He tilted my face upward, forcing my eyes to meet his.
“So,” he murmured, low and deliberate, crawling under my skin, “my wife is a virgin.”
The word landed heavy.
Claiming. Mocking.
His thumb brushed the edge of my lower lip—the same one that still burned from his aggressive kiss earlier.
My breath caught.
I swallowed hard, hating how my body trembled despite myself, hating that he could see everything I was trying desperately to hide.
My gaze flicked to his mouth—those lips I both feared and wanted.
I forced my eyes away, but they betrayed me, jerking back up, then down again against my will.
They landed on the hard bulge straining against his trousers, undeniable and unrelenting, and heat surged through me despite every instinct screaming to look away.
“You’ll go down on your knees,” he said quietly, “and suck me.”
The words hit like a slap.
My breath stuttered.
He didn’t look away. “Like the innocent little virgin you are.”
Heat bloomed in my cheeks before I could stop it.
His voice dropped lower.
“That... is punishment enough for letting another man see you like this.”
I tried to jerk back.
His grip tightened instantly.
“I haven’t crossed any of your three red lines,” I said, voice shaking but defiant, “so why should I be punished?”
My chest rose sharply.
My body still burning from the kiss.
Still remembering. Still reacting.
But my pride—my anger—was louder and stronger.
I met his eyes, refusing to look away despite the heat crawling up my neck.
“Plus... it will be my first time,” I said, voice tight, trembling despite myself.
“I don’t want it... with you.”
My body betrayed me—cheeks burning, pulse hammering, every instinct screaming against him—but still, I held his gaze.
Vincenzo Orisini stood close enough that I could feel every word vibrate in the space between us.
“Your first time.” He repeated it like he was tasting the words, savoring them.
