Between The Flames ⚜️Il Paradosso Book Two⚜️

Chapter forty-one

"Let go of me."

His breath fanned across my face. He held me down firmly until I stopped squirming.

"Behave."

"Give. Me. Back. My. Phone."

His tongue swept along my left cheek and I screamed, digging my nails into his arm. A sardonic laugh vibrated from his throat.

"You're sick."

He licked his bottom lip and I moved my head to the side when he dipped his face. "Contagious."

My heart felt like a set of drums, frantically beating against my chest. He was going to kiss me. "I swear, I'll spit on you if you even try."

"Mm, new kink. I like it."

He was squashing me, dumping his full weight on top of me 'till I had difficulty letting oxygen through. "I can't breathe, Niccolo."

Not to mention the large brick caught in between my legs, poking me every time I moved beneath him.
"I want to see how long you can last."

He's worse than psychotic. This man is insane.

"How loud you can scream."

My mind went into overdrive when he bit into my neck, withdrawing an ugly shriek from me.

"Louder." He flicked his tongue over the spot and sunk his teeth in again.
This time, I let out a howling scream and thrashed against him with all the strength that I had. He pushed himself off of me and was on his feet in a second.

Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, he held it in his hand before his attention flickered back up to look at me. "You might want to stay in here until that heals." He winked, motioning towards my neck and I brought my hand up to cover the area.

Oh, no. Amanda.

"The babies need me," I croaked, but he didn't seem bothered by my invocation.

"Bianca will take good care of them." He was out the door, the lock clicking behind him.

I sat into the king-size bed, dumbfounded.

What the hell happened? Did he really just lock me in here?

I felt dirty. His scent lingering on my skin. I tried to rub it off of my face and neck as best as I could, flinching at the horrific bruise that stood out like a sore thumb.

I thought Antonio's biting compulsion was bad.
I was pacing back and forth like a madwoman. I had to find a way out and get to my friend, or we were both dead meat.

I rummaged through Niccolo's drawers, searching for something, anything that I could use to pick the lock. I was furious when I found nothing, apart from a shit load of underwear and socks. His clothes were systematically organized, in categories of different colors—mostly black and navy blue—not one single item out of place.

I had an urge to mess everything up. I took an arm load of shirts from the large rack, tossing them across the floor of the spacious closet. Then I took a few belts and flung them to the other side of the room. They landed on the black leather sofa, along with his boxers, some of them falling in the space behind it.