Page 21 of Crowned in Sin
And then he leans down, and the kiss he gives me is soft and brief. Just the lightest brush of lip on lip. Enough to satisfy the formality.
But I’ve had enough of things being donetome. Enough of standing still and absorbing it. So before he can pull back, I curl my fingers into the lapel of his jacket, rise to my tiptoes, and kiss him back with both intention and the reckless logic of someone who has decided that if I have to be here, then I’m going to takesomethingwith me.
His lips are soft and warm in the morning breeze, and the moment they touch mine, it erases all thoughts from my head. He doesn’t react at first. I think maybe he’s also surprised at what I just did.
But then his lips part, and just like that, I can’t breathe as my heart suddenly goes still while my skin burns.
His arm hooks around my waist and he pulls me closer as he responds in kind. His large hand presses into the small of my back to draw me flush against him. My skin is tingling under his touch, and I can’t help the moan that bubbles out of my throat as my tongue darts out into his mouth to taste him.
When he matches me, I let myself stay in the intensity of the kiss, wet and warm. And all the while, I imagine that maybe if I pretend hard enough, then it can feel real.
Then, I pull back, heart racing and breath uneven, and ask one final thing. “Will this be all, Don Nico?”
“As my wife,” he says. “There are certain duties you are expected to perform.”
My heart drops to my stomach, and I stare up at him, blinking. I knew this part was coming, but hearing it out loud doesn’t make it any easier to bear.
I let the words take shape on my lips by their own accord. “And if I refuse to perform them? Are you going to make me?”
“No,” he replies. “I’m not my father. If you refuse, I won’t make you.”
I stare up at him. If what he says is supposed to make me feel better, it doesn’t. Because his father set the bar so fucking low in the ground that you have to dig it up to find it.
“A generous offer for your prisoner.”
“I told you, you’re my wife,” he says. “You’re not a prisoner.”
“No?” I ask back. “I tried to open my window after you brought me back last night, and it was nailed shut. So forgive me if I'm having a hard time believing you right now.”
“You don’t have to believe me to know I’m being honest.”
“If we’re being honest with each other right now, then answer me this.” I narrow my eyes. “Why did you choose to marry me if all you needed was my silence?”
Looking into my eyes, he thumbs my cheek and ignites my skin with his touch. “It kills two birds with one stone.”
I look at him, unable to think as long as he keeps looking at me with those amber eyes and continues touching my cheek.
Finally, I push him away from me and whisper. "I'll never love you, Nico D'Ambrosio."
The corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly. "Never said anything about love,piccola."
He doesn’t stopme as I rush back inside of the house, wanting to put as much distance between me and him as I can. I climb the stairs, rush past a surprised looking Giorgia, and don’t look back until I reach my room, slamming the door shut behind me.
I lean against it, and the full weight of the morning hits me all at once. The pin Giorgia used to keep the strap on my shoulder finally gives, and the strap slides off my shoulder once more.
I don't bother to push it back.
Who the fuck does he think he is?
The thought comes up hot and fast and I let it. Who does he think he is, marching me to an altar? Putting a dress on me that doesn't fit. Making decisions about my life without any input from me. Looking at me like that during a ceremony I never asked to be at. Telling me I haveprivilegeswhile he keeps me locked up like an animal.
And all while looking like something I can’t stop myself from wanting even if you press a gun to my head.
The anger burns bright for a moment.
And then it flickers out when I look down at the ring on my finger. All of a sudden, I can’t stop thinking about Mom, and her frantic text.
I need help, baby. Please.
