Page 35 of Stolen Bride
As much as I need space from him, I also need answers. There’s nothing for me to do outside the room anyway, so I sit on the bed and wait. He doesn’t keep me in suspense for long.
With a dark sneer, he says, “I’m surprised you’re still there.”
“Why? You act as though I have anything else to do.”
“Yes, my home is so boring, Angel.” He rolls his eyes.
“Listen, Mr. Valentino. Why don’t we just get this over with now? You can file for divorce already. It’s not like it matters to you anyway. I appreciate you stopping that horrible marriage and introducing me to the world of hot sex, but since those are both over, I can go on my merry way and find a real life and husband somewhere else.”
He’s on me in a second, eyes darkened, hand on my throat with enough force to hold me in place but not completely cutting off my air. “You’re my wife until I say so, and you will not dare mention another man in my bed ever again.”
How dare he? It’s like a slap in the face to be left in limbo. “Why? You don’t touch me. You don’t want me after you find them, so what does it matter?”
“You want me to touch you, Wife? You want me to fuck you?” I bite down on my lip, damn near drawing blood. He tugs my lip free from my teeth’s grip.
“Don’t bite what’s mine, Amore.” His mouth crashes down on mine, roughly taking my breath away.
I rip my lips away and hiss, “I’m not yours.”
Damiano’s hand on my throat tightens while the other grips my wrist, lifting my hand up to my face. “This says otherwise.” The shiny diamond ring is nothing but a mockery to me.
Staring into his stormy gray eyes, I remind him of his words. “It’s temporary.”
“Keep pushing me, Angel.” He pins me to the bed with his firm body holding me down.
“What are you going to do? Show me how much you’re just like the animals you saved me from?”
“No, I’m going to give you just what you want,” he groans, dropping his lips to mine again and brutally kissing my lips, and I can’t fight the longing. My thighs easily part, wanting and craving his touch. I give in so easily and he takes what he wants, making me come apart as he buries his massive cock in me until we’re both crying out in pleasure.
The second we’re both sated, he climbs off me, forgets all the tender passion, and dresses, leaving me naked and alone.
Chapter Eighteen
Damiano
She’s sitting in the kitchen with a cup of orange juice, not even coffee, and I fight the urge to switch it for her. There’s just something so damn innocent about her that drives me insane. My sweet little wife turns me on with everything she does, but she’s only eighteen.
“No coffee?”
“I don’t know where it’s at.”
“You didn’t ask the chef to make it for you?” She blushes, and a hint of jealousy fills me. Is she interested in my younger chef?
“Um, he’s a chef. Besides, I didn’t want to impose.” Damn. What kind of life did she have with her stepfather? That piece of shit probably limited her meals or made her ask for permission. Am I any better? She can’t do shit without my say, but it’s not for the same reason.
“This is your home,” I tell her, wanting to be different than Jones.
“For now,” she reminds me. Fuck. Eating my own words burns in my gut. A part of me wishes I’d cut my tongue out for slipping up like that.
My hand cups her chin. “Don’t spread that around to everyone. I’d hate for anyone to treat you with a lack of respect.” She cocks her brow and purses her lips, dipping her eyes to where my hand is.
Releasing my grip, I turn around and start the coffee, ignoring the pointed reference that I don’t treat her with respect.She gets more respect out of me than anyone else. The way she talks back would have cost her life. Once the pot is brewing, I face her and say, “My mother would like you to join her and Gracie to go shopping today.”
“Oh, really?” Stella’s eyes widened. “I can go?”
“Yes, but you’ll be under guard the entire time, so don’t try anything stupid.” She twists her lips, giving me a confused frown. “What do you have to say now?”
“Nothing.”