Page 12 of Steal Me

"Excuse me?" No, I don't just sound defensive. Iamdefensive, very much so.

"You must build your strength and stamina," he commands."Tu comprends?"

I'm nineteen to his... what? Mid-thirties? The insult stings beyond belief, from one professional criminal to another.

"I amsosorry that you find me terribly lacking,monsieur."

(Ha!)

I incline my head to the side as I look at him musingly. "May I ask why, though? Does being the dutiful wife of a mob boss involve some heavy lifting? Will I need to help carry dead bodies to their final resting place?" I press my hand to my heart, eyes impossibly wide. "I should warn you,monsieur, I'm afraid I might be too delicate for such tasks. Though I suppose I could hold the rope when you're dangling someone over the Seine?"

"Non, ma petite."His lips curve as he says this, and I hate the way the mere sight of it has every inch of me tingling. "Nothing so pedestrian."

"Then pray tell me—"

My words stumble to a stop when I suddenly find myself right next to him, his hand tangling in my hair while the other slides along my collarbone.

"Non." Myhusband(will I ever get used to calling him this?) actually purrs the word out, and my senses start to spiral.

Oh dear.

"I think it is better that I show you instead."

His mouth finds the sensitive spot below my ear as he speaks, and I forget how to breathe. His teeth graze my skin, and my body arches toward him without my permission.

"You have too many clothes on, Liana."

A whimper spills past my lips. I'm equal parts terrified and shamefully excited. His words make me think he's about to undress me, but instead his hands slowly stroke over the silk of my wedding dress, and heat steals over my cheeks as I feel my flesh swell achingly under his touch.

This is the part where I should tell him we willnothave this kind of marriage.

But when my lips part, no words of protest come out, and I only end up gasping as my husband's fingers trace the neckline of my dress...just before dipping inside of it. And when his thumb brushes directly across my lace-covered nipple—

Aaaah.

Another whimper escapes me, the sound explicitly coated in desire, even to my ears.

"Tu es si sensible, ma petite."Lazy pleasure unfurls from every word he murmurs."So responsive."

I don't speak.Can't.Not when he's finally tugged my dress down to my waist, and my entire body burns under his devouring gaze. My heart thunders against my chest as his fingers find the front clasp of my bra.

Click.

The cups fall to the side, my breasts spilling free, and I can only bite back a cry.

It's my first time to have a man stare at me like this. And the way he makes me feel with just his eyes alone...

Dark blue eyes suddenly glitter down at me.

"Tell me what you're thinking," my husband growls.

W-what? W-why? Where did that come from?

"Dites-moi."Tell me.

A command this time, and one that has me nervously wetting my lips because those two words come with a threat, a promise of repercussions that even I have no courage to face.

"I was just wondering..."

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