Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
With a guttural groan, he released in my mouth. I had trouble swallowing as he twitched on my tongue. He moved back so only his tip remained on my tongue as the last waves of his orgasm wrecked his body. His release dripped out of the corner of my mouth and down my chin. He pulled out, then wiped his thumb over my chin before he bent down and kissed me firmly. His tongue dipped in, and another moan vibrated in his chest. He drew back with a sated smile. “Tasting myself in your sinful mouth is the best thing I can imagine.”
I sank my teeth into my lower lip with a small smile, exhausted and utterly sated. Nestore kissed me again, then he picked me up and pressed me against his chest. “Time for sleep, Amelia.”
I carried Amelia upstairs, cradled against my chest, her cheek pressed up to the very heart that beat only for her. For once, my pulse was steady, and I felt calm and relaxed. Maybe this was what peace meant.
With Amelia in my hold, it felt within reach. I lowered her to the bed and regarded her for a while, the perfect curve of her hips, the dip of her waist, the tantalizing triangle between her thighs. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get enough of the sight of her, the taste of her, the feel of her. I stretched out beside her and pulled her against my body. She slung her leg over my hip, bringing us even closer. I dipped my head until my nose brushed her collarbone and drew in a deep breath. Amelia’s sweetness mingled with the headiness of sex. “Only you can get this close.”
The idea that anyone would wrap themselves around me like she did tightened my throat and made me want to lash out brutally.
Amelia let out a low, content hum, sounding drowsy. It was midnight. I rarely slept this early.
I waited for Amelia’s breathing to even out before I untangled myself from her, covered her with the blankets, and got up. One thing was missing from my nightly routine: a visit with Achille Lamorgese.
Sometimes it seemed impossible that he could have fathered such a wonderful creature as Amelia.
Draping my fur coat over my shoulders and putting on pants, I slipped out and headed downstairs. The cold from the stone of the basement seeped into my bare feet, but didn’t make me shy back. This floor, its unrelenting cold, had been my home for so long.
When I arrived at the last cell, Lamorgese cowered on his bed. He stirred, and his fearful gaze found me. I sank into the chair I kept in front of the cell for my nightly visits. In the beginning, I had tortured Lamorgese every time I came down here. I had been desperate to dish out the same pain I had suffered for years. Nowadays, I contented myself with his fear. He never knew when I’d feel like causing him pain, and that was far worse than the certainty.
“Amelia is now my wife,” I said, my chest swelling with triumph.
“She ran from you. Why would you marry her?”
The sting of betrayal came suddenly. I masked my emotions. Lamorgese wouldn’t best me, especially not by weaponizing Amelia. “Because I want her. Because it pleases me to know that one Lamorgese rots in my basement while the other cries out for my cock.”
A bitter taste spread on my tongue. Talking about Amelia like that felt…wrong. But this was about more than her and me.
“I bet she cried out for other cocks while she was gone,” he rasped.
I jerked up and unlocked his cell, then stormed in, overcome by rage. I kicked and punched him. The last time I had been this unrestrained had been more than a year ago. Amelia could make my blood boil in so many ways.
I eased up and straightened, my breathing harsh. Lamorgese lay curled up on the floor, breathing raggedly. “Amelia’s firsts are all mine, and you will hold your tongue in the future, or I’ll have to cut out what’s left of it.”
A movement drew my head around. A flash of white disappeared from view. I rushed out, locked the cell, and set off after her.
I caught up with Amelia on the stairwell to the first floor. My fingers closed around her arm, and I turned her around. She stumbled against me and would have lost her balance, had I not blocked the step below. She gripped my shoulders, her eyes wide and glassy.
“You shed tears for your father?” I growled.
Her brows puckered, and pity filled her eyes. “I’m crying for you. For what you’ve become. You act like him and don’t even realize it.”
I pushed her against the banister. “I’m not like him!”
“Not to me, and not in every regard, but in the way you treat him, you are.”