Page 51 of Dangerous Deception

No, I know I do.

Somehow, she’s snuck under my armor and nestled beneath my ribs, filling a space I didn’t even know was there.

The realization is all I need, and after three stuttering thrusts deep inside her, I come with a cry and pump her full of my release until I’m certain she’s filled to the brim.

Only then does Adelina pull me in and allow me to kiss her again.

I obey in an instant because in this moment, it hits me.

Where Adelina is concerned, I am no longer the one in control.

20

ADELINA

Last night was incredible.

Sex with someone I hate isn’t meant to feel that good, is it?

Reclaiming that part of myself after the attack was incredible, and I slept through the night without a single nightmare. Waking the next morning, my thoughts instantly turned to Raffaele and the prospect of more.

Will he give me more?

Or was that a one-time thing? Even entertaining the idea might not be the wisest decision, but all through breakfast and my lengthy morning shower, my thoughts linger on Raffaele. He was kind and attentive, drawing pleasure out of me that I didn’t even know existed. Having pleasured myself with my own hand, the last person I slept with was Carlos, but he was a very different kind of lover.

He required the lights off, missionary position, and finished very quickly. I thought that was the norm.

Raffaele proves differently. Not only did he ensure I orgasmed before we even fucked, but the angle at which he penetrated me sparked alive pleasure sensors I didn’t even knowexisted inside me. It was like magic. Despite the warmth of the shower, my skin throbs and tingles with every lingering kiss and graze of teeth he left on my body. Even my pussy aches slightly as I walk and dress in a light pink sundress and contemplate my plans for the day.

Contemplation that’s consistently interrupted by thoughts of Raffaele’s handsome face and sexy body. His rippling muscles were mouthwatering to touch, his kisses firm but tender, and his cock filled every inch of me and then some.

Was it so good because it was a hate fuck, if that even counts?

Do I even hate him?

Warring thoughts conflict in my mind, followed by a rush of sadness as my first instinct is to talk this out with Marie. But she isn’t here anymore.

I know what she would say, and I play it out in my head as I lather lotion across my dewy skin.

She’d ask me why I hate him. If I could tell her the truth, I’d tell her about his reputation for killing and slaughtering anyone who even looks at him wrong. That part is undeniable, yet it wars with this new side of him I’ve seen since arriving here. The cold killer of New York City hardly feels like the same man getting his hands dirty in the vineyard. I’d tell her about Carlos and the cold-blooded murder that took him from me.

As my thoughts turn to Carlos, one thing becomes abundantly clear.

How I felt for Carlos doesn’t hold a candle to the feelings swirling inside me about Raffaele.

Carlos was kind and sweet. Sometimes, he seemed uninterested and put it down to tiredness, but he was a good man, as far as I knew. I liked how he kissed me and looked at me like I was priceless. My father thought we were a perfect match.

But it’s different with Raffaele. When I think about him, my heart races slightly and I get oddly breathless. I want to ask himdumb questions just to hear him talk again. I want him to look at me constantly because when he does, he looks at me like it’s the first time he’s seen me indecadesand he’s eternally grateful for one last glimpse. I want his hands on my skin, sending those enticing electrical pulses through my body like it’s trying to tune in with him. I want to see him smile and hear his laugh.

I want him to call mesweetheartand nudge my chin with his knuckles to steal a kiss.

I never felt any of this with Carlos.

Am I simply lusting over Raffaele?

Or did I not have as strong feelings for Carlos as I thought I did? Did I like him because I was so used to following the expectations?

Maybe I didn’t even know what love really was until now.

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