Page 68 of Veil of Vengeance

“I used your body wash, sorry,” I mumble. His lips lightly kiss my throat.

“Don’t be. I think I prefer you smelling like me than anything else,” he whispers. My lips part on a low moan comes out when his tongue slowly trails up my neck before he bites it. A knock breaks through the little bubble around us, and I begin to wiggle around to get free, but he just holds me in place, not allowing me out of his arms.

“Who is it?” He doesn’t make a move, his head still in front of my neck and his fingers still sunken into my sides.

“Ginevra. I have the tray you asked for,” she says from the other side of the door, and I roll my eyes as I push harder on his shoulders to get free. His hold tightens.

“Stop moving, or I’ll fuck you just like this in front of her,” he warns.

“Come in, Ginevra.” The sound of the door opening and closing echoes in the room. My back prickles with the sensation of someone watching me. I hear the clatter of plates on a tray as they get closer.

“Do you need anything else, boss?” she asks. Emiliano doesn’t stop his light kisses on my neck, causing me to sink my teeth into my bottom lip to stop myself from moaning. I feel one of his arms move. The sound of retreating steps and the door closing is all that I hear after that. He pulls back, regarding my face.

“Ginevra is just one of the maids here.”

It feels like I’m rolling my eyes a lot around this man, and when I try to get up again, this time, he lets me. The tray is placed on the coffee table, and I stomp my way to the couch near it.

Once I sit down, and my eyes dart back to Emiliano, I find him watching me once more, his thumb toying with his bottom lip. I scowl, but it has no heat behind it because that’s all going to my cheeks. He slips his hand into his suit pocket and pulls out a tiny medicine box.

“What’s that?” I ask. His eyes flick from the box back to me, and then down the length of my body, leaving a hot trail behind. Emiliano looks like he’s ready to devour me in a beat. My skin pebbles and my neck feels weirdly warm.

“Birth control. It’s a patch.”

My eyes narrow into slits as I cross my arms over my chest.

“What for?” I ask.

He gives me a smug smirk before twirling the box between two fingers.

“For when I fuck you.” This man has such a filthy mouth, he’d make Lucifer blush.

“Who said anything about you fucking me, let alone without a condom?” I ask. His cold eyes drag over my face, gauging my feelings. The smug smirk is replaced by cold indifference.

“I’m clean, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he tells me. I’m inclined to believe him, but after what I saw in the kitchen, I think he might be a bit of a man-whore.

“How the hell have you stayed clean if you don’t even use a condom?” I ask. A corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk.

“I’ve never not used a condom, and everyone I’ve been with physically had been tested beforehand. And you were begging me to fuck you a couple of hours ago, or have you forgotten?” he teases.

“I guess being Capo has finally driven you to madness,” I say, rolling my eyes. He runs his tongue across his top teeth, like the predator watching its prey.

“No, the only thing that has driven me to true madness is your insistence on delaying what is going to happen. Now eat, and if you keep rolling your eyes, I’ll make sure they’ll stay there permanently when I fuck that attitude out of you,” he says, and my stomach flips. I take a bite out of the toast as I give Emiliano a glare. “Eat up, ragazza mocciosa, because once you're done, I’m filling you up with something entirely different.”

The insinuation isn’t lost on me, and I choke on the bite of toast I’d taken. He gets up and pours me a cup of water before handing it to me, rubbing my back as I gulp down the water. I huff out a breath once I finish the glass, his hand still rubbing soothing circles on my back.

I shuffle across the couch, away from his touch, and focus on the tray. He doesn’t comment or touch me again, keeping his distance, but I can feel the weight of his stare.

“What makes you think I’ll agree to do anything with you?” I know I’m only saying that to provoke him, but he doesn’t know that.

“Bullshit. What changed?” he asks.

I turn to look at him, to make out his expression, but his face is an unreadable mask. I shrug.

“You’re just not my type. And I don’t like tattoos. You have a lot of them.” A fucking lie. He gives me a look that says he doesn’t believe me, and I give him a look telling him I don’t give two shits.

“Stop lying. I can still fucking smell you on my hand, not my fingers, my fuckinghandbecause you were so wet. For me.”

My entire face feels like it’s on fire, and I stuff my mouth with the last piece of toast to avoid saying anything. I dust off the crumbs off my fingers, lips, and joggers before standing up. I quickly make my way to the bathroom, but I don’t reach it because Emiliano follows close behind me, locks the door, and grabs me by the waist.

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