Page 84 of Lust and Honor

“She’s in her own little world,” he mutters.

I grab his hand again, this time pulling it up and giving it a hard nip. He doesn’t even flinch, just raises an eyebrow and shoots me a crooked glance. When he turns his eyes back to the road, he nods toward the horizon.

“Look. We’re almost there.”

I follow his gaze, and at the top of the hill, where the road ends, I catch sight of an ancient castle peeking through the multicolored trees. It’s got to be centuries old.

“So you mafia men throw weddings in castles?” I ask, half-teasing.

“This place is a thousand years old,” he says. “Renovated a few years back, rented out to tourists now. Pietro held his son’s wedding here because it’s secure. If anyone tries to hit us, we can defend ourselves just fine.”

“Who’d try to hit us?”

“Other mafia families. The big ones, Giuliano and Sardini.”

He catches the worry flickering in my eyes. His fingers brush my chin, soothing me.

“Don’t worry. The last time those bastards messed with us, Carlo hit them from land and air with two armies and wiped the floor with them. Nobody dares go up against Carlo Bruni.”

***

I smooth out the last strand of my hair with the flat iron, grab a black hair tie, and pull my hair into a high ponytail. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I give myself a once-over. Tonight’s the bride’s bachelorette party, and I’m damn pleased with my choice of outfit: a shiny black cocktail dress with thin straps and a hem just above the knee, paired with a long necklace that matches perfectly.

The door swings open, and Maxim steps in. He’s wearing a fitted black shirt, no tie, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He got a haircut before the trip, and now, looking dangerously hot, he’s headed to the bachelor party at the indoor pool.

The moment he sees me, his eyes light up like always, his chest rising and falling. I don’t take the bait and sit on the bed to slip on my high heels, trying to change the subject before his hungry stare pulls me in and I miss the party altogether.

“Aurora didn’t put up a fight anymore, did she?” I ask.

She’d been whining all morning about not wanting to go anywhere near Luca, but Maxim, with a thousand sweet words and a promise of an ice cream as big as her head, finally convinced her to go play with the other kids.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, his shadow looms over me. As I fasten the straps of my heels, his hands slide under my shoulders, lifting me up and tossing me onto the bed. Before I can slip away, his weight pins me down. He leans in to kiss me, but I dodge with a laugh, squealing,

“Stop it, you’ll ruin my makeup!”

He buries his face in the crook of my neck, trailing soft kisses across my skin that tickle and make my laughter burst out even louder.

“Maxim, stop, you’ll mess up my hair!”

“Why aren’t you wearing a bra?” He murmurs against my skin as his palm settles over the curve of my breast.

“Because I didn’t feel like it!”

He lifts his head, eyebrows shooting up as he gives me that look. Then he dips back down, pinning my head in place this time so he can claim my lips. The heat of his mouth hits me, and my resistance crumbles. I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, kissing him back with a hunger that matches his. His fingers slide under the short hem of my dress, grazing my slit through my panties with two teasing fingers. My whole body jolts at his touch, and I press myself harder against his solid frame.

“Drink all you want, dance your ass off, but you stay away from any male strippers.”

His voice is pure sex, but the tone’s dead serious, laced with a threat. In an instant, the heat of his mouth and the caress of his hands vanish, leaving me aching. He steps back, grabs a wet wipe, and cleans my lipstick off his mouth.

I glare at him and get to my feet. Fixing my makeup under his shameless gaze, I turn back to face him. In these heels, I almost reach his shoulder, no need to tilt my head back to look him in the eye. I rest my hands on his chest, sliding them down over the hard lines of his abs, stopping just above that perfect V. My gaze locks on his.

“What if I feel like being a little naughty?” My hand dips lower, stroking over his pants. “Someone’s got me all worked up and sending me off to a party.”

He grabs my ass and presses me into the hard length straining against his zipper. “That someone’s gonna finish what he started right on this bed tonight, my sexy little thing.”

I nip at his earlobe. “Guess I can wait a few hours for him then.”

He squeezes my ass harder, then lands a sharp smack on it. “We’d better go before I decide to cancel the party and fuck you senseless till morning.”