Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
I'm gripping the chair arm so hard, my knuckles crack.
Her voice has an edge that makes something dark and hungry slither through my chest.
I shift in my seat, my pants uncomfortably tight, and reach for the pitcher on her bedside table.
The ice inside has long since melted while I sat here watching her chest rise and fall.
“This is fucked.” She flings her eyes my way, and I feel it in my chest. “Fucking Hoover. He can’t stand to lose.”
"Here," I say, as I pour and hold the glass out to her. The medication in her system has dehydrated her. It does all of them. "You need fluids."
She ignores me. Instead, her eyes dart over my shoulder to the window, the door, the corners of the room.
Situational awareness. I recognize it.
She’s looking for exits. For weapons. For anything she can use. Interesting response for a princess who’s grown up surrounded by security and luxury.
Her proximity assessment apparently complete, she fixes me with a defiant stare, my hand frozen in the air holding the glass as the water inside trembles.
When was the last time someone looked at me without flinching? My cock is as hard as a battering ram.
Jesus. I'm supposed to be rehabilitating her. Training her to be an obedient daughter, then a wife for whatever alliance Hoover's cooked up. His business ventures span the globe and cross lines between legal and underworld.
He has strong, dark political alliances as well, so the possibilities of how Larissa was to be used in his empire are vast.
And none of them likely considered her best interests.
She accepts the glass, raising it to her lips, and my gaze locks on the movement of her throat as she swallows. My chest is full of lead weights.
Something low in my gut clenches, telling me this is one of those moments in life where everything pivots.
Where my downfall begins.
My demise is sitting there, cross-legged on white sheets with a vengeful smirk, messy black hair, and blue eyes that tell me stories of a life not as shiny as it seems.
I want to trace those pouty lips with my tongue. I want to bite the soft skin on her neck until she whimpers and I taste blood. I want to press my thumb against her larynx and control every single breath she takes.
I focus on where her lips are pressed to the rim of the glass and imagine them wrapped around my cock, stretched wide, tears in her eyes while I fuck her throat and feel it work around me the same way it's working that swallow of water.
"Good girl," I say, and catch the soft flicker in those bright eyes.
Interesting.
"You'll probably feel a little groggy for an hour or so, but it will wear off."
"Are you going to tell me where I am?" she demands without a hint of fear. “When I’m leaving?”
Most girls would be crying by now. Begging.
But Larissa Bianco looks at me like she's deciding whether I'm worth her time, and fuck if that doesn't make me want to show her a good, hard attitude adjustment with her bent over the bed, and me balls deep, re-arranging her insides.
I’m a big guy. A black handstitched suit sitting here filled with six feet five of lean muscle, dark hair, and a scar through my left eyebrow and cheek that should intimidate her.
It has the rest of my wards over the years.
"You’re safe," I tell her, settling back in my chair, even though every muscle in my body is screaming to move closer. I have to ignore the bite of the zipper against my erection. “That’s all you need to know. There's no way out of here, not without my permission, and none of the staff will help you, so refrain from asking." I point lazily toward the window behind me. "We're on a private island. The Mediterranean is beautiful this time of year, but the currents are deadly. Even if you could get past the guards, past the walls, and past me, you wouldn't make it far."
I tap the tips of each of my fingers on my right hand with the pad of my thumb, counting as I watch that sink in on her face.
One, two, three, four. Four, three, two, one.
If she starts to cry, I’m not sure I’ll survive it.
She sputters, narrowing her eyes at me like daggers. “This is a felony.”
I nod, running my hand over my chin. "Maybe. Depends on what country you are in. But all you need to think about right now is that you’re very safe here. From everyone except me."
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, embedding them until the pouty flesh turns white.
She is fucking stunning. That word isn’t enough, but I understand clearly that she’s a bargaining chip. That’s why my estranged brother called me, begging me to take her on.