Page 59 of SINS & Temptation

Fuck. Of course, he’s watching me. He’s always watching.

Does he know about my texts with Agent Knox? Does he know that I know he’s handing me to his uncle? Naked on a silver fucking platter?

I’m stunned, and the anger bubbles up. “No. I didn’t much care for it, actually. I’d much prefer”—I think of the one I saw on a postcard in the market that flew to the top of my bucket list—“Elafonisi Beach.”

“Elafonisi?” he murmurs against my breast. “Where is that?” he asks, his kisses trailing down my stomach.

He’s going to go down on me. Fuck. I mentally brace myself, knowing I have to let him do this if I want to get us all out of this. Me, Riley, the girls, and Truffles.

But when it comes to my feelings, not the ones between my legs but the ones in my heart, where the fuck is the off switch?

And it’s not like my body has an issue with it. It responds instinctively, my back arching to his touch, my legs parting as his rough stubble grazes my skin. His hot tongue?—

“Crete,” I blurt out. Stay in control. Stay. In. Control.

“Greece,” he growls into my core, letting the word vibrate through me before chasing it with a smooth, long lick. “What’s so special about Elafonisi Beach?”

By this point, I’m riding his face, both hands tangled in his hair. And why the hell not? Men have always taken from me. Maybe this is me taking something from him. Yes. Absolutely. Fuck him, for once.

“It’s”—I moan—“the sand.” God, this feels so good. “It’s pink,” I cry.

I come in a rush, panting and heaving as he finishes me off like the last bit of chocolate syrup when a sundae is done.

He makes his way back up my body, kissing me slow and deep. “Pink sand?” he murmurs against my lips, still nibbling as he lines himself up at my entrance. “Say the word, Bella, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

I want this ache in my heart to stop.

I want you out of my life.

I want to feel nothing for you but hate.

I want to be free.

A tidal wave of tears threatens to spill over, and I can’t let him see them. So, I hold his body close. So close. And I tell him the one thing I want—and the one thing I hate myself for most.

“I want you to fuck me, Mr. D’Angelo.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

KENNEDY

Breakfast is a mix of chatter and giggles as the girls delight in feeding Truffles small bits of prosciutto. The little dog snuffles happily, his tail wagging with each morsel.

Enzo, on the other hand, seems more distant than ever, buried in his phone. “You’re not eating,” he says without looking up.

“I’m...” Furious? Heartbroken? “Not hungry.” Then I notice his untouched plate. “You’re also not eating.”

“I’m...” he searches for the right word just as I did. “Preoccupied. Unfortunately, we need to get back. I’ve arranged for the jet to be ready.”

What’s he talking about? “Back?”

He stands and checks his watch. “Two hours,” he says suddenly, shattering the morning’s tranquility.

“Wait. Are you saying we need to be at the airport in two hours?” My heart skips frantically. Panicked, my mind races and keeps circling back to Riley. “But I thought we had one more day.”

His sigh is sharp, but his words are even. “We don’t.”

The girls’ excitement ramps up instantly. “We’re going on a plane?” they squeal in unison, riling Truffles up to insane barking.

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