Page 77 of Marriage of Revenge

"Hey." His voice cuts through my spiral, dark and sure. His grip tightens in my hair, making me meet his gaze. The world narrows to just this - just us, our breath mingling in a dance that belongs to no one else. The hunger in his eyes makes heat pool low in my belly, makes me want things I shouldn't.

"Go in the bathroom, under the shower." His voice is commanding. "I'll be there in a minute."

Suddenly I'm thinking about that book I read last summer, the one with the shower scene that had me aching, wondering if I'd ever feel a man's hands on me like that. If I'd ever have someone who cared about my pleasure as much as his own. Now Antonio - my dark prince turned Beast - is offering exactly that.

"You—you'll be..." The words tangle in my throat, reality tilting sideways. Because this isn't just fantasy anymore. This is real. This is happening. "With me?"

His answering smile carries enough heat to make my knees weak, promises darkening his eyes. And god help me, I want this. Want him. Want his hands mapping every inch of my skin, want to discover if he can make me feel the way I imagined late at night, alone with my thoughts and that book's dog-eared pages.

"Remember that night at the piano, Bell'cenda?" His voice drops lower, rougher. "How wet you were for me, how you trembled when I touched you? Been thinking about finishing what we started." His hands slide to my waist, pulling me flush against him. "These fingers have been craving you for years. Tonight they're going to play you like I used to play Chopin - slowly, deliberately.”

"Okay." The word slips out breathless, unconscious, completely inadequate for everything burning between us.

His low chuckle vibrates through me like thunder, and heat floods my cheeks as I realize I said that out loud. But the hunger in his eyes when they lock with mine? That tells me exactly how much he likes hearing me agree to whatever darkness he has planned.

"First," his voice drops to pure sin, "I'm going to make that pretty mouth scream my name, Bell'cenda." His fingers trail up my arm like he's mapping territory. "Going to take my time learning every inch of you. Make you come on my tongue until you're soaking wet and begging." He leans closer, breath hot against my ear. "Then when you touch yourself at night, desperate and aching... you'll only remember how I felt inside you. How I made you take every inch. How good the Beast can make his princess feel."

"Oh." The sound slips out embarrassingly needy. When did his threats start sounding like everything I shouldn't want? Everything I crave?

My eyes betray me, drawn to where his jeans strain against obvious need. The memory of him with Paola burns - how thick he looked, how she took all of him. My mouth goes desert-dry with desire and something like fear.

"You won't fit." I whisper it like confession.

His lips find that spot behind my ear that turns my spine liquid. "I'll stretch that tight little pussy until you take everything I give you." The dark promise in his growl pools heat between my legs. Then he pauses, possession roughening his tone. "Has anyone else tried?"

I hesitate, but he already owns so many of my secrets... "My vibrator couldn't." Heat floods my face. "I mean, the rabbit ears worked fine, but... I wasn't... ready enough. And no. No one else."

His mouth claims mine like he's trying to devour the confession straight from my tongue.

"Christ, you're going to be the death of me, Bell'cenda." His growl vibrates against my lips as we part. "Shower. Now. I'll follow."

My pulse performs its own symphony as I walk away. Desire tangles with nerves - part of me wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all, part wants to hide under silk sheets until the Beast forgets I exist.

The bathroom surprises me - clearly renovated, all gleaming tile and modern fixtures. The shower could fit five people, the tub's big enough to swim in. Everything screams luxury in a fortress that embraces decay everywhere else.

I hover, uncertain. Strip now? Wait for him? The sound of his bedroom door closing makes my stomach flip, followed by muffled voices in the hall. Is he changing his mind? Was this just another game - get the virgin naked, then laugh? Something cold wraps around my chest.

Then I spot them - small bottles arranged with military precision. Each one I sniff carries the same scent.

Honeysuckle.

Like he knew I was coming.

Or maybe he hoped.

The bathroom door opens and my brain short-circuits - Antonio wearing nothing but jeans that ride low on his hips, every muscle a testament to power barely contained. My mouth goes dry at the sight.

"Had to have your scent ready." His lips find the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "Like this." His fingers thread through my curls. "Short suits you."

"Hmm-hmm." Fantastic. Apparently my vocabulary's taken an early retirement. Really nailing this seduction thing.

"Strip for me." His voice carries dark promise. When he pulls something from his back pocket, my pulse skips like before performance jitters. "To make it better." The bottle of lubricant makes something twist in my chest - inadequacy warring with need. But the way he's looking at me, like he's barely keeping the Beast leashed, like he wants to devour me whole? It ignites something molten low in my belly. "Let me help you," he growls.

"Hmm-hmm." Oh good, still channeling my inner caveman. Really showing off my communications skills here.

"Watch yourself." He turns me toward the mirror, pressing against my back so I feel exactly how much he needs this. "See how I look at you. How fucking perfect you are, Bell'cenda."

And maybe that's what I needed to hear.

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