Chapter 3 #3
This time, she was prepared. He might be as naked as when he’d kissed her goodnight, but she was standing upright, not pinned beneath him.
If she felt it necessary, she could raise her knee and swiftly connect it to his balls, something she still wished she’d done when she was fourteen.
But she’d been caught off-guard back then. She would never let that happen again.
Elio’s smile when their eyes locked made her want to punch him in the face.
The vampiric silver eyes glittering, he lightly rubbed the back of his fingers over her cheekbone. “You are exquisite,” he murmured, gently threading his fingers through her damp hair and slipping an arm around her waist. Bringing his mouth to hers, he whispered, “Simply exquisite.”
Closing her eyes, Siena told herself she was a mannequin, an inanimate object. She had no capacity to feel anything or react to stimuli. Elio’s mouth could be a piece of tissue she used to blot her lipstick…
Except a tissue wasn’t deceitfully warm and inviting. It didn’t caress her lips the way Elio’s mouth was doing, slowly coaxing them to mould to it and part…
Moisture filled her mouth, and as hard as she tried to block out the sensations slowly unfurling inside her and give him nothing, when his tongue slid against hers in fresh exploration, she was helpless to stop herself exploring his mouth in turn.
There was movement against her belly, a growing hardness pressing against the softness of her skin.
The fingers in her hair tightened, the arm around her waist pulling her flush to him, and suddenly sensation was everywhere.
Tingling heat pulsed like a hot, heavy beat between her legs; the urge to tilt her pelvis and press herself against him so strong that if Elio hadn’t pulled his mouth from hers, there was no saying she wouldn’t have done it.
Still holding her flush to him, he rubbed his cheek to hers. His stubble scratching her skin, he seductively murmured, “You are allowed to touch me, wife.”
But Siena could hardly breathe. Forget finding the strength to push him away; it was taking everything she had not to melt into the hard heat of the body still enveloping hers. Taking even more not to turn her cheek and seek his mouth for another of his bone-melting kisses.
“You’ve had your kiss,” she whispered hoarsely. “Now take your filthy hands off me.”
The hand on her back slid down and clasped her butt cheek, pulling her even tighter against his arousal, but before she could find what was needed to wrench herself away from him, he’d let her go.
The hateful, mocking smile on his lips, he brought his face down to hers. “I love it when you talk dirty. Can I look forward to more dirty talk when you seduce me tonight?”
“Fuck you.”
He laughed and strolled to the door. “Oh, you will, my little wife. Tonight. If not, you know what the consequences will be.”
“Even if it all comes at my initiation, it will still be rape,” she spat.
He turned his head back to her, his silver eyes dangerous with amusement. “You can tell yourself that, but your body betrays the lies your tongue speaks.”
“What, because I responded to your kiss?” she scorned, as furious at his arrogance as she was at her own treacherous body. “So what? With all the practice you’ve had, it would be more surprising if you couldn’t coax a reaction from me.”
His eyes still dancing, he looked her up and down. “All my practice?”
“Your reputation is foul. You’re as big a slut as the man my cousin’s fallen for, and that kiss meant nothing.”
“And there I was thinking you knew nothing of me apart from my name,” he said silkily.
“I didn’t even know that until a few years ago,” she spat.
“Your name was nothing but a part of the folklore of my family’s history, and not even your name.
You, as a person, weren’t even a footnote, and you don’t even deserve that.
You’re a man-whore, Elio. You don’t just screw women and leave them like Francesca’s Gino did; you treat women as if they’re just their bodies, as if they’re nothing but walking vaginas for you to fuck. ”
He’d stilled so much that in the weighted silence that followed, Siena had the sensation Elio had become a mannequin himself.
Fear trickled up her spine, breaking through the furious blood pounding in her head.
When he finally spoke, his voice was like steel.
“My name might have meant nothing to you in the years you lived as a pampered princess in the home built on the blood of my family, but it’s one I will make damned sure is front and centre in your mind for the rest of your life.
When I’m inside you tonight, princess, know that the loathing you feel for me is nothing on the hatred I hold for you.
Know that every time I’m fucking your beautiful body, you mean less to me than any of the walking vaginas I was with before you.
” A cold, cruel smile curved on his lips.
“Or, if the thought of your future makes you want to scream, you can return to your family today and make the most of the time you have left together before I destroy the whole lot of you.”