Page 35 of Burning Beauty

"Marc..." she sighed.

Seconds later she was being shaken violently awake by a hand squeezing her throat. She yelped, her eyes flying open to confront the furiously angry gaze of Niccolo DeLuca. She'd forgotten about him, about his summons, about his determination to have her body.

Her hands flew to his wrist where he was pinning her to the bed by her neck.

"Who is Marc?" His voice was much harsher than she'd ever heard before.

She swallowed and shook her head, struggling to breathe. His grip was too hard, his fingers too tight, he was going to strangle her! Panic began to set in as tears stung her eyes and she started to struggle in earnest, trying to buck him off.

He dragged her up by the neck until she was sitting, shook her and pulled her in until their noses were nearly touching. "Who the fuck is Marc?" he snarled in her face. "Answer me right now, or I will beat it out of you."

"Can't breathe!" she tried to tell him, but her airway was blocked and the only sound that came out was a sharp hiss.

He seemed to figure it out though and eased his grip on her neck.

"Speak, now!"

"He was my fiancé!" she gasped, gripping his fingers with hers and trying to pull them away.

"Was? What happened?" Nic demanded.

"He's dead," she answered quickly.

He released his grip and Maria scuttled backwards until she was pressed against the headboard. She reached for her throat and huddled in on herself, involuntary tears stinging her eyes. As the terror began to recede, she started to feel royally angry.

"You bastard!" she said hoarsely through a swollen throat. "You could've fucking killed me."

"You weren't in any danger," he said dispassionately.

"You're a fucking psychopath!" she snarled.

He pointed at her, putting his finger right in her face. "You don't say another man's name in my bed, understand?"

"I was fucking asleep!" she snapped, badly wanting to bite his finger.

"Then you will erase this other man from your memory until there is only me, because I refuse to share you, even with a ghost."

She stared at him for a few seconds and then crawled toward the edge of the bed. "I'm out of here."

He grabbed her by the waist and dragged her back toward him. "You stay in my bed tonight, Maria."

She turned on him, twisting and shoving his hands away. "I'm not staying in the same bed as some murdering asshole with jealousy issues. I might not wake up in the morning."

He gripped her upper arms with hard hands and pulled her onto his lap. "I do not care what you want, Maria. I want you to stay and so you shall."

She struggled in his hold, but he tightened his fingers until they were bruising. Finally, she went limp in his arms, giving up the fight for now. He pulled her down onto the bed and pushed her arms over her head. She tried to resist again but he easily overpowered her. The scent of his light cologne filled the air around them. It was delicious, masculine, mouth-watering. She turned her head trying to escape the scent and the man filling her vision.

He gripped her chin and turned her head back up to his. Before she could speak, he was taking her lips with his. She braced for a brutal onslaught, but he tricked her. He attacked her with a soft, explorative mind-drugging kiss. After a moment, she was no longer struggling against him but against herself. She felt his every touch right down to her toes in a rush of tingles that ignited the blood in her veins.

She twisted her head to the side and gasped, "Stop it, Nic! I don't want this."

"But I do," he murmured, his lips trailing a fiery path down her exposed throat to her cleavage.

Before she could react, he was shoving her nightshirt up to her neck and then pulling it off her head. Her arms were forced up and she had no chance to grab at the disappearing fabric. Then she was laying beneath him, naked except for a pair of thin panties. She wiggled and tried to bring her hands down to cover her breasts, but he grabbed them and dragged them back up, breaking his kiss so he could lean back and look his fill.

"You are so fucking beautiful, woman," he said, his voice taking on a heated guttural quality.

Though he'd seen her naked before when she stripped for him in the Las Vegas hotel, she felt more vulnerable in this moment, laying helpless underneath him. She was scared of him, scared of what he could do to her, physically, mentally and emotionally. She knew deep down to her bones that this man could cause a lot of damage. Perhaps even kill her.

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