I throw my head back and laugh, the sound echoing through the room. “Oh, that’s rich. The big, scary mafia boss can’t handle his wife sitting on his desk?”
I reach for a silver letter opener and let it clatter to the floor.
“You want me to leave? Make me,” I repeat, grinning at him.
His face darkens. He slams the door shut so hard that the sound echoes through the house.
“You enjoy this, don’t you?” He turns to face me, his voice low and dangerous. “Tempting me. Pushing my buttons.”
“Is that what I’m doing?” I tilt my head innocently, swinging my legs. “I thought I was just being a good wife. Getting to know my husband’s…workspace.”
“You’re being a brat.”
“I’m being myself.”
He takes a step toward the desk. “You have no idea what you’re playing with.”
“Enlighten me.”
Another step closer. “You think this is a game?”
“Isn’t it?” I lean back on my hands, the nightgown riding higher. “Big, powerful man, helpless little wife. Seems like your kind of game.”
“You’re nothing helpless, Kasimira,” he bites out, his mouth a breath from mine. “You’ve proven that over and over again.”
And then his lips crash against mine.
13
KASI
I may regretthis in the morning but right now, I do not give a fuck.
I respond fiercely, my hands clawing at his jacket, nails scraping the fabric. He groans into my mouth and lifts me clean off the desk, carrying me out of his office and down the hall.
I smirk at the sight Lionel is cursed to see.
In his bedroom, Alaric sets me on the edge of the bed and stands over me, eyes burning like he’s still trying to figure out whether to worship me or punish me.
“You’re not helpless,” he says again, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
I tilt my head, smiling. “And here I thought you liked your women helpless.”
He leans down, lips ghosting over my cheek, his breath hot and ragged. “I like them dangerous. But brats still get put in their place.”
He hooks his fingers under the straps of my nightgown and slides them slowly off my shoulders. The fabric slips inch by inch, until it reveals my bare breasts. The cool air ghosts over my skin, and my nipples harden instantly under his gaze.
“You always undress your wives like this?” I murmur, voice low and challenging.
His eyes snap to mine.
“You’re the only wife I’ve had,” he says, voice low, dangerous. “And you make me want to kill you and fuck you in the same breath.”
My nightgown pools around my hips now, caught at my waist. He leans in, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “You have no idea how close I am to doing both.”
His hand trails down my spine, tracing the curve of my back. I shiver, not from cold, but from the way his words thread through me like a fuse waiting to be lit.
He looks up at me like a man facing a shrine. Worship, yes. But ruin too.
