I let out a breath of relief when I don’t see him anymore. I don’t know what Kai’s deal is, but his hatred for me is getting worse. I can tell in the way he looks at me. The things he says when Sergio’s not around. I don’t know how to bring it up to Sergio because he thinks of Kai as his brother.
Sergio kicks the door with his foot, then walks us to the bed and tosses me on it. I bounce and laugh as Sergio crawls onto the bed like he’s got his prey in his sight. All thoughts of Kai’s weird behavior disappear as I look at the hunger in Sergio’s eyes. He makes everything around me better.
This master bedroom is the most luxurious place I’ve ever seen. Through the wide glass windows, Las Vegas stretches in every direction as far as the eye can see. Bright lights twinkle like stars in the pitch-black skies. The Strip pulses with so much energy it’s almost like a living breathing creature, but the noise doesn’t reach up here.
I lay spread open for him on a king-sized bed sitting against the far wall, its dark silk sheets so soft against my skin. The upholstered, soft leather headboard is simple, compared to the rest of the room. On both sides of the bed, nightstands sit low to the ground, with small lamps that cast a warm glow. The walls are muted gray with no artwork to distract from the view. And in the corner, a fireplace flickers more for the mood thanheat. The room smells of cedar and something floral and slow, instrumental music plays low from hidden speakers.
He slips my heels off with a slow tug, then tosses them over his shoulder, drawing a laugh from my lips. His hands wrap around my ankles, then he drags me to the foot of the bed. He runs his calloused fingertips along my legs and thighs, hooks his fingers beneath my lace panties, then slides them down my legs, never breaking eye contact with me, before flinging them behind him.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He parts my legs as my dress slips higher, pooling around my hips. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
My breath stutters. He’s never said it before. Not once. We’ve been in each other’s lives on and off since I was fourteen years old. Of course, I’ve always known even when we weren’t together what he feels for me. I’ve always felt it in the way he holds me, the way he looks at me like I’m the only thing keeping him alive. But the words? He’s never told me once that he loves me. Until now.
“You love me?” I whisper.
“You don’t believe me?”
He runs his finger through my folds and I squirm, but I don’t take my eyes off him.
“You’ve never said it before.”
He gently pressed his thumb against my clit and massages it with tiny circles. “Sergio,” I moan.
“I didn’t think I needed to.” He inserts one of his fingers inside my entrance. “I show you every fucking day, Seraphina. But I have no problem telling you if you need me too. I love you, baby.”
“I love you, too.”
A devastating smile forms on his lips as he pulls his fingers from inside me, then slides off the bed. “No.” I reach out my hand, pouting. “Where are you going?”
“I can’t show you how much I love you and how much I want to fuck you with my clothes on.”
He stands in the soft glow of lamplight and the lights from outside spilling through the window. I prop up on my elbows, watching him as his gaze never leaves mine while his fingers work at the buttons of his shirt as he kicks off his shoes.
He isn’t rushing, and each movement is like he’s unwrapping something special just for me. When his shirt falls open, revealing the curve of his collarbone, the line of his ribs, and every inch of tattooed skin that’s been hidden, I can’t help but brush my fingers over his chest. He stills, his breath hitches and he closes his eyes.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper.
When Sergio opens his eyes, they’re as dark as an abyss. As he leans forward and kisses me, it’s like he’s stealing my very soul. He pushes me back on the bed, he pushes his pants along with his briefs down his legs and his dick springs forward.
He climbs between my legs and pushes inside me. “Fuck,” he groans. “This pussy is mine, Seraphina.”
His thrusts are slow but brutal. He’s touching something inside me that has never been reached. “No one will ever make you feel the way that I do. No one, Seraphina. Any man that touches what’s mine will die.”
“Sergio,” I moan, letting myself sink into the moment and the rhythm of his touch.
But something shifts in the room. I don’t think Sergio feels it, but I do. My eyes snap open. The door is cracked just enough for the light from the hallway to cut across the floor and enough for me to see Kai. His face is half-shadowed, but I see him.
The jealousy.
The hatred.
I flinch and Sergio pauses then looks at me with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“I thought I saw someone at the door.”
He brows pull together. “Who?”
“Kai.”
