Since he’s carrying the tray in one hand and securing me with the other, and he came to feed me in the guest house (like a good owner feeds his pet, you know), I expect him to deposit me in the kitchen. But he doesn’t. He marches through it, into the foyer, and up the stairs.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
He tsks.
At the top of the stairs, he pauses briefly, as if making a split-second decision to turn left.
No way!“Alessio,” I whisper-hiss. “No.” I kick my feet.
The door opens as if he’s opening it telekinetically, and he walks into the room at the end of the hallway. Also known as his bedroom. If the dark hardwood floors weren’t enough of a clue, the masculine scent unique to Alessio would give it away. It smells like sandalwood and crushed lavender over charcoal.
When he leans to the side, I grab his belt to hold on, thinking he’ll dump me onto his bed, but it seems like he’s putting down the tray. Alessio moves into the bathroom. I can tell by the tile.
There, he stands for a while.
Back here, I’m holding on to his belt. “Hey,” I say and lift my left foot, wiggling it as if waving.
Alessio pulls down my pajama bottoms and spanks me. Hard. Several times. Then I feel his lips and tongue depressing the side of my thigh and sucking. Also hard. Is he giving me a hickey? I can’t say anything because he told me to be quiet, and he really means it. Because he’s going through something that got sparked by seeing me barefoot near glass.
I’m trying to understand him, but he’s a difficult, complex, and an extremely dominant man. I’ve never met anyone like him. Besides, his personality is so opposite to mine that I’m having a hard time understanding how he keeps up with all the moving pieces in his life. Between Val, his business, his fifteen-hour workday seven days a week, how would he even know whether or not I ate dinner?
Even I don’t care about eating dinner. Sometimes my stomach growls, and I’m like,oh hey, I should probably eat.Thank you, body, for the reminder.Meanwhile, this man brought me dinner.
Alessio bites the soft flesh of my upper thigh. Not hard, but enough that I kick up my feet.
Finally, he sets me beside the sink and traps me between his arms and his body. His clear blue eyes, like lasers, penetrate my soul.
I cup his face. “Are we good now?”
He nods.
“Okay, then.”
Alessio steps back, his eyebrows drawn, his hands on his hips. When he looks up, he scrunches up his nose. “The staff will sweep the floor thoroughly.”
“Thank you.”
He pulls his bottom lip through his teeth while lifting his upper lip.
We’re still very much in feral territory. I'd best remain seated for the duration of his feral mood, or he’ll spank me. I’ll probably like it, so yeah, I’ll sit here like a good pet and wait for it to pass.
“There’s pizza,” he says.
“I love pizza.”
When I don’t move, Alessio jerks his head. “Get in my bed, Lake.”
TWENTY-ONE
DEFINITION OF MINE
Alessio
My nephew’s governess is in my bed.
In. My. Bed.
How did we get here?
