My head still spun from my grandmother’s announcement. An engagement to Santino Russo!
My gaze traveled up his black vest, black tie, and that deep, dark gaze that could burn like coal when he was buried deep inside me. Despite our current circumstance and all the history, his presence felt warm and safe.
Mental check needed! Santi’s office.
The music and laughter drifted through the closed door, but it almost felt like we were alone in the world. In our own universe. Just like that night when he gave me my first kiss.
And called it a mistake, I reminded myself dryly.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him. “And don’t give me another bullshit answer.”
Santi didn’t miss a beat. “I’m waiting for you.”
My brows creased. “Why?”
He leaned against the wall, his palm flat against it. He looked so casual that you’d think we were best friends. Yet, his eyes told a different story. There was dark tension looming in them.
“You are smart, Amore,” he drawled, his tone dangerously soft. “You tell me.”
I took a step to leave, but his rough hand grabbed my wrist.
“Tell me.” His voice was low, demanding. Our eyes locked, and I watched in dark delight as desire flared in his gaze.
When he ordered me around, it made me clench with need. It was so wrong, but I couldn’t help it. The moment I entered the office, the scent of spice, cedarwood, and uniquely Santi blasted all my senses. Combine it with my memories of my first kiss and it was dooming.
His close proximity was shattering all my defenses. From the first kiss, Santino Russo has seeped into my bloodstream and there was no flushing him out.
“I’m waiting,” he purred. His hot breath laced my neck, sending shivers down my body. His dark eyes were pulling me in, seducing me. It would be so easy to drown in it, lean closer to him to soothe this ache pulsing through my veins.
“You want to chitchat?” I suggested sarcastically. Dark amusement ghosted through his gaze.
“Wrong, baby.” His hand came to my neck, trailing the vein that connected my brain and my heart. It should make me smarter, but it would seem my brain and heart wanted the same thing.Santino.
He knew I still wanted him. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in my mind that Santi knew exactly how much I desired him. And that irked me and fueled my bitter anger more than anything.
I opened my mouth to speak, but before any words came out, he grabbed my arm and slammed my body against his. His mouth crashed onto mine. The kiss was raw and hard, possessive. He forced his tongue between my lips and took what belonged to him.
My legs quivered and my sweet spot clenched, knowing how much pleasure this man could bring me. He devoured me, his hand on the nape of my neck. He yanked my hair, tilting my head as he continued to consume my mouth.
All my thoughts evaporated, and I returned his kiss with greed. He ripped his mouth from mine and sucked on my neck, trailing kisses up to my earlobe.
“You are mine,” he whispered in my ear. He thrust his tongue into my ear canal, and I nearly melted. My body pressed against him, closing all the distance between us, I needed him inside me. “Mine, Amore.”
A moan shattered the quiet night, and he clamped his mouth to mine; our tongues swirled together in that familiar way.
Without warning, he broke the kiss, and the sense of loss was instant. We stood there, staring at each other, his eyes blazing embers.
“Why would you kiss me?” I rasped.
God, he smelled so good. Like home. The sounds of my ragged breathing filled his empty office, and it felt like déjà vu from my last visit to his office. If he said it was a mistake, I might just lose my shit.
His stare was burning hot.
“To erase the taste of Adriano from your lips,” he muttered against my lips. “Besides, we are engaged. I can kiss you whenever I like.” A surge of languid heat leaked into my bloodstream and pooled between my thighs.
“Santi, this can’t happen,” I rasped. My lips might have protested but my body didn’t. My hands braced against his stomach, my fingers unwillingly curling into his muscle. His heat seeped through my skin and into my bloodstream.
“This is happening,” he said darkly, matter-of-factly. “There are no alternatives.”