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“You should buy a nice set of manners to match your suit, Mr. Russo. As a luxury goods CEO, you know better than anyone how one ugly accessory can ruin an outfit.”
Who needed therapy when you could punch your friend in the face every week?
“Here I thought you only ate caviar and human hearts.”
Vivian’s laugh evoked a strange sensation in my chest. Heartburn? Investigate later.
“Should I come back after you’ve finished ogling her?” Christian swirled the ice in his glass. “I don’t want to intrude on a private moment.”
“Missed me?” Amusement lengthened his drawl. “As much as a sailor misses scurvy.”
“Next time you want to mark your ‘territory,’ you might as well urinate in a circle around me,” Vivian said after Kai left. “It’ll be more subtle.”
“You forget.” I pressed my fingers against her nape, forcing her to look up at me. “You’re my fiancée. Not Kai’s. Not anyone else’s. I don’t give a fuck how handsome they are or what type of accent they have. You’re mine, and no one…” I dipped my head, my lips brushing hers with each word. “Touches what’s mine.”
She wasn’t my wife yet, but she was mine. No one threatened what was mine.
“How does he look at me?” Janis smiled. “Like he never wants to look away.”
“Hai un sapore divino,” I murmured.
“One kiss for each of my injuries. That’s it. Would you deny a dying man his last wish?”
He’d always been intimidating, but in that moment, he looked larger than life, like the devil himself had left hell to exact his retribution.
“I hate the idea of you touching anyone else, or anyone else touching you. I hate that other people can make you laugh in a way I can’t. I hate how I feel around you, like you’re the only person that can make me lose control when I. Don’t. Lose. Control.”
“You want to know the truth, Vivian? If I loved you as much as he claims to love you, nothing would’ve stopped me from keeping you.”
“Because you’re mine.” His teeth scored my neck. “You wear my ring. You’ve come on my face and hand. You live in my head all the fucking time, even if I don’t want you to...” His palm slid to my hip, where his fingers dug grooves into my skin. “And God, I want to punish you for driving me so damn crazy. Every. Single. Day.”
“You can’t see the stars in New York,” Dante said. “So I brought the stars to you.”
