Page 35 of His Nephew's Ex
“This might sting,” I warn, cleaning each cut with gentle precision.
She hisses at the contact, her hands fisting in the sheets, but doesn’t pull away. I work in silence, focusing on the task while trying to ignore how fucking perfect she looks spread across my bed, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt and trust.
“Better?” I ask when I’m finished, securing the last bandage.
“Thank you.” The words are soft, vulnerable, cutting through my carefully maintained control like a blade.
I climb back into bed, and that’s when she makes her first mistake of the night. Instead of immediately turning away, she lies there watching me, her dark eyes reflecting the moonlight streaming through the windows.
“What?” she whispers.
“Nothing.” I reach for her, pulling her against my chest before she can protest. “Go to sleep.”
“Simeone, no—”
“This is how I’m going to be sleeping from now on.” I settle her against me, her back pressed to my chest, her ass nestled against my rapidly hardening cock.
“I can’t—this isn’t—”
“Breathe,stellina.” My arm tightens around her waist, holding her in place when she tries to squirm away. “I told you I wouldn’t touch you until you ask. This is sleeping, not touching.”
“What’s the difference?”
“You’ll know when I’m touching you.” I bury my face in her hair, inhaling the jasmine scent that’s been haunting my dreams. “Trust me on that.”
She goes rigid against me, every muscle locked in protest. But gradually, as minutes pass without me making any aggressive moves, she begins to relax. Her breathing deepens, her body melts against mine, and I feel the exact moment she surrenders to exhaustion.
“Simeone?” Her voice is drowsy, barely above a whisper.
“What?”
“Why are you being gentle with me?”
Her words unravel something inside me. I’ve spent so long being what everyone expects that I’d forgotten there might be anotherway. She makes me want to try, even when I’m not sure I remember how.
“Because you bring out a side of me I thought was dead,” I whisper against her hair. “
She doesn’t respond, but I feel her body sink deeper into sleep, feel the way she unconsciously presses closer to my warmth. In the morning, she’ll rebuild her walls, remind herself of all the reasons this can’t work. But tonight, she’s exactly where she belongs.
Sometime in the night, Loriana murmurs my name in her sleep and curls closer. My arms tighten around her automatically, possessively. She fits against me like she was made for this, for me.
But sleep won’t come, because one fear keeps circling back—I’ve never been able to keep anything good without breaking it.
12
Loriana
The sharp sound of leather soles on marble announces his arrival before I even see him, and something cold settles in my stomach at the familiar sound of his voice.
“Where is he?”
Flavio’s demand ricochets through the halls, all rage and ownership. My body locks up on the staircase, fingers digging into the banister until my knuckles go bone-white. Two days. I had two days of safety behind these walls before the monster found me.
“Mr. Codella is in a meeting,” I hear one of the staff respond with practiced diplomacy. “Perhaps you could wait in the—”
“I don’t wait for anyone in this house.” Flavio’s voice rises, echoing off the marble walls with the petulance of a spoiled child denied his favorite toy. “Not even for myzio.”
The venom he injects into that last word makes my skin crawl. I should retreat to Simeone’s room, lock the door, and let the men handle their family drama. That would be the smart thing—the safe thing.
