Page 20 of His Vicious Vow
While I want her to keep talking I’m unwilling to interrupt her pleasure as she eats. When she gives a little wiggle of happiness as she hums at the first bite of the crab cake my cock aches. Everything about her enraptures me, I’m barely able to focus on eating yet I don’t dare stare aware it might inhibit her pleasure. Bianca complained in the past of people looking at her while she ate and it making her feel fat. A flare of anger hits me all over again at the memory of her calling herself fat.
When I ask her if she wants something for dessert the way her eyes light up only to quickly dim is so wrong, the anger is back. “What did I tell you? No more thinking of yourself as overweight. You’re sexy as fuck and you make my cock hard. No one puts my woman down, including you.”
Her blush goes all the way down her neck. “You can’t just order me to completely change my way of thinking. Do you think I like thinking of myself as fat? That because I’m fat I don’t deserve…” She shakes her head. “I didn’t put those thoughts in my head, Carlo and the world did. There were guys in school who would freak out if I looked at them too long, telling me I was gross and they weren’t interested—”
I lean over the table and catch her by her throat to stop the awful shit coming out of her mouth. “Hey, those weren’t guys. They were boys. Their opinion doesn’t matter. The straight fact is you’re beautiful exactly as you are. That’s it. There is no, but you’d look better if you lost weight, or dyed your hair, or anything else. Exactly as you are is beautiful. I get there’s noise out there saying differently, all it is, is noise—ignore it. Listen to your inner voice. Listen to me.”
I’m fighting my cock at the way her breath hitches as I squeeze her neck. Fucking hell, she likes my hand around her throat. Is it the fear or the control? Either one is perfect. One of the reasons I stay away from virgins or women without experience is because I like my sex filthy as fuck, with me in control every second of the encounter. I give in to my need and brush her lips with mine. “Change that inner voice or I’ll change it for you.” I warn her.
Before I pull her across the table onto my cock, I let her go. The waitress is back. “We would like the strawberry shortcake.”
My phone goes off with a text. It’s Bianca wondering how everything went. I respond quickly that I’ll talk to her later. Carina’s eyes are on my phone. “It’s my sister. She’s curious about you. A warning, she says she wants to help you redo the condo. You don’t have to take anything she suggests into consideration. While I gave her leave for her to redo her room, it doesn’t extend to the rest of the condo.”
“You want me to redecorate?” She says it as though she doesn’t believe me.
“I would appreciate it if you would. I’m not all that picky. Although some color on the walls would be nice. I wasn’t surprised when Luca said Bella hated it and wanted to move out. We can look at a house eventually. But for the next few years, until it’s firmly established I’ve taken over and I’m not going anywhere, we need to live there. I also spend sixteen hours a day working and five hours sleeping, if I’m lucky.”
“So I’m going to be left all on my own…” She shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”
Shaking my head, I let it go. The waitress brings the strawberry shortcake with two forks. Carina licks her lips and I barely manage to swallow a groan. I take a fork and use it to cut into the soft spongy cake with a custard-like filling and spear a strawberry. She catches her bottom lip with her teeth, fuck this woman is killing me slowly. I offer her the bite. Green eyes go wide, she opens her mouth and accepts it. The little hum that comes out of her slides down my spine.
I grab my water and drink deeply. Thank fuck she’s not a virgin because there is no way I can wait a month for her.
The few bites I take for myself are tasteless to me, all I can do is watch Carina.
She looks at me, “What?”
“Let’s go up to my room.”
Her blush is back as she shakes her head. “No.”
I focus on the waitress and charge it to my room with a tip commensurate with how she eyed Carina when she ordered.
I’ve barely handed the waitress the signed receipt when Carina speaks. “Take me home. Please.”
Shit. If she knows what she does to me when she says please, I’m completely fucked. “Fine.” I spit the word out annoyed with both of us.
* * *
Carina
His phone goes off while we’re waiting for the valet. He answers in Italian. I can barely hear the person on the other end, who is also speaking Italian.
“We found a rat. Not FBI but a rat. Anything from Valdez on the agent?” A man says.
Sandro goes tense. “No. Hold on. I’m going to call you back when I’m in my room.”
I’m relieved. I really am. “Go on. I can get home on my own.” I tell him, without thinking I speak in Italian as well.
He works his jaw and nods. His car draws up and he talks to the guy telling him he doesn’t need his car after all, but I need a cab home.
It’s annoying the way everyone jumps to cater to Sandro. The power he exudes isn’t something anyone misses or questions. One stops immediately. The valet person opens the back door for me.
Sandro leans into the window of the cabbie and gives him my address along with a wad of cash. “She gets home safe, or I find you and kill you.”
The words are ice that freezes the cabbie in place. He nods fast as he takes the money. “Safe, yes. I will get her there safe.”
“One minute.” He tells the cabbie.