Page 37 of Phantom Mine

Oxygen remains conspicuously absent as Matteo kicks my ankles to open up my legs for him. His palms flatten on either side of me as his large body comes to loom menacingly over mine. Thorny pinpricks of fear scatter down my arms when I stare up into the depthless pit of his eyes.

“I win,” he declares.

My answer is hissed through clenched teeth. “I slipped.”

He smirks. “Sore loser.”

Our labored breathing brings our lips to within a hair of each other’s with every ragged inhale. Try as I might, I can’t pretend to be unmoved by the rampant sexual chemistry buzzing between us.

“That was cute,” he breathes. “Really cute even, if you were to ask my cock what he thinks. You put up a good fight.”

The desire is as potent in his eyes as the obvious mistrust. He shifts slightly, repositioning himself so his hard cock presses between my legs. His nostrils flare when he takes in the way my eyes widen. Savage lust ripples across his face, etching itself into every single one of his features.

When I unwittingly arch into him, an animalistic rumble of warning rolls up his chest.

“Careful,pavona. Provoking me into fucking you isn’t going to save you. Not unless you give me some answers. Tell me who the fuck you are,” he demands.

“Why?” I challenge. “You’re going to kill me anyway, I might as well die a mystery to you.”

He ignores me. “Let’s start easy. Was your grandmother a fighting stripper as well, or are you the only one in your family with that particular combination of skills?”

I glare at him. “Myabuelaonce shot a man through her back door and went straight back to makingarepaslike nothing happened. She’d kick your ass if she saw the way you’ve been manhandling me.”

The man in question had come to try and assassinate myPapá. No one shed a tear when he left the property in a body bag.

“I’mmanhandling you? I believe you’re the one who punched me first.”

“You lunged at me!”

“You threw a knife at my face.”

I roll my eyes. “It was a letter opener, stop being so dramatic.”

He barks out a laugh. “So yourabuelais who you get it from then. What about your mum?”

I like the way his mouth curls around the word, bringing an Italian flair to my language.

“Both of my parents are dead.”

I’m careful not to reveal any actual information. If he thinks I’m an orphan, then he can’t tie me back to myPapáand the cartel. I shudder to think what he’d do to me if he ever found out who I really am.

“I’m sorry.” He strokes the side of my face, his gaze becoming gentler. “What’s your real name?”

I flatten my lips and seal them. “I told you, no.”

“Make your identity worth my time and I’ll spare you,” he coaxes.

“Death, please.”

Cold, sharp metal is pressed against my neck. I suck in a shocked breath, my lungs freezing at the top of my inhale. I didn’t even see him move.

“There are two ways I can give this blade back to you,pavona,” he purrs, changing tactics. “In your hand or buried in that pretty neck of yours. Which is it going to be?”

I arch my back and tilt my head, opening my throat up to him. “My neck.”

Matteo’s gaze trails down to my throat and I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Stubborn,” he purrs.

---