Page 4 of Bound in Vengeance
His gaze drifts from my mask to my heels.
“You’re clearly not one of the invited guests,” he says. “How did you get an invite?”
I swallow. Is he on to me? The need to get out of here —alive—is stronger than ever. I plaster a smile on my face and slowly walk toward him.
“I wanted to have some fun, so I stole the card,” I answer, light and cheeky. “Is that what you want to hear?”
I’m in front of him now, only a hair’s breadth between us. The air between us is thick, heavy with an electric current that threatens to snap at any second. Before I can say more, Alessandro slides his fingers into my hair, tightening his grip at the back of my head, and tugs once, forcing my face up toward his. Heat sparks violently through me.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his breath hot against my lips, sending a shiver straight down my spine. "Trembling before I’ve even touched you."
With his other hand, he slowly takes off his mask, revealing his sharp, striking face. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against mine without quite taking them, teasing me until I’m practically begging for the contact.
"You want this," he whispers against my skin, his voice a low, gravelly command. "Show me how much you want it."
Then he lowers his head fully. My lips part just as his mouth crashes over mine. The kiss tastes like violence. Like fire. It devastates me, wiping off every other physical encounter I’ve had. His tongue tangles with mine hungrily, claiming my mouth with an intense, possessive heat, while his free hand slides down my neck, his thumb tracing the racing pulse at my throat before moving lower to bruise the sensitive skin of my collarbone.
I’m no virgin. Domenico and I were together for months before he died. But this kiss alone, the sheer filth and hunger of it, feels more intense than anything I ever experienced with him, which immediately fills me with guilt. Alarm bells start screaming somewhere in my head.
This is wrong. I should shove him away. My hands slide against his chest slowly, feeling hard muscle beneath the thin white shirt. I let my fingers drift up casually, toward the breast-pocket, where he slid the key.
Just before I can reach it, Alessandro catches my wrist. He breaks the kiss suddenly, a dark, knowing smirk playing on his lips.
"Did you really think you could play me?" he growls, his grip tightening.
He spins me around and pushes me onto the bed. A sharp gasp escapes me as warmth floods between my legs.
What is happening to me?
Alessandro stalks forward like a predator cornering its prey. He grabs my ankles, yanking hard until my backside hits the edge of the bed, then he pushes my dress up to my waist. I usually have more underwear under my clothing, but for tonight, because of this flimsy dress, I had to go with just panties. I’ve never felt so exposed.
"Look at you," he purrs, his eyes dark with pure heat as he stares down at me. "Dressed like a whore for me, begging for it."
He should not be speaking to me like this, yet his words send heat straight to my pussy. Why do I like this?
“Alessandro,” I gasp, my voice shaking.
He smirks, leaning over me, his hands pinning my wrists above my head. “You know who I am.”
I start to shake my head, but he ignores me. “That means you know exactly what I’m capable of doing to you.”
Before I can respond, he releases my wrists only to push my knees back toward my face until I’m bent in half, completely open to him.
“Stay right there,” he says, like he’s talking to a child. “Don’t you dare move a single inch.”
I frown and am about to spring off the bed, but he’s already leaning down, his hot breath anchoring me in place.
"Let's see how wet you are for me,slut," he whispers filthily against my bare skin.
He shifts my panties to the side and gives a long, deliberate lick from my ass to my pussy, before burying his face between my thighs and sucking my clit deeply into his mouth.
I moan so loud that shame floods me.
My whole body spasms, and my hands scramble to fist the silk sheets. Alessandro is relentless. His tongue is rough, swirling around my sensitive clit like he’s punishing me for something.
Every time he sucks, a new wave of heat rolls through me. I’m not a vocal person during sex, I just moan here and there. But I can’t stay still now. I’m thrashing so hard, Alessandro snakes an arm around my waist to lock me in place.
“Please…” I cry. “Please…”
