This is my chance to make him get closer to me. To trust me.
I'm doing this to avenge my father's death.
But as he carries me through the hallways of the mansion, my body betrays me. I can explain this. I haven't had sex in months. My body has needs.
He kicks open the door to his bedroom—a room I've never entered before—and I catch glimpses of dark furniture and massive windows before he tosses me onto his bed. The silk sheets feel cool against my heated skin.
My breathing comes fast and shallow as Damiano looms over me, his expression unreadable in the dim light. This is madness. This is wrong. I came here to destroy this man.
I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you.
When his mouth claims mine, all those thoughts scatter like leaves in a storm. And I hate myself for that.
His kiss is different this time. His tongue explores my mouth with devastating precision, and I hear myself moan against his lips.
"Damiano," I whisper, not sure if I'm asking him to stop or begging him to continue.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his dark eyes burning with intensity. The moonlight streaming through his bedroom windows catches the silver at his temples, making him look otherworldly.
"Tell me to stop," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me now, or I won't be able to."
I remain silent, my body making the decision my mind refuses to.
I have to do this.
I nod.
A predatory smile curves his lips as he lowers his head again, this time to my neck. His teeth graze my sensitive skin, sending electricity down my spine. He works his way down my body with agonizing slowness, pushing up my tank top to expose my stomach.
His lips trace patterns across my skin, alternating between gentle kisses and possessive nips that make me arch beneath him. Each touch leaves a trail of fire that burns away my resistance.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs against my hipbone.
Damiano continues his journey downward, his hands gripping my thighs to spread them wider. He looks up at me from between my legs, his eyes locked with mine in a silent question. The vulnerability in that moment steals my breath—this dangerous man, asking permission.
His fingers hook into the sides of my underwear, but instead of pulling them down, he lowers his head. I gasp as I feel his teeth grasp the delicate fabric. With agonizing slowness, he drags my underwear down my thighs, never breaking eye contact.
The cool air hits my exposed center, making me shiver. Or maybe it's the look of pure hunger in Damiano's eyes as he tosses my underwear aside.
"Let me taste you," he says, his voice a dark promise.
Before I can respond, his mouth is on me. The first stroke of his tongue makes my back arch off the bed, a desperate sound escaping my throat. He licks me with single-minded focus, like a man starved, alternating between broad strokes and precise attention that makes my vision blur.
Damiano works me with his mouth like he'sworshiping at an altar. His hands grip my thighs with bruising intensity, holding me in place as I squirm beneath his relentless attention. The contrast between his rough fingers and soft tongue creates a tension that builds inside me with every stroke.
"Oh God," I gasp, my fingers finding their way into his dark hair.
When he slides one finger inside me while his tongue continues its work, stars explode behind my eyes. My hips buck against his mouth, chasing the sensation as a second finger joins the first, stretching me in the most exquisite way.
"That's it," he murmurs against me.
His words vibrate through my core, and something inside me shatters. My release crashes over me in waves so intense I cry out, my body convulsing as Damiano continues licking me through every aftershock.
When I can finally open my eyes again, Damiano rises to his feet beside the bed. His eyes never leave mine as his fingers work the remaining buttons of his shirt. He shrugs it off, revealing a torso that makes my breath catch.
