Page 89 of Diavolo

"What's wrong?" she asked.

His hand slid around her waist to claim her breasts. "I am your husband now. Call me by my name. Unless we are playing games. Then, you may address me as—sir."

He pinched her nipple in a playful manner. Elyse's breath inhaled sharply as pleasure shot through her. "I—"

Concentration faltered at the thought of more games with him. Alessandro smirked at her pinkening cheeks. "Do not be shy. You had no trouble saying it earlier. I will never forget the way you screamed and moaned and whimpered my na—"

She growled in warning tones. "Alessandro."

"I prefer Alessio, though," he countered mischievously. His fingertips traced tantalizing lines down her belly. "Everyone else calls me Alessandro. I want to hearAlessiofrom your lips and only your lips."

"Talk first," Elyse insisted as he continued to distract her, "fuck later."

Alessandro's hand slid between her legs, his palm grazed her clit, pressed down, then started rubbing, caressing, fondling hercunt with renewed interest. Desire flared once more. It was almost impossible to resist when all she wanted was to grind against him.

"Fine.Alessio," Elyse huffed in an attempt to wriggle away from his touch. "Now, tell me, what happened in Paris?"

The mention of Paris seemed to snuff out Alessandro's roguish demeanor like a doused flame. Hesitation shone from his eyes. "You do not want to know. It will alter the way you see me. And your opinion of me has never been very high."

His directness caught her off guard, but he wasn't incorrect. In many ways, she still thought of him as the devil. But even Lucifer had been an angel once. She willed herself to keep an open mind. Diplomatically, Elyse offered, "I'm your wife now. I must stand with you no matter what."

A thoughtful, shrewd look crossed his face. "This is true. Youarestuck with me."

"Paris," she prompted gently. "Focus."

His confidence seemed to return in full. Alessandro didn't mince words when he confessed, "I needed to dispose of a body. The logistics of this task delayed me."

Elyse tried not to freak out. "You disposed of a… body?"

"Technically,two. I disposed of one and staged the other."

What the hell did he mean? Elyse didn't know if she was ready to delve deeper into this morbid conversation. She asked uneasily, "Who were you trying to get rid of?"

"Enzo Marrone."

So the lapdog fromStiddawas dead. "And?"

"A narc from the Paris Police Prefecture. He was working undercover."

"Mierda," she muttered.

"He was profiling Morrone, and Morrone brought him to us while we wererenegotiatingthe terms of our agreement with Castillo's shipments."

"Were you the one who killed them?"

"I pulled the trigger on Morrone, but not on the officer," Alessandro replied. "With him, I only gave the order. To make it look like an accident."

Elyse's stomach churned. This was the hellish reality she'd married today. Dark, frightening, and all too real, she wanted to scream and weep at the brutality of his world. But Elyse swallowed her agony and simply asked, "Why was it necessary to kill them?"

"To send a message."

"What message?"

"I wanted Castillo to let Beltrán know what happens to men who try to fuck with me. It will make them think twice about going behind my back to do business with theStidda."

She didn't want to judge him, but her conscience was in turmoil. "Murdering two men seems a bit heavy-handed."

"Everyone must know that I am to be feared," he countered. "With enough fear in their hearts, enemies will not try to take what is mine, and allies will continue to stand by my side. Such measures prevent senseless deaths in the future."

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