Chapter 13 – Vanessa #2
“I have no desire to be anything like the man you were very nearly married off to.” His thumb brushes over my cheek, and it gets hard to breathe.
“You’ve repeatedly asked why I went out of my way to save you, and I thought long and hard about that question.
I could lie and tell you it was an attempt to honor my mother’s memory, since something similar very nearly happened to her.
But the truth is, I married you because I wanted you. ”
He leans closer, his pupils huge, round saucers.
No one wants to admit when they’re in over their head, but when it comes to him, I’m drowning.
My tongue darts over my dry lips, and my nipples ache as I wait to see if he’s going to kiss me. The kiss we shared during his announcement is barely a hazy memory. I was too shocked to enjoy it, and just when I was finally getting the hang of kissing him back, he was gone.
Moretti’s head dips lower, and his hand slides up my jaw until his palm cradles my skull.
He weaves his fingers into my hair, and his lips slam against mine.
That short beard of his scratches my skin, and my fingers dig into his shirt.
He tastes faintly of alcohol and cigarettes.
The latter, I never thought I would find appealing, but it strangely works for him.
My system buzzes, asking for something, but I’m too distracted to know what.
Moretti rakes his teeth over my lower lip, making me gasp. He doesn’t miss a beat, shoving his tongue into my mouth. His other palm lands on my ribs, and his hand is so large that his fingers dig into my back as he holds me in place.
I have no illusions about who is in control of the kiss. He’s bossy and commanding in a way that signals to my instincts that it’s time to be pliant and submissive. He could order me right out of my panties, and I would comply without question.
Every gasping breath floods my system with his electric scent, and it makes my skin sizzle.
I want him in a way that’s hard to explain, but it’s my instincts that are trying to convince me that we need him.
Shit.
I think that scent crush is turning into a man crush.
My clit pulses as my pheromones flood the air. There’s no way he won’t be able to smell my arousal. A low growl vibrates from his chest, and I moan.
Moretti uses his hold in my hair to pull my head back as he nips and sucks at my lower lip. I’m breathless and achy by the time he breaks from the kiss.
If I was more coherent, I would be embarrassed by how hard my chest heaves. My self-control seems to have disappeared because my thoughts all revolve around how best to get him to stretch me out over his desk.
Being stretched over his knot would be even better.
“If I’m not careful, I’ll turn into a monster that you won’t be able to stand,” he says, shocking me out of my thoughts.
“What?”
“I’m an only child. No one ever forced me to share.” His lips ghost over mine. “And I’ve never wanted anything quite as badly as I want you.”
My forehead wrinkles. “And that’s a bad thing?”
“It is when you’re an omega.” He pecks a kiss on my lips and releases his hold on my hair, standing and backing away. He skirts around his desk and heads back to the patio door. Grabbing another cigarette, he holds it in his teeth, lighting it and stepping into the cold.
My hands land on the arms of the club chair, and I push myself up before stalking him across the room. “You’re incredibly frustrating—”
“I trust Hawk more than anyone else.” Moretti exhales a cloud of smoke, turning to face me. “I ordered him to watch you. Told him to give you whatever you needed, and I still thought about slitting his throat when I saw you in his shirt.”
My jaw falls.
Wow.
He is a confusing man.
“You’re the one who told me to do as I pleased—”
“I did,” he agrees, taking a drag of his cigarette. “And I meant it. I’m not entirely sure I wouldn’t break you without meaning to. Spend some time getting to know who you are without your family controlling every aspect of your life.”
“You don’t get to kiss me like that, then just—”
“Good night, Vanessa.”
My eyes narrow as my fury builds.
He’s either seriously conflicted about forcing me to marry him or he’s playing games.
Either way, I have no intention of begging him to get his shit together. Flipping him off with both hands, I spin and take my leave.
A shower does wonders for my sore muscles, but not a thing to help me feel less sexually frustrated.
Once the shock wore off, I decided I’m going to take Moretti’s words at face value. Hell, maybe he has some trauma about not wanting to feel like he pressured me into a relationship. I have no clue, but it makes me reflect on myself and how I’ve changed since being in his orbit.
I’m not sure I’m a fan of how needy I am without the suppressants. All I can focus on is how much I want to steal Hawk’s and Moretti’s sheets and dirty laundry to stash them under my pillows.
I’m already in my pajama dress and drying my hair when Hawk knocks, sticking his head into the bedroom.
Did I not lock the door before my shower? It’s a good thing he didn’t pop in five minutes earlier, or he would have gotten an eyeful. Except he got a full view of my tits last night during my meltdown about the clothes.
“Hey,” he says in his low, gravelly tone. “Are you calling it a night?”
I pull the towel away from my hair and nod. “I am. Just making sure you can clock out?”
He grunts, nodding. “Never got that shower earlier. I’m about to fix that. Then, yeah, the shitty couch is calling my name.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to offer to share the giant pack bed with him, but I’m fairly sure he would turn me down in two seconds flat.
The men in this house could really fuck with my self-esteem if I let them.