Page 89 of Merciful Lies

“Anna!” I yell for the second or third time, I don’t know.

I hear Angel, maybe Maria, too, calling our names. But I ignore them.

I have to catch my wife before she gets out that door.

And when I do, I am going to show her what it means to turn your back on a viper.

CHAPTER FORTY-ANNA

“Where do you think you’re going, Wife?”

Nico flexes his hips, and I cease my struggling. The thick bar of his cock is right against the crack of my ass. He flexes again and I bite my tongue to keep from moaning.

I don’t want to like how it feels, but I do.

“Let me go,” I tell him.

“No,” he says then backs up, the steel band of his arms tight around my waist.

He picks me up, and I ignore the men standing guard outside his office. He dips his chin, and one opens the office door. Then we’re inside and Nico kicks it shut.

He is still holding me when he slams one hand on the biometric pad, engaging all locks.

“Nico, I want to leave.”

“Too bad,” he says, bringing me to the bedroom I know is behind the second door.

I struggle.

How many other women has he had there?

“None. You are the only woman I have ever brought here. The only woman who ever slept in my bed at the condo. The only woman in my life, period.”

I growl in frustration and stomp my foot down on top of his. Finally, he lets go, and I try to move, but he’s blocking the way.

“Oh really? Then what was that upstairs, huh? You just giving out free protection to every girl in a tight dress?” I spit the question.

My chest is heaving, and his eyes are drawn to it. I want to kick him, but there’s no room.

“Speaking of tight dresses,” he growls, and his fingers dip between my cleavage as he pulls me closer.

My whole body is tingling. I shouldn’t let him do this, but when he dips his head and claims my lips, I can’t help myself. I kiss him back.

“You look so fucking good, Rosebud. You wear this for me?” he asks, and I feel his hand snake up my spine, gripping the base of my neck.

He tilts my head to deepen the kiss, and I let him. God help me, I participate. My tongue is sliding against his and I drink him in. His spicy sweet essence hits me hard, and I am drunk on it.

Then I remember the skinny woman upstairs and I bite down on his lower lip.

Hard.

Hard enough to draw blood.

Nico lifts his head. His eyes are blazing, and red stains his lips. But he’s not mad.

I should have remembered this is Nico. He’s no stranger to violence, and I think it turns him on even more.

“Feel this, Rosebud?” he asks, pressing his hard length against my belly before shoving my back onto the mattress.

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