Page 52 of Salvatore

His chest rises and falls as he continues to watch me, the angles along his face appearing to sharpen, as if he’s expecting me to reject him or somehow turn on him. But then he does something that catches me off guard. He relieves me of the bra dangling on my arms and kneels to rip off my panties, leaving me only in the black stilettos I recently bought.

His steel eyes drag the length of my body as he rises. “Jesus,” he groans.

I release a shuddering breath. I don’t remember ever feeling this naked, this exposed, this, this . . . vulnerable. As much is it unnerves me, I have to allow Salvatore to see me this way. He doesn’t seem to trust anyone. I need him to trust me.

He kicks out of his heavy boots, socks, jeans, underwear. I clench my fists, forcing myself not to withdraw or cover my body. The way his ravenous features seem to take every inch of me in tightens the tips of my breasts hard enough to sting. No one has ever looked at me so sinfully.

God help me, I like it.

His muscles strain as he edges back, his voice dropping another octave. “God damn, you’re beautiful.”

I lick my lips nervously when he strips out of his T-shirt, my need to touch him driving me insane. But it’s the bandage covering his arm that has me rushing forward. He catches me in an embrace as my fingers trace the edges of the dressing.

“What happened?” I ask, my fear for him distracting me from the warmth of his bare skin.

“We were jumped,” he reminds me. “It was bad, but I’m fine.”

“Salvatore,” I say, trying to keep myself from flat-out telling him to quit his job. “I don’t like what you do.”

He answers me in a way that completely shuts me up. “I’ve had a rough day,” he says. His erection is so stiff and full against my thigh it strains his voice. “This was a good start.” His hand pushes between us. “Let’s keep it going.”

He doesn’t want to talk about what happened and, considering how close my body is pressed against his, I can’t blame him.

“How?” I ask, knowing he wants me to.

Once more, his dark gaze clamps on mine like a vice. “I want to go down on you, all night. Will you let me . . .”

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