Page 108 of Coerced Kiss
Guilt assaults me as I stop on the sidewalk to let a car pass. A woman and a man sit in the front and two kids in the back. They’re laughing, the woman saying something over her shoulder to the children while the man looks at her with pride.
I always wanted a big family. I love kids. From the time I was old enough to earn my own money, I dreamt about having a spacious house and filling it with babies. Four, at least. Why not six? I envied those numerous families at mass. I guess part of it comes from being an only child. I was lonely growing up. My father was always working, and my mother was too sick to spend time with me. She was diagnosed shortly after my birth. That’s why I never had a brother or a sister. I thought Rachele and Giorgio were lucky to have one another, but they’ve never been close. If I had a sister, I’d spend as much time with her as I could. I’d walk her to school and carry her bag. I did that for Rachele because Giorgio neglected those duties. I would’ve givenanything to have what he had or to be one of those six kids on the pew in church who went home to a warm kitchen and a big, noisy family meal.
An SUV pulls up. The guards stationed in front of the house change shifts. They greet me with a nod.
Pulling myself back to the present, I cross the road and go inside.
When I walk into the bedroom, the sound of running water comes from the shower. I strip, letting my clothes fall where they land, and head for the bathroom.
Anya’s body is visible from behind the glass of the shower cubicle. Her curves are soft in the foggy layer that obscures the view.
She jerks when I open the door and get inside.
Brushing long, wet, fiery tendrils of hair from her face, she blinks away the drops of water that cling to her lashes. “You scared me.”
I close the door. “I didn’t mean to.”
Her gaze drops to my groin. Yeah. I’m already hard for her. A glimpse of her naked figure through the glass is all it takes. The smell of her skin is enough to turn me on. At the mere thought of her, my cock threatens to strip my zipper and burst through the seams of my pants.
Apprehension flickers in her eyes when I step right up to her and frame her face between my hands. “How are you this morning?”
She frowns. “Fine.”
“Sore?”
She shrugs. “A little.”
I hold my breath, my heart beating out a strange rhythm in my chest. “Bleeding?”
She shakes her head.
Relief crashes through me, but for some reason, I don’t feel better. “I tried to be gentle.”
She takes my wrists and moves my hands away. “I know.”
Turning her back on me, she tilts her face up and rinses shampoo suds from her hair.
If she thinks she’s getting away that easily, she better think again.
I lock my fingers around her wrist and spin her around. “What happened last night is going to happen again.” I cup her pussy with my free hand, resting my thumb on her clit. “So, if I hurt you, I want you to tell me.”
She catches my biceps to keep her balance when I curl my middle finger and sink it up to the knuckle inside her. Her breathing quickens, enticing me to thrust and take her to that point that gives her pleasure and makes me high, but this isn’t about that.
I pull out gently and bring my finger to my face. No blood. Only her arousal. And I’ll be damned if all my reservations don’t fly to the moon. Because she wants me.
“Anya.”
I let her go and take a step backward. Give her a chance to escape.
But she doesn’t.
She closes her hand around my cock and stares up at my face. Her features are so angelic, so fucking innocent, that I falter for a moment.
“What are you doing?” I say with a sound close to a growl, locking my fingers around hers where she grips my shaft.
“You said it yourself. It’s going to happen again.”
I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to pump into her fist. I don’t want her to misinterpret my meaning. “You do have a choice. Always.”