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Glossy jet-black hair falls in sleek sheets over her shoulders and down her exposed back, brushing her narrow waist and stopping just short of a peach of
Exquisite high cheekbones reside underneath flawless olive skin. Piercing green eyes, framed by thick black lashes,
“What do I strike you as?” He lifts a brow, humoring me. “An arrogant asshole with a god complex who’s used to getting anything
his heart desires even if it means trampling over others and sacrificing human decency to get it.”
What on Earth is happening? I hate I’m attracted to the man who thinks I’m a commodity he can buy on a whim. I hate my brain is being hijacked by my body. I hate my body is in full insta-lust mode and craving a man who is old enough to be my father.
I consider how wrong it is to crave her. She’s almost twenty years younger than me, and I’m old enough to be her father.
Yeah, I’m definitely fooling myself if I think this is temporary. What I’m feeling is not temporary. It’s not just lust either. I want to smother her, cherish her, protect her, love her. My thoughts terrify me like I’ve never been terrified before. Especially because they feel right. I’ve made up my mind. I’m not sure how I’m going to pull it off, but I’ll figure out a way. I’m not giving her back. She’s mine.
“Don’t ever refer to yourself as a whore again.” “Why not? You paid for me. I am a whore.” “You are not a whore, and I only paid for you because you are married.” “And if I wasn’t?” “I would have claimed you as mine the instant I locked eyes on you.
I’m under no illusion. He’s a dangerous made man, and in my experience, they’re mostly selfish pricks with little respect for women. I doubt Fiero is much different. This is probably an act to butter me up, but I’ll take it because I’m just that desperate for affection.
He is incredibly sexy with that cheeky boyish grin, the mischievous glint in his big blue eyes, mop of white-blond hair falling over his brow, and the layer of dark stubble coating his jawline.
It’s sad that one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me comes from a man who bought me.
Fiero Maltese is slowly bringing me back to life, and there isn’t a single bone in my body that regrets it.
“You’re not like them,” I rush to reassure him. “I won’t lie and say I’m not disgusted you propositioned my husband and effectively bought me, but you’re not fucking me in lieu of a cash debt; you’re doing it because you want me, and you’ve already treated me better in two days than my husband has treated me in six years.”
I think there’s a compliment mixed in with that misogynistic crap, but again, I’m clearly a nutjob because I love he wants to get violent to seek revenge for me.
“I want you by my side forever, Valentina.” He cups my cheeks. “I mean every word I say to you. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and I’m letting nothing stand in our way.” “I want to believe it, but nothing good ever lasts long in my life, and I’m afraid to trust this.”
“I know we barely know one another, but it’s what I feel in my heart, and it doesn’t feel wrong to say it.” His lips brush against mine. “I don’t expect you to say it back. Not yet.” He places his palm over my heart. “You’ve been hurt, and you don’t trust easily for good reason. I know it’ll take time, and I’m okay with that. Just open your heart and give in to the possibility. That’s all I ask. Don’t shut me out or discount what we share
“What? I can’t help it. I’ve waited my entire life for you, Valentina. I don’t feel like waiting any longer.” “You’re very romantic for a playboy.” “Reformed playboy. I haven’t been that man for years.” “You continue to surprise me,” I truthfully admit,
“I’m struggling to reconcile my wants and needs.” She twists on my lap, settling over my morning wood with her thighs straddling me. “I want my independence, but I’ll lose it again if I marry you.” “No, you won’t. You can have all the independence you want. Marriage shouldn’t be a cage. We can love one another while giving one another space. I know, I know, I’m
jealous, possessive beast at times, but it doesn’t mean you’ll be trapped. I want you to be your own person in our relationship, Valentina. I won’t curtail your movements unless there’s a security risk. I’ll encourage your passions and ambitions and welcome any friendships you make. I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner. I want this to feel like home. We can fly Nina and your siblings in, and you can go visit them.” I hold her face and stare her straight in the eye so she understands I’m serious.
