Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
“Have a seat there.” She points at the stool at the end of the island.
Romeo hesitates, his hand tightening reflexively around mine. I give him a gentle squeeze and pull away.
He takes a seat, but tracks me with his gaze as I grab a bottle of water from the fridge. I slide it toward him as Mariella tells him to remove his shirt.
He tosses it onto the counter, and I swallow, trying not to stare. It’s been far too long since I’ve felt him, but I can’t let my mind go there right now.
“Are you hungry?” I ask. “Do you want anything else?”
He shakes his head, so I return to his side, wrapping my hand around his uninjured arm. As Mariella examines his wound, he turns to face me, and I lose myself in the depths of his eyes. This morning, they’re warm like honey shot through with gold and heavy with unspoken emotion.
“Just a graze,” Mariella confirms. “I’ll need to stitch you up. I take it you don’t want me to numb you?”
“No.” Romeo grunts. “Let’s just get it over with.”
She gets to work cleaning his arm before she starts stitching him. He doesn’t flinch, even when I’m squeezing his arm a little too tight without realizing it.
“I take it you’ll want a shower?” Mariella asks.
Romeo nods.
“Okay. I’ll apply a waterproof bandage, but you’ll need to change it afterward.” She glances up, pointing to the gauze. “Gabi, you can make sure he puts that on after his shower?”
“I will,” I assure her.
Her eyes dart between us, and she arches a brow at me in question. I give her a look, letting her know I’ll explain later.
“Alright.” She packs up her things. “I have a bed waiting for me.”
“Thank you, Mariella,” Romeo responds gruffly.
“Get some rest,” she tells us. “I’ll check on you tomorrow when I get home from the office.”
I thank her as she leaves, and before Romeo can say anything, I stop him.
“You should get cleaned up, and then we can talk.”
He doesn’t seem to like that plan, and I wonder if it’s because he thinks I’ll leave while he’s in the shower.
Every muscle in his body is rigid with tension, and I’m worried about what he has to say. But for now, I set that aside and focus on the present.
When we reach the suite, I deposit Beppe on Romeo’s bed, and he tunnels his way beneath the covers.
Romeo lingers in the bathroom doorway, watching me, and I can see that I was right. He’s worried that if he gives me the chance, I’ll leave. It doesn’t make much sense, considering I waited for him all night. But the last time we were here, I did leave.
I put his mind at ease when I brush past him and turn on the shower. When I strip off my clothes and glance over my shoulder, I catch him staring at me like he wants to eat me. At least that’s one thing that hasn’t changed.
“Are you coming?”
“Yeah,” he answers, voice rough.
I step beneath the spray and let the water soak into my muscles as I wait for him.
A minute later, he joins me, his presence warming my back, but stopping short of touching me. When I look up at him, there’s a trace of uncertainty in his eyes.
Romeo Vitale has never asked permission for anything in his whole life, but right now, it feels like he’s worried one wrong move might scare me off.
I turn toward him, reaching up to touch his face. When my fingers ghost over his jaw, his eyes flutter shut, and a tremor pulses through him.
My wolf has been starving for this, and I want to feed him.
I slide my hand around to cradle the back of his head, tilting his face toward mine as I press against him. The heavy length of his cock presses against my navel, so rigid it sends a shiver through me.
He hooks an arm around my waist, anchoring me to his solid wall of muscle.
A low groan vibrates through his chest as he takes me captive, and when our eyes meet again, his are dark, hot, and feral with possession.
He dips his head, and our lips collide in a bruising kiss that sends a rush of heat down my spine. His fingers thread through my hair, gripping me roughly as he slides his tongue into my mouth.
I’m drowning in desperation as he backs me against the wall, so caught up in the moment, I almost forget. But when he grabs my thighs to lift me, my concern resurfaces.
“Wait.” I pull free, breathing hard against him. “Your stitches.”
“Fuck the stitches,” he growls.
“Romeo.” I shoot him a pleading look. “Just let me wash you, then we can go into the bedroom. It won’t take long.”
He releases a shuddering exhalation, his forehead dipping against mine. “Okay.”