“Leave the idiot alone, okay?”
Too late,I think but decide not to burden her with the truth. She’d only feel guilt for something she shouldn’t.
“If I perform in plays, kisses may be required or-”
“Never. I won’t share you, Francesca,” I growl in her ear as I tug her toward me. Fuck, that lavender scent and the softness of her curls are my only addiction. She is mine, but I am hers, too. “No other man may have any little piece of you while I draw breath and certainly none of your precious kisses, staged or otherwise.”
She shivers in my arms until she seems to give herself a shake. “At least he didn’t drug me first.”
Oh. “I shouldn’t have left the bottle in our bathroom.”
“You aren’t even going to deny it?!”
I shrug, and she is seething. No other woman ever looked half so glorious in her wrath. “Would you prefer I insult your intelligence?”
“So, you drugged me and fucked me and-”
“I fucked you.ThenI drugged you. An important difference if you ask me.”
“Oh, sure. Thanks for not drugging mebeforeyou fucked me, Carlo. You’re a real gentleman.”
My lips twitch at the absurdity of that comment. A gentleman is the very last thing I am. “I tricked you, I admit. You came to me with your pitiful bargain trying to escape our marriage. I took advantage. You knew the sort of man you were dealing with.”
“You made a fool of me. You forced me into a miserable marriage.”
“What makes you think I give a shit if you’re miserable?” I reply, harshly. The second the words are out of my mouth, I know they’re a lie. The flash of hurt in her eyes mixed with her anger makes me want to take them back, but I’m too prideful to do so.
“You’re not a bit sorry for it, are you?”
“Not remotely. And to be fair, I have a feeling the sex and alcohol would've knocked you out anyway.”
Unlike the stupid singing boy, Francesca doesn’t have roots for feet. She springs forward like a tigress, storming toward me with a war cry and preparing to scratch my eyes out. Her nails rake down one cheek before my hands have her wrists in an iron grip. “Hurt me then and let me hate you the way I should,” she hisses, furiously.
“I already told you I won’t, and I know you don’t,” I reply before my mouth crashes into hers. She tastes so fucking sweet. Even when she bites down hard on my lip, I don’t care because, a second later, she’s answering my demanding kiss with her own need.
“I hate how much I want you,” she pants, tearing at my shirt. The buttons scatter as I unzip her jeans, steering us closer to the back of the sofa.
“You may hate it, but you still want it.” Shoving her jeans down, I sink to my knees, gazing up at her with this hunger I can’t control. “Let me make amends because I will never feel regret over the night I made you mine or the morning we said our vows.”
Her nails scrape my scalp, roughly. “One day, you may live to regret it, Carlo.”
“Hmm, maybe so,” I murmur, nuzzling the apex of her thighs, inhaling her luscious scent. “But not today.” I slip her panties to one side and kiss her mound.
Her nails are still digging into my scalp. Something warm and wet seeps down my forehead - blood. “Oh,” she gasps, realizing what she’s done. “I’m sor-”
“Don’t apologize to me. I don’t deserve it but let me eat you. I’m dying for a taste.” With hooded eyes and her chest heaving, she wets her lips and nods. I tug on one leg, widening her stance and then pepper the inside of her thigh with soft kisses. She shifts impatiently, wanting more. “You are mine, Francesca. No kissing other men. Say it.”
She gives me a mutinous glare until the caress of my tongue draws a moan from her lips. I want to roar with triumph, tasting her arousal. She tries pressing her pussy against my mouth to silence me, but I resist. “Say it.”
“I am yours. No kissing other men. And you are mine. No kissing other women.”
“I willneverkiss another woman for as long as I live,” I assure her before giving her what we both want. I circle my tongue around her puffy little pink button and then flick it quickly until she’s gasping and rocking her hips, shuddering from her first orgasm of the night. “From the moment I saw you singing at that wedding, I was yours. I had to make you mine. Hold onto the back of the sofa.”
She does and I drag one slender leg over my shoulder before giving her slit another long, firm lick. I could eat her all night. I will for a thousand nights if it buys her forgiveness. “Carlo…” she murmurs, her voice drenched with lust.
“Yes,mia moglie?”
“Don’t stop making me yours.”
