Page 89 of The Serpent's Bride
Heat flooded between my thighs as his palms slid slowly higher along my bare skin. The roughness of his hands against the softness of my thighs made my breath catch despite how hard I fought it.
“You hate me so much,” he murmured softly. “And your cunt still leaks for me anyway.”
“I don’t want this,” I insisted.
“Another lie,” he smirked. “At least you’re fighting me again. I love how stubborn you are.”
His thumb dragged deliberately through the slick heat between my legs. A broken gasp escaped me before I could stop it. Leo’s eyes darkened.
“There she is,” he muttered. “My innocent little wife.”
I covered my face, horrified by the sound that had just come out of me. His hand slid around my wrist slowly. “Don’t hide from me.”
“I hate you,” I whispered again weakly.
“You keep saying that while dripping all over my fingers,” he said. Heat exploded across my entire body. “Tell me to stop. You know how much I love that.”
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. Because the horrible truth sat thick and burning inside my chest. I didn’t want him to stop. Even after the lies. Even after the humiliation. Even after he ruined my life.
Something was deeply wrong with me.
Leo watched realization break across my face slowly, and something almost possessive flashed in his expression. His thumb stroked through me again. Slower this time. The wet sound of it filled the candlelit suite obscenely loud. My thighs trembled.
“That’s what I thought,” he said softly. “This time, you can’t even deny it. When will you beg for me again, Chiara? Where’s the desperately needy little fiancée who bared herself for me?”
Then he dropped the knife carelessly onto the sheets beside me. The metallic clink made me jump slightly. Leo noticed. But instead of mocking me for it, his large hands slid slowly up my thighs again, spreading me wider against the black silk while he lowered himself back onto his knees between my legs. The sight alone nearly destroyed me.
A man like Leo Moretti should never kneel. Yet there he was between my thighs in a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dark tattoos exposed beneath candlelight while he looked at me like I was something he wanted to consume. My pulse hammered so violently I could hear it.
“You went quiet again,” he murmured. “Give me more, Chiara. I want it all.”
“I’m trying not to…” I whispered.
“Not to what?” he demanded.
Want you.
The words nearly slipped out. I bit them back hard enough it hurt. Leo leaned forward slowly, his mouth brushing the inside of my thigh. Not where I needed him. Close enough to make my body ache for it anyway. A shaky breath escaped me. His lips curved slightly against my skin.
“There’s my wife,” he said proudly. “My good, obedient little slut.”
Then his tongue dragged slowly along the sensitive inside of my thigh. My back arched. “Oh God, please, Leo, don’t… Don’t stop.”
The sound slipped out before I could stop it. Leo groaned softly beneath his breath at my reaction, and the dark sound curled low through my stomach like smoke.
“There you fucking are,” he murmured. “Hidden under all that lace. All fucking mine now.”
Heat pulsed violently between my legs now, humiliating and impossible to control. His hands tightened around my thighs before his mouth moved higher. Closer and closer.
But every time I thought he’d finally touch me where I needed him, he pulled back slightly instead. Teasing me. Torturing me. My breathing turned ragged embarrassingly fast.
“Leo,” I whispered shakily.
“Yes,bellissima?” he growled.
The pet name wrapped around me like heat. “Please, more.”
The second the words left my mouth, his eyes flashed darkly upward toward mine.
