Page 42 of Vow to Corrupt You
Deliberately, he brings his gloved hand to his mouth, gripping the leather material of his middle finger between his teeth as he slides his hand out.
“Show me how wicked you are, wicked one,” he murmurs, his hand sliding underneath the lacy fabric of my panties.
“Oh…” my head falls back involuntarily, resting on his strong torso. His addictive scent, which feels like an intoxicating rush, fills my nostrils and seeps into my lungs.
“You’re mine, Serena, all of you.” The way he growls my name, it’s thrilling.
A moan rumbles in my throat at the touch of his lips grazing the sensitive skin of my neck. My body trembles at his touch, my pulse quickening with each tantalizing kiss. A heat wave surges through my body, electric tingles coursing through my veins as his fingertips teasingly rub my sensitive petal. I can’t help the desire pooling between my thighs; he can feel it, too. My arousal coats his fingers more and more with every maddening stroke, my legs buckling reflexively, putting more pressure where his hand is between my thighs.
“Look at you, so desperate for my touch,” he murmurs, planting a hot kiss on my neck. “I love watching you unravel under my fingers.” Another kiss. “You can’t hide how much you want this, how much you need this.” Another intoxicating kiss. “Every inch of you is mine to control, to make you beg for more.” A teasing nibble of my skin. “Tell me, who do you belong to?”
He wants to break me? Shatter the innocence in me? Then I might as well play his game and see what happens. I will play and pretend he’s corrupting me just the way he wants and watch the aftermath. Because I’m stronger than anyone gives me credit for.
But the thing is, I’m about to play with fire and just hope I won’t get burned.
“I belong to you, Nikolaos.” My voice is a heavy breath, a consequence of my heightened arousal. He glides his fingertip through my slit and slides inside me, just enough to coat it with my wetness, but not enough to quench my desire.
“Yes, you do,” he whispers against my ear, putting his finger between his teeth to swiftly take off his glove before switching hands. Working my clit with one of his hands, he moves the other to my collarbone and traces his name inked on my skin, coating that spot with my own arousal. “You belong to me.”
His warm breath tickling my sensitive skin, combined with the maddening strokes between my thighs, turns my brain to mush. God, I want to feel him inside of me. The way my muscles constrict with need, with want, is unbearable. I wonder how good—how much better—more of his fingers will feel inside of me. But just when every molecule in me tenses, when my legs start shaking with the building tension that occurs just before the climax, Nikos stops.
No. No. No. No. No.
He can’t leave me like this.
My nipples are so hard and sensitive, aching, begging for more. The tension between my thighs screams for release, my entire body screams for release.
I told him I belonged to him. Isn’t that what he wanted to hear?
I turn to him, coming undone, precisely like he wanted me to. Fucking bastard. Is this all part of his wicked, twisted plan? How much longer will he keep torturing me like this? What else does he want me to do?
A smug grin tugs at his lips. “You didn’t think it’d be so easy, did you?”
Yes. “No.”
“Good.” A mischievous glint appears in his eyes. “Dress in anything you want. I’ll pay for all the dresses you have here.”
He throws a lazy wink at me. “I’ll be waiting in the car, mia bella.”
He wants to play dirty? Then, fine. I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine.
CHAPTER 20
Serena
Libertà. A golden sign shines above the black, heavy door that the doorman opens for us with a knowing nod at Nikos.
“They seem to know you everywhere,” I say with a hint of sarcasm as we enter the exclusive restaurant.
“Well, it’d be rather unusual if they didn’t know me in a restaurant I own.” His low voice rumbles in my ears, a sly smirk faintly twitching his lips.
“Oh, you own this restaurant?” That, I didn’t know. The restaurant ranks as one of the most elite dining establishments in Sicily, known for its delicious food.
“May I?” The cloakroom attendant extends his hand, his expression polite and courteous. With a smooth gesture, he slips the black overcoat off my shoulders, revealing a short, tight dress that would drive any man’s imagination wild.
I can barely suppress a victorious smile as Nikos’s eyes flicker at my bold choice of attire tonight. The velvet dress clings to my curves, the rich fabric shimmering under the restaurant’s dim lights. It has no sleeves or straps, held up only by the delicate curve of my breasts, a deep V-cut that accentuates my daring décolletage. The long, black velvet gloves extend to my elbows, which I chose to adorn with white pearl bracelets at the wrists. But to me, the gloves aren’t just a fancy detail. It’s a subtle power play I decided to start tonight.
“Should we…?” I murmur, gently grazing my teeth over my bottom lip, painted a bold, deep, sultry red.
