you that I’d rather you call me Emilia.”
“Too bad. I refuse to call you the same name you let another man call you, so Em it is.”
“Let another man call me? Are you for real?” I huff.
In answer, Niko tugs on my hand and pulls me to him.
“I’m your fiancé. Maybe it’s time we both start acting like it.” His eyes bore into mine and I bite my lip. I’ve never seen this much emotion from Niko. I’m not sure how to deal with it.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to admit this isn’t going to work?” I whisper after moistening my lips and trying to push my panic aside. I’m not afraid of Niko physically, but this is something else entirely.
“Is your basis for thinking this isn’t going to work because you mistakenly think I don’t want you?”
My heart stutters in my chest for the millionth time.
“There’s a lot of reasons,” I finally answer.
“But this one is the one that is foremost in that pretty head of yours isn’t it, Emilia?”
His fingers disengage from mine, but before I can take a breath of relief, his hand snakes along the side of my neck. He proceeds to tilt my head so that I’m forced to look at him.
“Niko,” I whisper.
“That’s it, my delicious, Em. Say my name.”
He leans in closer. Almost against my will, my eyes begin to close as I feel his breath against my skin. Then, his lips are on mine. My body goes rigid. I don’t know what’s going on or what to expect. Niko doesn’t have any such hesitation. His lips move against mine—lips that are softer than I ever would have imagined. He doesn’t try to deepen the kiss, at least not at first. Instead, he seems to tease my lips, tasting them, nipping at them with his teeth—nibbling to crank up the heat moving through me. He sucks my bottom lip, capturing it, and then soothing my tender flesh with his tongue. My body trembles with the effort to breathe. A whimpering noise escapes before I can stop it. I can only hope that he didn’t hear me. That hope disappears when he pulls away. I force my eyes to open. He’s smiling down at me. “Niko…”
“That’s my good girl,” he purrs, making my body vibrate.
His mouth comes back down, and I gasp as his tongue slides into my mouth and begins exploring. I can do nothing but hold onto him, my fingernails biting into his skin, my tongue following his lead. I’m his prisoner in this kiss—hisverywilling prisoner.
CHAPTER15
Niko
“You wanted to see me boss?”
Victorio walks in and he’s normally good at hiding his thoughts, but there’s no mistaking the fact that he’s nervous.He should be.
“Have a seat,” I murmur as I put my phone down. I lean back in Maxwell’s seat and stare the other man down. I’ve made it clear that where Emilia is concerned, I’m in control. Borrowing this office is just another way to reinforce that. I normally wouldn’t fool with shit like this. At this point, I’d just beat it into the asshole. I figure I’m already on thin ice with Emilia. I don’t want to make that worse. Last night while having dinner with her, I discovered that I’ve been handling things with her all wrong. It never occurred to me that she would see me with Katherine. It’s not like Emilia goes out a lot. I know that Maxwell keeps her close to home. Still, I hate that she saw me with another woman. I regret that, but there’s not much I can do. There was no way I was going to be celibate while waiting for her to grow up. I honestly didn’t think it would bother her one way or another. I should have realized that because Emilia is so young, her heart is more tender than I imagined. Maxwell kept saying that she was practical and knew how things in this world worked. I guess I bought into it, but it’s clear that was the wrong thing to do.
I’m mad at myself. Emilia is young and that means the world hasn’t hardened her. She still believes in fairytales. I shouldn’t want to preserve that, but I find I do. There’s an innocence inside of her that is refreshing. Hell, my life has been about wallowing in the mire with the dregs of humanity. You can pretty it up, maybe slip a suit on, but in the end, most of the men I deal with are like Dante—rotting corpses underneath the skin.
“I do,” I respond, leaning up on the desk with my elbows and bringing my hands up in a steeple type fashion while staring at him. “We need to discuss Emilia.”
“Boss, I swear, I know she belongs to you. I don’t see her like that. She’s sweet and needs a friend. That’s all.”
