Page 70 of The Devil's Deal

Cutting through me with a single stroke.

Not an ounce of the man from last night behind his gaze.

“You’re really testing me, Chiara, and I’m growing tired of it,” he threatens in a calm, collected voice. “Maybe I should do something about it.”

His other hand slides up and down my side and my eyes drift to a close from the hypnotizing touch. My mind is at war, fighting an attraction it can’t seem to control. I’m lost to him, even when I wish I weren’t.

He’s lust in its cruelest form. I want to savor every inch of him and hurt him while I do it.

“There’s nothing you can do that hasn’t been done.” I can’t help fighting back. It’s been built in me, like a brand I wear with honor.

“That’s where you’re wrong. There’s so much I can do to you.” His hand delves deeper into my hip, his fingers bleeding pain through me.

I don’t mind the hurt. I rather enjoy it.

I push my ass further into him, dropping the knife before it finds itself embedded in his thigh.

His hand lets go of my hair, sliding to my front, right above my breasts. I control my breathing, not wanting him to see the effect he has on me, even though I bet he knows how much my body craves his.

The pads of his fingers climb up leisurely.

Slow. So slow.

My nipples harden of their own accord from the anticipation, the need for him twining up my body, setting me off with thoughts of him sinking inside me right up against this counter. I want him to take me right here, right now, without asking.

The desire is unfathomable and demonic. But I want him. The rational side of me is long gone. I’m taken over by euphoria.

His cock is hard against the small of my back as his fingers skim up the length of my neck, finding home around the base of my jaw. He cups it tightly, but it’s more of a possession, showing me his power.

He tilts my head back once more, and my eyes are back on his. The inexplicable thirst, the need, spills from his gaze.

“You want it, don’t you, baby?” He arches his hips roughly into me, erasing any confusion as to what he meant. His hand on my hip glides south until a finger slides up my wet slit. “I’ll bet you taste real good when you come.”

I whimper from the dirtiness, and he groans, pressing his finger harder on my clit, making the fabric of my panties rub against me.

“I bet you want to find out,” I add.

“I’d lie if I said I don’t picture you at my mercy,” he drawls with a long, throaty rasp, his gaze still pinned to mine, his thumb brushing roughly over my lower lip. “There are so many things I could do to you, Chiara. So many ways I can punish you for…”

His brows furrow with an unexplained change of emotion, from lust to pain.

Before I can ask what he was going to punish me for, he’s off of me so fast, it’s as though he wasn’t there at all, strolling away like I don’t matter.

And I guess I don’t. I'm no one.

A minute later, I hear what sounds like the front door closing. I press my fingers into my eyes, rubbing away the tension he put there.

The oven alarm for the potatoes I forgot about comes on. I shut it off and storm out of the kitchen, finding a guard in the living room, right by the door leading toward the pool. I get his attention with a polite wave.

“Ma’am.” He nods.

“Hi. What’s your name again?” I twirl a loose strand of hair, giving him my doe eyes.

“I’m Miles, ma'am.”

“Nice to meet you, Miles,” I tell the man, who looks maybe ten years older than me, a touch of a beard lining his tanned jaw. “Can you tell me if there are cameras by the pool area?”

He looks unsure of whether he should answer.

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