“Did someone threaten you?” I demanded.
“No.”
“Did your father say something to you?” I asked next.
“No.”
Every answer sounded like a lie. Frustration and possessiveness twisted violently together inside me until I grabbed the knife resting beside the untouched champagne tray.
The silver blade flashed beneath candlelight. Chiara’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of it. Good. At least that got a reaction.
Slowly, I stepped back between her thighs, the knife hanging loose in one hand while my other palm slid up the inside of her leg beneath layers of silk.
“Stop me,” I ordered quietly.
She swallowed hard. But she didn’t move. Rage curled hot and vicious through my bloodstream.
“Fight back,” I demanded.
Nothing. Her body stayed perfectly still beneath my hands, like she’d already decided enduring me would hurt less than fighting. I fucking hated it.
My palm spread higher against her thigh, pushing her legs farther apart. The wedding gown shifted open around her in slow waves of white silk, exposing delicate lace panties beneath pearls and garters and satin. So fucking pretty.
The knife glinted once beneath the candles. Then I sliced clean through the lace. The sound ripped sharply through the suite. Chiara gasped softly as ruined fabric fell apart beneath the blade and fluttered uselessly against the sheets.
My chest heaved once as hunger slammed through me hard enough to blur the edges of my vision. But even then… Even staring at her spread open beneath candlelight in white silk and diamonds…
I knew something was terribly wrong with my wife.
Chapter Fifteen: CHIARA
IsatfrozenbeneathLeo,my ruined lace panties hanging in ribbons against my thighs while the knife glinted loosely in his hand. The cold silver blade should have terrified me. Instead, all I could feel was him.
His heat between my legs. His massive body crowding mine into the mattress. The scent of expensive bourbon and smoke clinging to his skin beneath the roses and candle wax filling the suite.
My breathing wouldn’t steady. Neither would my heartbeat.
Leo stared down at me like he was trying to peel apart my skull and look directly inside my thoughts.
“I knew something was wrong the second you walked up to the altar,” he said quietly.
My stomach twisted violently. I looked away. Big mistake. His hand caught my jaw again, rougher this time. Not enough to hurt. Enough to control.
“Look at me when I take you,” he demanded. I hated how quickly my eyes obeyed him. “What happened, Chiara?”
“N-Nothing,” I stuttered, hating myself for my weakness.
“That’s a lie.” His voice dropped lower now. Colder. Dangerously calm. I swallowed hard against the pressure building in my chest. I would not tell him. I wouldn’t become the reason blood spilled tonight. I’d already ruined enough. “Chiara.”
The way he said my name made heat slide low through my stomach despite everything. I despised myself for that. Leo studied my face silently for several long seconds. Candlelight flickered across the hard lines of his jaw while his dark eyes searched mine with terrifying intensity.
Then his gaze dropped. Down my throat. My chest. My spread thighs. The ribbons of ruined lace. The hunger that darkened his face made my pulse skip painfully.
“You’re still wet for me,” he murmured. “Second time I’m seeing you like this and your words deny it, but we both know how much you want to be taken.”
Humiliation scorched straight through me. I instinctively tried closing my legs, but his large hands spread them wider again.
“No,” he hissed. The single word wrapped around my throat like silk. My body reacted traitorously.
