Honestly, I couldn’t put a perfect saying or even word to the change that had occurred just seconds before.
He’d also spanked me, the moment different than when he’d done so in the office inside Indulgence. Not only because he’d used a belt, but also because he’d been determined that I deserved the punishment. He hadn’t come out and called me a bad girl, but I’d sensed that’s what he’d thought.
As if I needed to be disciplined on a regular basis.
He was crazy for thinking so.
Yet every time I moved, I was reminded how painful and delicious the spanking had been. He hadn’t been kidding, the strikes of the belt leaving me in anguish, but by the end, I’d been dripping, my inner thighs coated in juice.
My bottom remained on fire, but so did every other inch of my skin.
But now as he leaned over on the bed just as he’d done at the kitchen table, I was drunk on my desire and from the way he was looking at me.
He narrowed his eyes, taking several deep, raspy breaths as he peered down at me and all I could think about was where the game was headed.
Or if this was even a game at all.
If so, the danger was about losing my heart. Not only was that something I’d promised myself I’d never do with anyone, but it was also physically and emotionally impossible with Donatello. No matter how much I craved the man. No matter that we were well suited together or that he’d laid claim to me, he’d be dead before the engagement party.
Well, maybe not dead as I honestly didn’t think my brothers would go that far, but he would be banished and I’d be sequestered in a locked castle for the rest of my life.
Maybe that’s why the forbidden aspects of sharing whatever time we had were that much more delicious.
But as far as any chance for reality? None.
I rubbed the flat of my hand down his stomach, still marveling at the incredible ink I’d had no idea existed. I’d been so enthralled by the sight of his huge cock when the towel had fallen I hadn’t paid enough attention to the dark scene highlighted by the raven. It was as if he was trying to depict death. I half expected there to be other artwork including gravestones and trees covered in gnarled vines.
Yet as disturbing as they were, in my mind they were also beautiful.
The discomfort he must have gone through with the sensitive skin near his cock was frying my mind. Then there was the piercing.
If he was trying to prove that he was a true savage, then he’d done so. With the addition of the various scars from knife and bullet wounds, his body was a canvas of the dangerous life he led.
He was oh-so wrong for me, but right now, my gut told me he was everything I’d ever desired.
Some might call this a catastrophic mistake, but he was right about one thing. It was much too late to worry about that.
His long hair was swept over his shoulders as he carefully balanced himself over me. Just seeing the expansion of his muscles in his arms was enough to keep me mesmerized.
Everything about him was powerful, more so without his clothes. He was the most beautiful specimen of a man I’d ever seen.
I shifted my hand down to his glistening cockhead, flicking my finger across the sterling bar. He chuckled and lowered his gaze. “It would seem my sweet Ambrosia is eager.”
“Just very hungry.” I was being truthful.
“Then I guess we need to do something about that.” He lowered his head, holding his lips less than an inch above mine.
I tilted my chin, barely able to breathe. “Yes, you should.” Bending my knee, I rubbed my leg against his thigh, perhapsas additional enticement. My pussy throbbed, my core already overheated. All the nights I’d lusted after him while pretending I couldn’t stand him had come down to this.
He shifted his hips back and forth, taking his time to allow me to enjoy the moment. It was often said that clothes could make the man, and with him and his insufferable need to constantly wear designer suits, that was true.
He’d always been impeccably dressed. Even though I’d overheard or had gleaned through resources of my own that Donatello as the enforcer took his job seriously, indulging in his bloodlust more than passion, I’d never seen him covered in blood.
Maybe because I was the protected princess, but I’d purposely snuck around from time to time, trying to learn everything my brothers were up to. Donatello had always appeared as if walking off a runway in Milan.
Without his clothes, everything about him was entirely different. He was the rugged savage with no conscience or soul, just as I’d imagined.
He brushed his lips across mine before pulling back.
