Page 25 of Stolen Christmas
Her room is next and it’s actually messier, but it looks as if she was in the middle of doing laundry before she had to leave. Her room is the quintessential pink and white girl’s room. I dig into her makeup bag and take it with me. She might want this, or maybe I’ll have the stylist buy her a bunch of new things. She deserves the best. I take in several things about my future wife, and snatch one memento for each of them in particular before leaving.
It’s well past two in the morning before I’m able to return to the condo. I can’t wait to take Angel to the estate where we will have much more privacy, but it will have to wait until after dinner.
I put away the pilfered items and then return to our bedroom to see her sleeping so beautifully. As I undress and slip into bed, I consider taking my sweet Angel again, but I hold back because she is probably painfully sore, and I have plans to make her scream with orgasms as soon as she is ready.
Chapter Nine
Angel
I stretch my aching muscles, and heavens, they are sore. “Oh my goodness,” I grunt, deepening the stretch, and that’s when I feel a large body against me. My eyes widen, and I panic for a brief moment.
Last night comes back to me and all the raunchy ways this man ruined me for anyone else. I’m too afraid to look over at him to see if he’s asleep so I can slide out of bed, but he clears that up for me before my next breath. The light from the sun peeking through the drapes is suddenly hidden by a large shadow. “I’m glad you’re finally awake. It’s time for you to shower and meet with the stylist.” I face my whatever he wants to call himself, and he happens to look magnificent when he wakes up. His bed head is sexy, the morning scruffy beard a little thicker than yesterday, and he’s shirtless, muscles on display.
“Stylist?” I question. There isn’t even a good morning, hello, or anything, not even “you look hot when you wake up,” or “I enjoyed last night.” Just get the fuck up and get pretty.
I suppose this is routine for him, so I just need to roll with the punches. Hopefully he changes his mind about all of this, and I’ll leave partially unscathed. Unfortunately, there’s something about Luca that’s already made an indelible mark on me, and it’s not the sex.
“Yes. You’ll need a new wardrobe for dinner tonight and for future events.” I want to run off, but until I can get my brother safely away, that isn’t happening.
“Oh yes.” I forgot that we’ll be meeting his parents and pretend that I’m not here under duress. A man worth this muchmoney obviously doesn’t want to be seen with a bum. I have to class it up for him.
I try a last-ditch effort to talk my way out of it, even though there could be a chance I’m already carrying his baby. “We don’t have to go through with this, Mr. D’Antonio.”
“You call me that again, and I’ll take you over my knee,” he growls, leaning over me with his forearms flexed, muscles taut, displaying his tattoos intricately decorating his lightly tanned skin. I can’t take my eyes off them until he cuffs his strong hand around my throat, forcing my gaze to meet his. It’s not the strength of the grip; it’s the dominance he’s after, and it works. My attention is back on his gorgeous gray eyes. “Besides, did you forget that I’ve got your brother under my custody?”
There. He put his ace on the table. I have no choice but to stay. No way of running because he has the most important person in my life at his mercy.
“How could I forget? It’s the only reason I’m here.” My words bite, and I hope he feels the sting. I throw off the covers and quickly climb out of his bed completely unclothed before I say something that will send him into a rage because my mouth can be foul when I’m angry.
Before my parents died, I wasn’t afraid of popping off at the mouth. Now, I have learned to hold my tongue because my brother’s life depends on it. Yes, my body’s turned on by Luca D’Antonio, but my heart isn’t bothered, so I need to control my temper.
I lock the door and handle my constitution before turning on the shower. Stepping inside, I let the hot water cleanse my skin and wash away his touch while I let the tears fall. He’s a naturally hot bastard with power and control, and he owns me both physically and emotionally. I’m not in love with the manI just met, but damn, am I lusting wildly for him. It makes no sense to me, which plays so heavily on my heart.
Luca holds my brother’s well-being in his hands, and for that I hate him, and yet I still want to ride him again. I hate myself for it.
Enough with the tears, I mentally chide myself. Scrubbing my body with his soap; that doesn’t help me with the insane lust, but it’s all that’s here. Finally rinsing off, I grab his superbly fluffy towels, and I dry off. Goodness, this kind of luxury is next level. Even when my parents took us to Greece, I never felt the plushness of such towels. Damn. It’s almost like a terry cloth pillow.
There’s a pounding on the door, followed by his rich, deep voice. “Amore, the stylist has arrived. Time to get out.”
“I don’t have anything to wear,” I call out through the closed door.
“You have clothes to try on, Angel.” The ripple of impatience irritates me, so I drop the towel since I figure I’ll be trying on clothes in front of these women, anyway.
“Okay.” I step out of the room to several people standing there, and not everyone is a woman. My face heats instantly with embarrassment while Luca’s face turns red with anger. I look to the only man in the room who has swiftly turned around. Thank goodness.
“Get the fuck out,” he snarls. He’s on me in a second, covering my body with his huge frame blocking my nakedness from everyone’s view.
He pushes me backwards into the bathroom and slams the door shut. “What the fuck possessed you to come out completely naked?” His anger vibrates off him as he stalks toward me. I’m sure everyone heard that.
“You said…” He shakes his head like I better shut my mouth as his fingers press to my lips.
“I expected you to at least have a towel or one of the robes on the back of the door.”
“Robes? How many whores do you keep here?” I slam my hand to his chest. “Why did you bother wasting your time with me? I’d just rather go back home. Use one of them as your gift-wrapped package.” Within a flash I find myself pinned against the vanity, ass on the cool surface.
“What part are you missing? You’re not going anywhere.” His voice is low, steely, filled with a dark promise. He points to the door and says, “I put those up there this morning after I showered. You did that shit out of petulance.” He cups my pussy, slipping two fingers inside, and instead of being afraid, I’m so turned on. “This is fucking mine. You don’t go showing it off to everyone.”
“I was just doing what I was told, so please don’t be mad,” I whimper, clamping down on his digits. He is better than any little vibrator I’ve had, and one orgasm from him and I’m addicted. I need more.
