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He presses a finger against my lips to silence me. “I understand your worry.” He takes my hand and drags me to the bathroom, flipping on the shower. He engulfs me in his arms, and I sink into his wide muscular chest. The steam fills the room, and we step inside the stall, the firm pressure of the water hitting my back.
“I can promise you it isn’t your family. They are safe.”
I blow out a breath and nod, not wanting to separate myself from him just yet. “You’re sure? You promise?”
“I’m sure and I promise on my life,” he says, kissing my forehead.
I’m used to people in my life breaking promises they make, and I find myself hoping Ari isn’t one of them.
Chapter Twenty
Ari
I’m annoyed.
I’ve had the best night of my life and woke up to the taste of my wife coming on my tongue. I’ve been the only man inside her, the only man to be given the privilege of knowing what she feels like, the way she sounds, gasps, and moans with every slide of my cock.
Or my tongue.
Or my hands.
I’m the only man who knows how soft her skin is or how wicked her tongue can be when she’s protecting herself.
It’s all mine.
Her rage, her pain, her confusion, her pleasure, her happiness.
It all belongs to me.
Power like that can be dangerous in the hands of a man like me, but it’s also very addicting and very rewarding.
I’m annoyed because while I was experiencing all these wonderful emotions, my brother interrupted everything, and I nearly blew his head off without thinking. My ears are still ringing from being in such a small room and a gunshot going off.
But the idea of anyone seeing my wife naked makes me murderous.
She’s all mine and she proved that last night. No one has else the privilege.
I turn off the shower and step out first, snagging a towel from the heated rack before wrapping it around her first. I dry her off, taking my time to enjoy her body, taking in every mark and bruise I left on her last night.
Rosie is magnificent when she’s marked.
My attention falls to her hand, the plain gold band sparking possessiveness and rage. The ring shows she’s mine, but there’s no engagement ring, no beautiful big diamond that’s too big for her finger that she can flash around, daring any man to come near her because they won’t be able to give her better.
I’ll need to remedy that.
My feelings for Rosie have grown fast and hard, but I’m not surprised. I was always the Milazzo who felt quickly which is why I’m quick to joke and humor. It’s easy to cover up feelings that way so no one mistakes the ability to feel so deeply as a weakness.
But god, I’m already consumed by Rosie. She’s maddening and daring, challenging me to levels of insanity only an enemy would threaten.
She’s my reckoning, the one person to bring me to my fucking knees.
“How do you feel?” I ask her, tucking the end of the towel in so it’s secured around her.
“Good. Sleepy. A little sore,” she muses, snagging another towel to dry her hair.
A grumble of delight escapes me and knowing she’s sore because of me has me pinning her against the wall, stealing her lips in another kiss and robbing her lungs of every bit of air they hold.
“And I’ll make sure you stay that way.” I nip at her bottom lip, brushing my thumb across the swollen flesh. Fuck. I want her.
