Page 44 of Salvatore

I don’t want to fuck him. Well, I don’twant to wantto fuck him. If that’s even a thing. Goddamn it, I definitely went too hard on the liquor.

If Gabriel knew I was here, with his enemy, he’d kill me. The man who was supposed to be my main source of protectionwould happily take my life. He’s been wanting an excuse for years. And here I am, cementing the death sentence.

“Cat got your tongue?” Salvatore’s hand finds my jaw, holding me hostage, his calloused palm grazing my skin. “We both know you’re not the silent type.”

He’s right. I’m not.

My head is filled with a million things I itch to blurt. Hundreds of insults and snarky retorts. But there are compliments, too. I want to tell him how good his fingers feel. How his gaze melts through me.

“I think you should back away slowly.” I swallow over the ache in my throat. “You’ve got game, but there’s no way you could live up to the vibe you’re projecting.”

“You’re challenging me now?”

“I’m attempting to save your ego. I’m not a shy critiquer.”

“I don’t get complaints.”

“I’m not surprised. It’d be difficult for any woman to give feedback when they were bound, gagged, and praying for you to spare their life.”

His free hand grips my knee, slightly widening the stance of my legs, testing the limits of my dress. “I think you keep telling yourself I force women because it makes you feel better about how much you want me. You need to convince yourself I’m tricking you somehow. That you’re not in control. But you can scoot off that bench at any time,mi bella reina. I won’t stop you.”

I keep my expression impassive as he glides the roughened pad of his thumb over my bottom lip, slow, deliberate.

It feels dirty, and wrong, and I don’t want it to stop. The urge to latch on and suck is cloying. Bone deep.

“You only want me because I’m your enemy’s daughter,” I counter. “It’s a power play.”

“I wanted you well before I discovered your unfortunate lineage.”

“Well, the feeling isn’t mutual.” I sit taller, confident in my lie.

“Is that the response you’re sticking with?” He remains in place, that thumb still slowly sweeping my lower lip in an agonizing tease as his dark eyes murmur sordid promises. “If that’s the way you want to play it…”

He lowers his hand and steps back.

My heart nosedives, the withdrawal of contact leaving me bereft.

What the hell is he doing to me? My pulse races. My chest tightens.

I shouldn’t be doing this.Wantingthis.

It’s wrong. Dangerous. Stupid. But I grab his suit lapels before he can take another retreating step and pull him back toward me. “Just kiss me already.”

A ghost of a devilish smile curves his lips.

I yank harder, dragging him against my shins. He’s all masculine confidence and egotistical arrogance. And I hate it. I loathe that he’s won. That I couldn’t let him walk away without having a taste. I’ve never lost the upper hand with a man before. But then he leans in, tempting me with what I need, the tip of his nose nuzzling mine as his whiskey-scented breath adds to my intoxication.

“As you wish,mi bella reina.” He plasters his mouth upon mine—hard, hot, unyielding—and absolute rapture washes away my humiliation.

His hands claim my knees while he parts my lips with his tongue, demanding entry I wish I could deny but more than willingly give. He slides his palms upward, raising the hem of my dress, creeping close to a part of me he shouldn’t have an effect on, yet slays like the most relentless tyrant.

I can’t help the whimper that escapes me.

His grip tightens at the sound, those sliding fingers forging a more possessive trail, his kiss becoming frantic.

“Do that again,” he warns against my mouth, “and your panties will be off in a heartbeat.”

I fight the good fight not to concede, but I’m weakening, clinging to his jacket, scrambling for strength as another whimper claws at the back of my throat. “My panties will remain where they are until I deem you worthy of removing them.”

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