Diavolo

xxxiv

PRESLEY

        The truth. Such an ironic word and less trivial than anything I'd come to learn in my twenty-two years of knowledge. And yet, this man wrapped around my body was asking for it. Making promises he knew he couldn't keep to me and seducing me with his heart-crushing words and delicious threats.

        His words washed over me with a clandestine thrill, coaxing my heart and tightening the grip he already had on my heart. Until I die. We're never going to be over.

        As I looked up at him, a handsome face filled with complications and vulnerability, I knew I couldn't imagine myself with anyone else but him.

        I'd dated normal guys—men with desk jobs, decent, nice men that weren't constantly followed by men in identical black suits and carried guns and held onto a glass of whiskey everywhere.

        Any normal person, any normal woman would have ran but I couldn't. Deep down, I knew that a part of me imagined being with someone who wasn't as possessive or dark as Silvio but it wouldn't be right.

        Something soft flickered in those green eyes as he towered over me. Inky black hair fell in front of his eyes and rough hands shoved it back.

        "Turn." He said in a low growl but made no move to pull any more of my dress. "If I have to ask again, you'll regret it."

        The back of my throat burned as I dropped my gaze and turned around slowly, my chest pressed aganist the hard wall.

        The sound of his heavy breathing floated in the silent room, the smell of his expensive cologne as he leaned in closer, pressing me hard against the wall.

        The clink of his belt buckle and the pop of his buttons as an uncomfortable ache began in my chest. "This isn't fair." I murmured.

        "What's that?"

        "A truth for a truth." I clarified.

        He let out a husky, deep laugh that trickled down my back and warmed the rough edges of my heart.

        My heart throbbed when he held onto a fistful of my silky dress, clutching it around my waist and landed a slap on my right ass cheek. "I don't think so, dolcezza."

        His warm baritone grazed the shell of my ear and I breathed a deep sigh, falling flush against his hard body. "I asked you in the car twice, no? That would have been the perfect time for your so-called truth for a truth."

        Another pop. Another button. A thick finger looped around the lacy fabric of my black thong and he snapped it aganist my skin, leaving a trail of stinging pain and cool, delicious relief in its wake.

        "I don't think I've seen this before." There was a subtle trace of amassment beneath his voice.

        "It's new." I said, my voice a little breathless. "You know, after you ripped all my other ones."

        "Hm, I see." He mused. "Spread your legs, baby."

        I didn't know why but the word baby lit something deep and possessive inside of me even though it was normal of him to call me that. For some unknown reason, the words tickled my skin and left a deep satisfaction inside of me.

        When I hadn't moved, he brought his hand down on the left ass cheek hard. So hard I jumped slightly and a rough sound of displeasure rushed out of my throat. "Jesus, Silvio." I groaned lowly.