Page 87 of Forced Vows

I smile. It's not a nice one. I'm not a nice man. "When I'm done."

"You only have your shirt left."

"Are you telling me you don't want to see the rest of me?" I won't believe her if she does.

Licking her lips, she shakes her head, nods, then shakes her head again.

Jacking myself slowly, I undo one button at a time on my shirt. When I get to the last one, it gapes. But it doesn't reveal much more skin because when I'm dressed for work, which is most of the time, I wear an undershirt.

"Take it off. Them. Take them off."

Her enthusiasm turns me on. "Slide your hand down your body and into your panties for me."

She sucks in a shocked breath, but one hand releases its death grip on the arm of the chair and starts the journey.

When she reaches the top of her panties, she runs her fingertip along the waistband, teasing us both.

"Be a good girl and do as I say."

Something flares hot in her eyes and her fingers dip beneath the pink lace. Her middle finger slides between her lips and she groans.

"That's good. Play with that little bud, but keep your eyes on me, Aphrodite."

The order is superfluous. Her gaze is glued to the hand stroking my dick. "Take them off, Ares. Please."

The please does it. I undo my cufflinks.

Plink. Plink. They hit the tile floor.

And then I shrug off my shirt and it follows them. I rip my undershirt over my head and watch her eyes dilate with pleasure at the sight of me.

Cazzo. This woman.

"Ares." My name is another plea.

Grabbing my knife, I stalk across the space between us. When I reach her, I lay the knife next to my belt and grab her ankles. Then I yank her toward me until her ass is on the edge of the ottoman.

She lets out a shocked cry.

Picking up the knife, I say, "Don't move."

"What are you going to do?"

"Make you feel good."

After a shaky breath, she nods.

Leaning down, I carefully slide the sharp blade of my knife between her hip and panties, flat side down. With a flick to the right, the lace rends. Then I do the other side.

After pulling the ruined underwear away from her, I lower myself to my knees. The hard tile against them gives me the dig of pain I need to maintain control of my cock.

I am not ready to come and I sure as hell am not doing it without being inside her. Not this time.

Her arousal perfumes the air around us. "Can you smell how excited you are, mi dolce fiore?"

"Yes," she moans. "What's dolce fiore?"

She forgot the mi, the most important of those three words. She is mine.

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