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“Oh, just the people you kidnap for?” I can’t help but tease him.
“Something like that,” he grumbles.
“So you work for a certain family? Which?”
He doesn’t respond.
“Do you like this family you work for?” If he doesn't, maybe I could talk him out of all of this. Though that could mean his death. I’m sure he has some contract to follow through with. I don’t take Fernando as a man that is the head of some big family.
No, he’s a man of few words and brute force. He does things that need to be done or handled. I bet he is very valuable to some family out there. When we’d been at the store, people would practically run from any aisle that we entered. It hadn’t bothered Fernando, but it had me. People treat him differently without knowing what a sweet gentleman he really is.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” It’s strange. Some questions he’ll answer easily, while others he avoids altogether.
“Not yet.”
“Fine.” I huff. He already said he won’t hand me over to the Frangiones, but if he gives me back to my father, it would be the same as giving me to them. My stomach starts to turn thinking about going back there.
I know I haven’t been gone long, but everything is so different out here. I can’t go back. I told Fernando I would be the perfect kidnapped person, but I’m not so sure about that anymore. He’s given me too much freedom. A taste of something I’ve never had before.
Another plan starts to form in my head. Fernando might not want to marry me, but I’ve caught a few of the glances he’s shot my way. I remember his erection pressing into my back. He must have some kind of desire for me, even if it is small. What if I could make him fall in love with me?
“Fernando, can I ask one more thing?”
“Yes.” Oh, finally a yes for once.
“I want to choose something for myself. For it to not be taken from me.” I walk over to him, placing my hands on his chest. He tenses under my touch. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. I lick my lips. “Will you kiss me?”
7
BUTCHER
Akiss?
My palms go sweaty, my mind suddenly spinning. I’ve been asked for mercy, for a reprieve, for a quick death–but I’ve never been asked for a kiss.
I don’t think I can do this. I don’t even knowhowto do this.
She looks up at me, her doe eyes expectant as she glances at my mouth. Her palms on my chest send waves of heat through me, and I can’t seem to back away from her.
No one touches me. I don’t like it. Never have. Whatever situation I’m in, I’m the one holding the reins. Part of that death grip on control is that no oneevergets close enough to touch me. I don’t fucking allow it. I have them hogtied and bleeding before they ever get the chance to lay a finger on me.
But Bianca–she’s not my usual victim. She’s not a victim at all. In fact, I think I’m the one in danger right now, not her, because when she touches me, I go weak. So weak that I’d do anything to keep her hands on me, to keep her looking at me like I’m someone to be loved instead of someone to be feared. The desire she stokes in me is dangerous, and it’s the sort of raw weakness I’ve avoided all my life.
“You don’t have to,” she says softly, her gaze still on my lips like a touch.
Before I can think it through, before I can thinkat all, I lean down and press my lips to hers. Her breath catches in her throat, her hands curling against my chest.
I pull back, uncertainty blooming in my mind, but desire overwhelms it, and I kiss her again. Harder this time, my tongue demanding a taste.
She opens her mouth, a moan against my lips, and I grab her waist, pulling her against me as I swipe my tongue past her lips.
That’s when something inside me seems to erupt, a need like I’ve never felt entering my veins quicker than any drug. I delve my tongue deeper, tasting her and feeling her as I clutch her to me, my hands greedy to feel her.
She twines her hands around my neck, and I lift her, backing her against the wall. I get a better angle, tonguing her as she kisses me back, her body wanting mine in a primal way I can feel all the way to the bottom of my balls. My cock presses into her stomach, demanding a whole lot more than just a kiss.
I grip her ass with one hand, palming it and squeezing as she makes a high-pitched sound in her throat. She’s warm and delicious, her taste like a sweet plum that hints at tartness but never quite makes it. I could kiss her for hours, could explore this new sensation until the world came to an end.
But I have to pull away, have to let her breathe as I stare into her eyes.
