Page 35 of Accidentally Kidnapping the Mafia Boss
Finn
I scowl at her wrists. They’ve got some kind of chafing from the cuffs that mars her skin. I find ointment in the bathroom cupboard, and Millie sits obediently as I smooth it over theplace where her veins are right at the surface, the blood pulsing through. So beautiful. So vulnerable.
My jaw sets as I realise I should have protected her better.
I pick up the handcuffs.
“Fecking pink fake fur,” I grumble.
She can’t wear them anymore. Clearly.
“What if I promised not to escape?” she suggests tentatively, and my eyes fly to her face as my heart explodes.
Yes. Of course, yes. That’s what I want, for her not to try to leave me.
I draw my eyebrows together. “Touching at all times.”
She nods quickly, and for a second I think it’s because she’s as eager to be close to me as I am to her.
Then I come to my senses.
But still. When I take her little hand in mine and lead her back to the kitchen to put the kettle on for tea, I swear I feel her fingertips press into the tendons on the backs of my scarred knuckles.
14
MILLIE
One day before we’re due to go back to London, we’re strolling down the beach, his massive paw enveloping mine. This week has begun to feel like an enforced honeymoon. He always shortens his stride to fit mine when we walk along the beach together. It’s romantic, if I’m honest.
I’ve been trying not to think that, and neither of us have talked about tomorrow. During one of my supervised email sessions I saw that someone has offered over the asking price for the cottage, so this really is it.
The cuffs are still off, on the condition that I hold Finn’s hand, even though my wrist is fine now. He was overreacting to slight marks made when he accidentally put the cuffs on too tight.
He hasn’t taken my virginity, but he takes the touching at all times rule very seriously.
This morning, he tied all four of my limbs to the bed and then licked me with such leisurely patience, bringing me to the brink over and over, that by the time he finally made me come I was a complete mess. He might not want sex, but maybe that’s because my mafia boss is as much of a control freak as I am, maybe even more.
Wait.
Mine?
When did that sneak in?
“What are you thinking, pet?” he rumbles, tucking me under his arm. He’s freaking huge.
That you’re mine. For one more day, and my heart doesn’t understand this will be over tomorrow.
“Just that you’ve been pretty nice.”
He barks with laughter.
“For a captor, you know,” I add.
“With all your experience of being a captive, that’s your judgement?” he teases me, running his thumb up and down my wrist.
“I don’t have to have been a captive before to know,” I protest.
“Sure, saw it on TV, right?”
