Page 17 of His Vicious Vow
Those words twist me tighter between my legs and pull a whimper from me.
“Be my good girl and your rewards will be many. I want to give you all of it, everything you want and need. Don’t fight me, piccolina. I don’t want to go to war with you. You won’t win. You can’t win. Be my good girl and I swear it won’t ever feel as though you lost.”
I’m desperate for his kiss. His right hand slides beneath my panties. He is cruel for the way the fingers taunt me by running over the seam of me but not inside me. “Please, Sandro.”
“I love the way you say my name. Such a good girl you can be.” Those fingers slide all the way down before sliding back up with the very tip of one finger inside me. It’s not enough.
“Sandro, please Sandro.” I beg him. Giving him more so he will give me more.
“So fucking good. You deserve a reward.” Both fingers press into me. My gasp is swallowed by his mouth. Burning, a fire out of control consumes me. Oh god, the heat is everything and I want more. I want all of him. Those fingers find my clit, once, twice they swipe over me then again and again. I shatter in orgasm crying out into his mouth.
I drift in waves of pleasure. His strong arms wrapped around me felt…safe. He will never let me fall beneath the waves and not come back up or let me float away lost in nothingness. He whispers my name against my cheek in a way that feels like he’s giving thanks for me as though I’m treasured. I’ve never felt it before. The idea of it is a shock that sends my eyes open.
I’m not in the same position I was what feels like seconds ago. Somehow I’m cradled in his arms with my legs over his lap. Blue eyes are soft as they study me. The warning he gave me flashes. I believe him. I can’t win if I go straight up against him. And he doesn’t want to fight me.
But I know him better than he knows himself—he will hurt me. He won’t be able to help it. We’re too different. He wants a me I can never be. I’ll try. I’ll try so hard because I’m that pathetic and I’ll fail. He’ll pretend it doesn’t matter but it does. And he’ll resent me or I’ll resent him and it will slowly eat at the attraction he feels.
His hand is back around my throat, I wish to god I knew why I like it there so much, bringing me up to his mouth. “Don’t. Don’t go thinking of trouble. Especially when it’s not what you really want.”
I miss his hand as he lets me go. Then I’m up in his arms as he carries me to the table. He pulls out a chair before setting me down on my feet carefully. It takes a minute for me to feel my legs.
Resentment at him pushes the words out of me. “I can’t believe you. Private room or not. You’re gross. You knew I would never go up to your room. You tricked me with thinking I was safe from you in here.”
CHAPTER 7
Carina
The last thing I expect is for him to laugh. “As hard as it might be to believe, that wasn’t why I selected this room. We need to be able to speak freely with each other, privately. The things we need to discuss aren’t for public consumption.”
Could I for fucks sake please stop blushing? I bury my nose in the menu. Holy crap.
“What’s the matter?”
I shrug. “It’s just a lot.”
Tilting his head, he studies me. “It’s not much at all. This is less than what we charge at our property on the strip. Don’t worry about the cost. I don’t. So now you don’t either.”
“You’re too bossy.” I mutter as I turn my attention to trying to figure out what I want.
“It’s my job.” He chuckles.
The tattoo on his neck catches my eye as well as the ones on the back of his hands. On the back of his left hand are two hands in a prayer pose with a rosary wrapped around them. For his right hand is a rose. The question is out before I know it. “How is it your job with your tattoos? Especially the one on your throat.”
An eyebrow goes up. “Because I’m that good at my job the tattoos don’t matter.” He shrugs. “The one on my throat, I got when Carlo refused to let Luca name me as his second. I was pissed it didn’t matter how good I was or how hard Luca pressed him. Just because my mom was half-Filipino, I thought at the time that I would never get the spot I wanted.”
“Your mom is half-Filipino too?” I’m shocked. I don’t see anything in his features…well maybe his eyes tilt up ever so slightly the way mine do when I just woke up and my eyes are puffy.
He nods. “Carlo already said something real shitty about our kids. I honestly need to stay the fuck away from him or I might fuck up completely and kill him.”
A shiver runs through me at him talking about kids. Only for fire to flash through me at the idea of what Carlo might have said. “Do you speak the language?”
Another nod. “No, like I said my mother was half. Her mother got a golden ticket opportunity in Hong Kong because her English was so good. She married an Englishman when they were still in charge of Hong Kong. My grandmother apparently saw being Filipino as something to be ashamed of. She didn’t speak a word of the language my mother’s whole childhood and my mother was discouraged from learning it. My mom said the first time she had Filipino food was when she came to study at UNLV. I asked her if she ever wanted to but she said she was crap at learning languages. Which was true, she was supposed to learn Italian and raise me speaking the language. She didn’t though. It took forever for me to learn Italian.”
“Carlo was the same when it came to my mom having anything to do with Filipino food or the language. I didn’t have Filipino food until I was sixteen and me and Celia tried a place out. A part of me was disappointed I didn’t like it the way I hoped I would. It’s not bad but…”
He chuckles. “Your favorite food is Mexican.”
Damn, he knows everything about me. “I don’t get it. I’ve tried to like Japanese, Korean, Chinese and I like some things from each but I like Italian and love Mexican food. It’s the only kind of food I’ve even learned how to cook, besides the Italian my nonna taught us how to cook. What languages do you speak?”