“What?” The word flew from my mouth along with the remains of the coffee I’d just sipped. Irritated, I yanked a tissue out of the box the table and dabbed my mouth, thankful none of the liquid spilled on my scrubs.
“That mafia man’s hot, right. I’d give my eyeteeth for just one look from him.” She was a second-year resident, but her gushing was teenybopper level.
I rolled my eyes. “If you say so.”
Her excitement filled eyes roved over my face. “How did you two meet? How long are you dating him? Is he good in bed?” she asked eagerly as if we were roommates or something closer.
I glared at her, and she startled, her mouth popping wide open, her expression like she’d just seen a ghost. “Who started that rumor?” I frowned at her over the top response.
“I did.”
Alarmed, I swung around sharply, jostling coffee over the side of the cup and scowled at the man in question. With my back to the door, I hadn’t heard him come in and now understood the woman’s shocked response.
Just the mere sight of him and my pussy began to tingle. No, not from arousal, more a reminder of my suffering. “Why would you do that?” I wiped my hand stinging with coffee burn, annoyed not just with his assumption but the fact he’d literally violated me with that tattoo and quite clearly, there was nothing I could do about it.
He took a step forward bringing him to back of the sofa between us. “Because you’re mine, you just didn’t know it and now you do.” His gaze dropped down to the ‘v’ between my legs as if reminding me what he’d done.
“I’m not yours or anyone’s property,” I hissed, wishing to God I could wrack up the nerve to visit a tattoo pallor and ask them if they could do something to remove it.
Cool eyes roved over my face as he leaned closer, his next words a soft menace. “My name on your pussy says otherwise.” Embarrassment burned my cheeks before he tilted his head to look at the woman behind me. “Get lost.”
I turned, hoping to stop her. “Don’t?—”
She shot up, cutting me off and with her head down, made a hasty departure. Remo came around the sofa, took the cup from my hand and set it down on the coffee table.
Surprisingly, I faced off, stupidly believing he wouldn’t intentionally hurt me. “What do you want from me?” I snapped.
He reached out, pushing a wayward strand of hair off my cheek. I flinched. “Submission is boring, little fox, I love a woman with fight in her. And what can be more challenging than a daring one who not only slaps me, but she also throws a knife at me, reports me to the cops and mouths off in front of people. And let’s not forget just how well you suck my cock.”
“If only they’d locked you up,” I said sweetly.
His chuckle was eerily disturbing, almost sadistic and when he stepped closer, I took one back. Eyes locked with mine, he took another and I did the same. Our dance came to an end when my back hit the floor to ceiling window behind me.
“You violated me.” Again, my skin there tingled.
Palms planted on either side of my head, he leaned closer, his potent scent flooding my senses. “I disciplined you.”
I kept my breath steady, not ready to show him just how unsettled I was. “You wronged me, why should I be disciplined?”
“I wronged you?” he asked lazily, exasperating me even more. “I just gave you what you didn’t know you needed.” He pressed his body into mine. “A taste of my cock.”
I tried shoving him away, my fingers meeting nothing but solid muscle beneath his dark shirt. “Even if I needed cock, I’d take any other–”
He gripped my hips savagely and swung me around, shoving my chest to the window. The air whooshed out of my lungs in a harsh grunt. “Your pussy belongs to my cock, little fox and he’s just as fucked up as his owner, there’s no telling what they’ll do if another man so much as smells your panties.” I shuddered. “Mention another man again and I’ll punish the fuck out of you, this time though, you’ll fucking enjoy it, begging me for more,” he growled, low and menacing.
Exasperation kicked me in the stomach. Using the glass as leverage, I pushed back. Hands on my hips, he shoved a knee between my legs and pressed his chest to my rear, keeping me in place, his strength subduing my attempts.
I stared out the window. Even though it overlooked a garden, anyone looking out of a window of the north wing situated at a ninety-degree angle to where we stood, would see exactly what this man was doing to me. Part of me hoped they’d report it if they did, the other part scoffed. No one would touch Remo Rossi, a painful lesson I was beginning to grasp.
“Let me go,” I grumbled.
I felt his face in my hair and heard him inhale. “No.”
The hushed tone coated in a sexy rasp sent a shiver up my spine before he dragged his right hand up my body, leaving a burning trail in its wake. Breathing uneven, I shoved backward, wriggling to get out of his hold until his hand closed around my neck, his grip tight.
“You feel that?”
I froze, feeling his stiff length press into my ass and bit back the moan threatening to escape me as his hand tightened a little more. He tipped his hips forward, and I hated that rush of heat through my body, hated the intense wetness between legs, hated that I was somehow turned on by this evil man. Mortified, I struggled against his hold.
