The Marriage Debt (De Vos Mafia #2)(32)

He comes closer and closer, his lips hovering close to my skin, and when he presses the softest kiss against my neck, I almost fall apart right there and then.

Why is it so easy for him to make me want him? I hate it.

He groans against my skin. “So you never let anyone even touch you?”

I shake my head.

“No one? Ever?”

It’s like he can’t believe it, but it’s true.

“So when I came into your room the night my brother died, I was the first and last to touch you?”

I nod, but it only makes him groan harder to the point even I find it hard not to moan along as he cups my slit and makes me wet all over again.

“God … it’s too good to be true,” he murmurs. “My bunny, a fucking virgin.” He laughs. “You filthy little liar … All mine.”

Suddenly, he lifts me into his arms, and I squeal from the sudden motion. He hauls me to a door in the back of the room and kicks it open. He carries me to a shower and puts me down right in the middle, turning on the faucet.

The hot water pouring down from the jets onto my skin makes my nipples instantly harden. His hungry eyes dart down to my breasts, and his tongue dips out to wet his lips.

Still, he doesn’t make a move.

Even though I thought he would, now that he knows the truth.

Is he going to let me shower?

“Are you going to leave?” I ask.

“No,” Luca says, his brow arching.

Guess not.

“I don’t trust you on your own yet,” he adds.

I roll my eyes.

Figures.

But he keeps looking at me like I’m a piece of meat, and it’s hard to even move, let alone wash myself.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask in a moment of bravery.

“Like what?” he says with a lopsided grin, clutching the shower doors. “Tell me, Jill, what do I look like to you?”

I look up into his smoldering eyes. “Like a wolf.”

His grip on the doors tighten. “And what does that make you?”

I swallow as the water gushes down onto my body. “Prey.”

The wicked grin on his face grows bigger, more menacing. “Exactly. And this wolf is hungry for more …”

I plant my body against the wall, my teeth clattering from the thought of him touching me again. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself, let alone him, if I let him come close.

But do I even have a choice?

I’m his captive wife. The one who chose to be here in exchange for a debt.

And I made a promise to my father that I’d make him happy … at all cost.

“Don’t cry now, bunny. It makes you less pretty,” he says.

“Like you ever thought I was pretty,” I quip.

His eyes narrow. “Why wouldn’t I? You were always the most beautiful girl I’d ever met and still are.”

I gulp from his words. He’s never said anything like that to me.

Does he mean it? Or is he only saying it to make me complacent?

“Don’t lie to me,” I say.

“Why would I lie?” he replies, fishing his knife from his pocket to toy with it, but to me, it’s only a reminder of who’s in charge.

He’s dangerous. I should stop, but I don’t want to back down. “You told me I looked hideous in the dresses I made back when we were young.”

He laughs. “Jill, really? We were kids.” He throws the knife like it’s a juggling pin. “I’m surprised you remember, though.”

“Because you bullied me,” I retort.

His eyes suddenly fixate on me like they’re trying to bore a hole into my head. “Has no one ever told you why boys bully?”

“Because they’re dicks,” I retort, but it only makes him laugh.

“Call me a dick. It doesn’t matter to me.” He stops throwing the knife and holds it tight in his hand. “The only thing that matters is that you belong to me now.”

“Does anything I say ever matter to you?” I ask.

His nostrils flare as he brings the knife to his mouth and licks the tip. “You don’t even know how much.”

I don’t know what to say to that.

He’s so damn twisted, yet he can even make licking a blade look hot.

It’s quiet for a few seconds as the water rushes down on my skin, filling me with a warmth that’s not even close to the heat surging through my body when he looks at me like that. Like he wants to eat me alive and then some.

“What are you thinking about?” Luca asks, tucking the knife back into his pocket.

I look up from underneath my dripping lashes. “You.”

The showerhead rains down, creating a curtain between us, but I can see his dark, scorching eyes right through the veil.

A hand drifts through.

Then another.

His clothes get soaked as he steps inside the shower with me, planting one hand against the wall while the other grabs my chin, forcing me to look up into his lustful, hungry eyes.

“You weren’t so eager to escape when I had you pinned to the wall like this back when I snuck into your room three years ago,” he says, and he leans in closer and closer until my breath falters. “Back when I gave you the best orgasm you could ever wish for.”