Page 147 of Stalking Ginevra

Heat rises to my cheeks. I saw the ring and assumed like an idiot and thought we could connect. Lowering my gaze to my bare feet, I lean against the bathroom door frame.

“Sorry,” I mutter, still cringing with awkwardness. “I thought the ring meant something.”

“It was my grandmother’s,” she says, her lashes lowering. “My father gave it to me when I turned twenty-one.”

“Didn’t you grow up in foster care?”

She smiles. “I did, but he tracked me down.”

I nod, my mind drifting to Dad, the sole reason my life is a mess. If he hadn’t insisted I join his law firm with a view to inheriting it, I’d still have a job. If he hadn’t bullied me into breaking my engagement, Benito would still treat me like his queen. Thoughts like this swirl through my mind, reminding me how out of touch I am with normality. Everything feels broken, wrong.

Carla finishes packing up the food, occasionally sparing me a glance. There’s a hint of something in her eyes, which wavers from guilt to concern, but she remains silent.

“Mind if I take some of this for my father?” she asks, her voice light. “He’s a big fan of cheese.”

I give her an absent nod. “Take whatever you want.”

She carries the trays to the door and pauses. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call room service.”

“Thanks.” I force a smile, but it’s hollow.

Maybe I should go to bed.

Hours later, I’m in the throes of an unsettling nightmare where Brisket is pounding into me from behind. Benito watches us with cold eyes before unzipping his pants. My lips part, and my throat spasms, ready to take his cock. As he reaches into his fly, a noise from outside jolts me awake.

My eyes snap open, just in time for me to catch the door opening. Benito steps inside, still dressed in that black suit. His presence fills the room, making my pulse quicken. Stiffening, I sit up, not knowing what to expect.

He steps toward the bed, his sharp gaze slicing through my defenses. I can’t tell if he’s still angry or he’s changed his mind about keeping me as his wife. When he sits on the edge of the mattress, my breath catches in my throat.

“How are you feeling?” he murmurs, his voice the kind of calm that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand alert.

My lips part, but I hesitate, not sure how to respond. How do I convey my tangled mess of emotions? Or the way my body still aches from being bred like a beast? Or that burning resentment of how he made me beg for more?

“I’m…” My voice falters, and I glance down at my lap, my cheeks warming. “I’m sore.”

When he doesn’t answer, I peer up at Benito through my lashes.

His brow lifts just enough to make me feel even more exposed. “Where?”

The question goes straight to my clit. The aching muscles of my pussy spasm, and I exhale a silent moan. Benito continues staring at me as if my life depends on this answer. Heat flares across my face, trickling down my neck and over my chest.

I don’t want to reply. I don’t want to admit where, or why, but the silence feels like a whip.

With a shaky finger, I point down at the fabric between my legs. My entire body is on fire, but I keep my eyes down, too humiliated to meet his gaze. “Over there.”

“Then I’ll kiss it better,” he replies, his voice dropping several octaves.

My heart stutters, my breath quickening. I glance at Benito, expecting him to smile, look lascivious, or even hungry. All I see is that mask of stone.

Shit. What if this is another punishment? I can’t see any trace of the old Benito.

“No, thank you,” I rasp and glance away.

He cups my chin, and tilts my face up to meet his eyes. His thumb brushes over my lips, slow, deliberate, sending a tingle across my skin. I blink, and almost miss a flicker of the man I used to love. The gentle, kind boy who would hold me like I was his entire world.

His lips press against the side of my mouth with a tenderness that makes me gasp. He moves lower, trailing soft kisses along my jaw, down my neck, igniting every inch of skin with sensation.

My body relaxes into his touch, and I melt against the pillows. Despite the hurt, despite the fear, I let myself imagine that this is the man I’ve known most of my life. The one who captured my heart.