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“No,” she said softly, glancing at her lap as if embarrassed.
I shifted in my seat, gently sliding my hand under her chin and turning her head. Her eyes opened wide, so doe-like that my cock twitched. She was insanely beautiful, my balls tightening. “Your father?”
Her eyes opened even wider than before, fear tearing through them. Motherfucker. What kind of father hit his own daughter?
“Where is he? I’ll take care of him for you,” I told her, meaning every word.
“No!” She clawed at me as she’d done before, leaning in as her eyes searched mine. The scent of her was intoxicating, floral yet mixed with a vibrant hint of vanilla and other spices. “You can’t do that. He’s dangerous. He’ll hurt you.” Her voice was imploring but not nearly as much as her sultry voice. She was shaking her head slightly, as if a heavy burden would be placed on her shoulders if I dared consider helping her.
I allowed my gaze to fall down the length of her face, concentrating on her plump lips, a mouth I wanted to kiss.
It was obvious she had no clue who or what I was. That made the electric connection that much sweeter.
“I assure you, princess, that I would come out victorious.”
“You don’t know who he is. He’ll kill you.”
Chuckling, I folded my fingers, rubbing my knuckles across her cheek as gently as possible. I wasn’t known for my tender touches, my needs crossing into the realm of true sadist years before. But with her, I wanted to be gentle, careful so I didn’t terrify her even more, or cause a single bruise to her lovely skin.
She glared at me through thick eyelashes and for a few seconds I felt powerless, drawn into her beauty like a moth to a flame. That wasn’t a good idea, my enemies always searching for a single weakness, but here I was unable to take my eyes off her.
As if she’d already become my possession.
“And you don’t know who I am,” I told her.
“Who are you?”
“A dangerous man.”
“Then why do I feel so protected?”
I wanted to tell her that it was because she was a fool, blinded by the fact someone had offered a helping hand. But I didn’t. What point would that make? “What do you want me to do?”
“I… don’t know.” She lowered her gaze, darting another roll of her tongue across her lower lip.
“I think you do, princess.” I wasn’t a man who held back under any circumstances. If I wanted something, I took it. I’d enjoyed my share of beautiful women, but so many of them were plastic versions of their former selves, hiding the ugliness of their flaws behind plastic surgery and thousands spent on what my sister liked to call paint and body work. This girl was entirely different, classy and innocent, the combination irresistible.
Either she hadn’t accepted or didn’t care I was likely more dangerous than the cretin who’d smacked her, born of the same tainted blood.
“Chrissy. My name is Chrissy.”
“Then, I think you do, Chrissy. Tell me what you want.” I lifted her chin, the ache between my legs increasing as my balls tightened.
“You’re very handsome.”
“You think I’m handsome?” In a world where appearing scary was considered a positive attribute, hearing her praise was strangely appealing.
“Very much but you already knew that. What’s your name?”
“It’s best you don’t know.”
She opened then closed her fingers around my shirt, using the leverage to pull herself closer. “I want to know. Please tell me.”
At that moment I felt like some psychopath, staring into the eyes of raw innocence. I was almost certain that just my presence would taint her purity. The thought was ridiculous but almost overwhelming. And still, the draw to her was so powerful that pulling away would cause unwanted pain. How fucked up was that?
She had no idea what her breathless voice did to me. “Francesco. Now, tell me what you desire, little princess.”
“A new life.”
