Page 49 of His Kidnapped Queen
I huff out a breath but keep eating, ravenous. Luca just watches me with unreadable green eyes.
“How long have you been tailing me?”
“Ihaven’tbeen tailing you,” I say, my mouth full. I chew and swallow before finishing. “I told you, I was just out to have some fun.”
“And you just happened to show up at my brother’s fight?” He raises an eyebrow. “You really expect me to believe that?”
My shoulders slump. “No. But it’s the truth. I’m not a cop anymore.”
“Liar.” He leans down, close to my ear. “Tell me what you know.”
I tilt my chin up, staring at him. He’s close now, too close. My skin starts to feel hot and I climb off the bed to get away from him, turning my back.
“What’s the story, pixie? You want me to believe what you told me? That you’re just a whore to thugs and criminals?”
Suddenly it’s anger instead of arousal heating my blood, and I whirl around with my hand out to slap him.
He grabs my wrist to stop me and when I try to hit him with my other hand, balled up in a fist, he grabs my other wrist, too, quick, striking like a snake.
Damn it.Now I’m aroused again. He slams my back against the far wall, pinning my wrists above my head. I’m panting as I look up at him.
“Don’t even try it,” I spit out as he looks at my lips.
He chuckles low in his throat and the sound travels over my skin like honey.
“Don’t flatter yourself. You think I’d kiss you? You think I’d give you that, after all the lies you’ve told me tonight?”
“Give me that? Don’t flatteryourself.”
“Keep telling yourself you don’t want me, pixie.” He mumbles something in Italian that I don’t quite catch.
“What was that?”
“Surprised you speak the language. Thought maybe you were only pretending to be.”
“My father is first-generation Sicilian-American,” I say proudly.
“And what, you think that means you know how I tick?” he asks derisively. He’s someanbut he’s hard against my hip as he presses himself against me.
“I know you want me,” I breathe, and I tell myself I’m trying to seduce him so that I can get the hell out of here. So that maybe he’ll let down his guard long enough for me to escape. But deep down, I know that’s not true. I know that I could probably push him away, wait for another opening.
But God, I want him to kiss me. He doesn’t, though, and he doesn’t deny my words, just looking down at me with intense green eyes and breathing hard.
I lean up to kiss him and he pulls his head away.
There’s this weird twinge in my heart, but instead of bristling I kiss his throat. He draws in a ragged breath that sounds like it hurts him.
I lift my head and his lips crash down on mine. His tongue prods at my lips until I open my mouth with a soft moan. He shoves it into my mouth, making me moan loader. As his tongue explores my mouth, he lets me go.
But instead of hitting him and pushing him away, instead of fighting him, I wrap my arms around his neck and melt against him.
His hands grab my hips, picking me up then slamming me back against the wall with his body. It only makes me kiss him harder, our teeth nearly gnashing together in our haste.
I can’t think. I can barely breathe, because this is all I’ve wanted for nearly three years. I should hate him, but the way he kisses me, the way he touches me…
I can’t resist it.
My body sings as he rolls his hips, the bulge of his erection in his slacks pressing against my core. I’m so wet I’m soaking through my thong.
