Page 42 of Kissing the Villain

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Stop moving for a second.”

I rocked my hips, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Do I turn you on, Marcello?”

He scowled and tossed me onto the grass beside him.

I crossed over the flagstones and hit the button on the call box. A man’s deep voice boomed through the speaker, asking me to state my business at Wellington Manor.

“It’s Alexandrea Wellington,” I said.

The gate opened inward.

Marcello closed the gap between us, his dark eyebrows knitted. “What are you doing?”

“I’m having dinner with my family.”

“Like hell you are.” He grabbed my arm, his fingerprints marking my flesh as he dragged me away from the gate. “Only good girls get privileges. And you’ve just lost yours until Luca comes home. Get in the car.”

Marcello opened the passenger door with little effort and forced me inside the car. He was so much stronger, and with his tree trunks for arms and massive body hulking over me, it was impossible to fight him.

“Run again,” he threatened, “and I will handcuff you to the bed.”

“Sounds like foreplay,” I joked. But as our eyes met, I was startled at the chilling look on his face, and a wave of fear rolled over me. “Fine. I’ll behave myself.”

He leaned over me to grab the seatbelt and winked. “Good girl.”

Marcello’s fingers grazed my breasts, so I grabbed his hand, molding it to my right breast. I could see the hesitation in his eyes.

Marcello moved his hand from my breast. “So much for behaving yourself, princess.”

“I’ve been a bad girl, Marcello.” I licked my lips. “Maybe you should spank me.”

“Luca won’t be happy with you.”

“Don’t tell him. This can be our little secret.”

He held my gaze, considering my offer, and then shut the door. As if I hadn’t thrown myself at him, Marcello got behind the wheel and returned to his usual cold, reserved self. He slipped his sleek sports car into reverse and flew down Founders Way like we were on the Autobahn.

We arrived at the Salvatore estate in a flash, skidding to a halt in front of a covered garage that housed a fleet of cars. Mario Andretti’s evil twin slid out from behind the steering wheel,and within seconds, he ripped open my door, lifted me over his shoulder, and dragged me toward the house.

I slapped his back, arms, and that tight ass I wanted to sink my teeth into, my fists pounding with fury. “Put me down! I can walk on my own, you psychopath.”

Marcello released a wicked cackle that sent shivers down my spine as we entered the foyer. I fought him as we ascended the stairs, which was pointless.

He set me down at the top of the landing.

I shoved my palm into his chest. “Asshole! Why are you treating me like a child?”

His cell phone dinged with several text messages, and he read them, smirking. “You shouldn’t have run.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

He followed me into my bedroom. I spun around to face him, and he inched forward, forcing me to walk backward toward the bed. A flicker of desire sparked in his eyes, sending a ripple of pleasure down my arms.

Would he give me what I wanted?

Marcello pushed me onto the mattress and grabbed my wrist, raising my arm above my head. “I gave you some freedom, and this is what you did with it. Think about escaping again, and I’ll spank your ass so hard you won’t walk for a week.”

“Sounds like fun.” I blew him a kiss. “You going to tie me up or take me over your knee? Luca likes it both ways.”

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