Page 26 of Darkest Sin

“Then I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he says. “I will be out in the morning attending to business. When I return, Sweet Angel, the night is yours.”

12

CHIARA

The sun has barely risen when I wake to find a floor-length gown hanging over the door frame of my walk-in closet. I gape at it in awe, throwing the blankets back and trudging across the room while also irritated with myself for not noticing when someone entered my room.

My fingers brush over the gorgeous champagne silk, and butterflies take flight in my stomach.

I swallow hard, confusion claiming me.

That first time we were together, he told me he would fuck me until I forgot why I was here, until I believed I wanted this. And goddamn it, I think he might have succeeded. He’s fucked with my head, calling me Sweet Angel, and treating me like the queen I always wanted to be. What woman wouldn’t want this? Living rent-free in a beautiful mansion, deep in the mountains, and far away from the harsh realities of real life. I have it all here, the perfect life, and he’s offering it to me on a silver platter.

Everything except his cousin, of course.

All I have to do is accept it.

He warns me about his dark side if I should refuse him, that it would be something I could never recover from. I won’t lie, I trust him when he says that he’s a man of his word. He always seems to follow through.

He has me in knots, so damn confused about what I want. I should be trying to find a way out of here, but all I want is to see the approval in his eyes when I fuck him and hear those sweet words whispered in that captivating accent.

What the fuck is wrong with me? When did I stop seeing him as my captor and start seeing him as the man I want to please?

My gaze sails over the gown, taking in the plunging neckline and the hip-high split that will show off my legs perfectly. And all I can do is wonder why he claimed me as his own. Even on the balcony after his meeting, he said no other man would ever touch me again, but if I’m just a toy, why take me as a date to a family event? I can’t claim that I know anything about the ins and outs of mafia life, but wouldn’t bringing me as a date make a statement? I just wish I knew what.

All I know is that being here with him is a million times better than any other outcome that could have come from being auctioned off in that warehouse. I should thank him for saving me, but he insists he’s no hero. If only he could see it the way I do. He offered me salvation, and while he might think of it as satisfying his wicked needs, I see it as a chance to live.

Striding across my room, I gaze out my big window that looks over the back of the property, admiring how the soft hues of gold shine across the mountaintops. It’s dazzling, unbelievably gorgeous, and a sight I could happily wake up to every day of my life. It sure as hell beats waking up to the sound of my landlord banging on the door, demanding rent.

I slept like a baby last night, completely satisfied. Despite the fear of someone unwelcome sneaking into my room and the comments about bearing Killian an heir, I couldn’t help the need to step into the shower and clean up. Now, barely twelve hours later, the need to have him inside me is stronger than ever before.

He said he was going out to attend to business this morning . . . whatever business that might be. But I wonder if he needs a wake-up call.

That first time we were together was his opportunity to exercise control over me. Hell, every moment since the warehouse he’s had his chance. I’ve pushed the limits with him and tested the waters with just how far I can assert my will. But I’m not the type to simply allow a man to rule over my world. I’m far too independent for that. If this little arrangement is going to work out, I need a better understanding of my boundaries, and I need to have some control. Even if it’s just a little.

He got to dictate how he was going to take my body, but now it’s my turn.

If he gets to take me however and whenever he pleases, then he better be prepared for me to demand the same in return.

Before I’ve even had a chance to truly think this through, I’m marching out of my bedroom, uncaring about the fact that beneath my silk robe, I’m still as naked as the day I was born.

Finding his room, I grip the door handle and slowly push it open before peering in. The sun rises on the opposite side of the property, so it’s still mostly covered in darkness, but there’s just enough morning light for me to make out his sleeping body dead center on his bed.

His arm is propped behind his head, and while he’s sound asleep, his usually tense jaw hangs slack, and his serious expression has melted into a soft, boyish innocence. During the day, there are deep lines in his forehead and his posture is cold and rigid, but there have been a few times when I’ve caught him watching me with his guard down. He doesn’t look at me with the same disgusting disregard that I received from the other men at the auction. There is a connection between us, something that pulls him in, an odd infatuation, and as long as he’ll have me, I’m willing to stay.

Swallowing over the growing lump of unease caught in my throat, I let out a shaky breath and make my move. My hands shake, but I forge ahead, determined to make my point.

Climbing the four steps up to his bed, I hit the platform before slipping out of my robe and slowly sliding in beside him. I’m certain that if he were to wake up right now, this wouldn’t go down well. My Romanian mystery stirs as the bed dips under my weight, and I hold my breath, trying not to move as he settles back into a deep sleep.

Scooching closer to him, I inhale deeply, letting his magical scent wrap around me.

I don’t know what it is about this man. Perhaps it’s the knowledge that he could kill me without mercy, but he’s so enraptured by me that he won’t.

Fuck, I can’t think like that. Or can I?

Testing the waters, my hand drops to his bare chest with a feather-soft touch, and I take in his handsome face to find him staring right back at me.

Oh shit.

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