The Marriage Debt (De Vos Mafia #2)(38)

Luca



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Saturday



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I take a sip of my drink, but as I swallow, the door handle to my bedroom clicks.

I unlocked her room with a purpose in mind.

For a moment, nothing happens as though Jill is waiting for me to get her. But I want her to make the decision herself. I want her to choose to come to me … to choose to bow down and obey in order to gain more freedom.

Because if I can’t get her heart, at least I’ll get her fucking submission.

The second she peers out, I forget all about our fight. I even forget we’re supposed to be enemies and that I’m supposed to destroy both her family and her resolve.

In fact, my jaw, along with the empty glass in my hand, drops at the sight of her stepping out of the room in a flowy, pink gown with silver embellishments going from her waist up to her shoulders, flaring out like a fire blazing out from her heart.

Exactly the kind of dress she’d create and wear to a simple dinner party with her own damn family.

But all I can say when she steps forward, twiddling with her fingers like she’s not sure she should’ve ever stepped out of that room, is, “Beautiful.”

She freezes, her cheeks slowly filling with a red glow. The arteries in her neck, above the collar, pulse as she looks out the window, trying to catch her bearings.

But I see her.

I see her like no one else ever saw her.

I see the pretty girl creating her own dresses and the gorgeous, confident woman she’s grown up to be.

I see it all, and she can’t ever hide it or the rush she feels when I look at her.

Because I see that too.

I pick up the glass and quickly put it back on the table. As she walks off to the window to stare at the people outside like she’s trying to hide from me, I follow her. She flinches as I plant a hand on her waist, her body tensing.

“I mean it,” I say, looking at her through the reflection of the glass.

“Are you only saying that to make me feel good?” she asks.

I shake my head. “You were always so creative with your outfits.”

“I thought you hated them,” she retorts.

I snort. “I hated how it made people look at you.”

She sighs as she looks at herself in the window.

“Why did you give those fabrics to me?”

My hand slides down her waist to her thighs, the feel of her body turning me on already. “Can’t I give my wife a gift?”

She sighs out loud.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I say, almost unable to keep my hands to myself.

“If I did that, you wouldn’t let me out of the house anymore,” she says through gritted teeth.

We stare at each other through the window, and a tear wells up in her eyes. I slide my hand across her cheek and brush it off.

Then I fish a key from my pocket and unlock the collar with it, pulling it away from her neck.

She gasps in shock as the collar drops to the floor, and her hand instinctively reaches for her throat to feel her bare skin.

“If you stopped hating me so much, it would be easier,” I say, and I lean in to press a kiss right below her ear while maintaining eye contact. “And if you behave … I may not have to put it back on again.”

Every kiss I plant makes her lips part a little farther as damp fog spreads on the glass. My hand slowly slides up her waist while the other snakes around her chin as I tilt her head to whisper into her ear, “We could be so fucking good, you and me together.” One hand clasps around her neck while the other grasps her breast until she whimpers. “With you as my queen, we could rule the fucking country. Maybe even the world.”

“Like you don’t hate me as much as I hate you,” she hisses. “I don’t want to rule this world. That’s what you want.”

When I squeeze her tit, a tiny moan escapes her mouth. “Tell me what you desire then. Tell me, and I might give it to you.”

Her teeth clatter as she struggles to keep the moans inside while I plant kisses below her ear, keeping eye contact at all times. “Freedom.”

The mere mention of that word turns my body frigid.

I pull away from her and clear my throat, running my fingers through my hair. “Fine. Let’s go.”

She spins on her heels. “What? Now? For real?”

I use two fingers to beckon her to follow me, and she does the second I open the front door. We walk out into the long hallway, and I go into the elevator, turning around to watch her chase after me on high heels in that picture-perfect dress that makes me want to ravage her.

When the doors close and we’re left alone with nothing but the numbers on the wall lighting on whenever we reach a floor, I can’t think of anything else but shoving her against the wall and fucking her right here, right now.

I turn my head to look at her while she’s desperately trying to look anywhere but at me. Her sweaty chest and blushed cheeks tell me enough.

She wants me as badly as I want her.

If only her conscience wasn’t in the way of the sweet relief she could feel from my touch. My kisses. My licks. My cock.

Fuck, just thinking about it makes me hard as a rock.

Her eyes slowly inch down my suit, and she holds her breath the second they reach the rim of my pants … and the obviously visible bulge.