Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
A slow smile spread across his lips, and that concentrated look in his eyes started to soften. It was subtle and hardly noticeable to anyone who didn’t know him as well as I did, but I saw it. Saw the way my words meant the world to him, the way his meant the world to me.
17
FRANCESCA
I slept like a rock.
Slept like Warren hadn’t tried to steal me from my home a few nights ago. Slept like my father hadn’t taken away my inheritance when I didn’t comply with his demands. Slept like I didn’t have a care in the world.
When I woke up in the big, comfy bed, there was a gorgeous man beside me, and the first thing he did when he looked at me was smile. His big hand slid my shirt up and over my hip as he snuggled closer to me. His fingers grazed over my ass and gave it a squeeze before he brought his caress down my thigh. “Morning, baby.”
“Morning.” The drapes were closed, so the room was dark even though it was probably late morning outside. Hints of light came in through the gaps above the floor, so it was enough to see his handsome face next to mine.
“Want to take a trip?”
“To where?” I asked.
“Palermo. I can show you my place. Take you to all the hot spots.”
I’d been to Palermo before, but just for a weekend trip here and there. Hadn’t spent as much time there as I’d like.
“Wear a skimpy little bikini at the beach.” His wide grin was visible in the dark.
“You don’t care if men look at me?”
“They can look all they want.” He grabbed my leg and hiked it over his hip as he started to roll me onto my back. “But only I can touch.” I wore no bottoms, so he squeezed between my thighs as he settled over me, his big dick nudging my entrance like it knew exactly where to find it. He sank inside me slowly, giving me a second to adjust since I’d just opened my eyes minutes ago, and he moaned when he finally gained entry. “Only I can have you.”
We left his home and made the drive across the island to the northern coast. It was a long drive, but his hand rested on my thigh throughout the journey, and he glanced at me from time to time, and whenever he did, he smiled.
I’d never seen Wolfe smile so much. He wasn’t exactly a smiley kind of guy.
When we arrived at the coast, the city was congested with tourists, but Wolfe didn’t show his frustration when traffic impeded our journey. Palermo was different from Taormina because the city was mostly flat before it reached the ocean, but he had a unique property that was slightly uphill on one of the streets. A three-story villa with an underground parking garage and a terrace on top, it was beautiful. Gated with no way to reach the entrance without passing through the iron gate, it was somehow secluded even in the middle of a bustling city. The house was close to the water too, a short distance to the dock and beaches.
We took the elevator to the ground floor, and I was immediately mesmerized by his property. With dark hardwood floors and colorful sculptures and paintings, it had Sicilian pops of color. There was a large statue of Medusa in the foyer, the snakes radiating from her head, made of a cerulean blue marble. His other home was far more modernized, and while a dream house for everyone, it was mostly muted in colors and flair. But this house felt cozy and warm, Wolfe’s presence noticeable even without him standing right beside me.
The downstairs had a large sitting room and a couple of rooms, along with a chef’s kitchen. There were three main floors to the place, and I assumed his primary suite was on the top floor. I examined the bright-blue plates set around his dining table and the bright-red cast-iron pot on top of an eight-burner stove.
“You like it?” he asked as he looked at my face.
“I love it.” It was about half the size of his other place, which was still enormous for me, and I loved how much cozier it felt. Felt more like a home than a mansion. I loved seeing people walk past the window on the sidewalk and cars in the road. It had this energy that I loved.
He smirked. “Come on. Let me show you the rest.”
He took me to the second floor, which had his private gym, another sitting room, and an office, and then the top floor seemed like an apartment. It had a primary bedroom, a sitting room, another kitchen, with an expansive terrace outside that had a dining table, lounge chairs, and terra-cotta pots that held red geraniums.