Page 33 of Deceit
“We werejustsaying goodnight, Pa,”Rafe said, surprisingly convincing.“Ithink they’re keen to be alone.”He stepped toward his father.“Shall we head back to the party and leave them to it?”
A flash of accomplishment passed through Georgio’s calculating eyes.“Isthatso?”
The pieces clicked together in my head. Sofia’s Google searches. Thelook of trepidation she threw my way throughout the evening whenever Georgio hissed in her ear, and now the way he watched us like all his wicked scheming was finally paying off.
Georgio Bianchi wanted me to fuck his daughter.
Sick fucker.
And yet, my cock twitched with the thought of what it would be like topound her tight, virginal pussy.
Fuck. I needed to get away from Bianchi’s scrutinizing gaze and the littlemoans of contentment Sofia kept letting out against the crook of my neck. My skin began tingling every time her breath brushed over me, doing nothing to help the rush of blood heading south.
“Listen, I know she’s your daughter, but I’ve waited all fucking day to stripher out of this wedding dress,”I began, keeping my tone stoic and not letting onjusthow much I did actually want to strip her out of her dress.“So how about you do what Rafe says and fuck off back to the party so I can do what I’ve been waiting to do.”
Georgio held my gaze, the cogs whirring in his head until eventually heallowed a triumphant grin to spread across his face.“Inthatcase, don’t let me stop you. I’ll get my men to escort you-”
“I think we can manage on our own,”I interrupted, gripping Sofia tightlyagainst me and dragging her past her father, her feet barely touching the floor.“I don’t expect us to be disturbed, am I clear?”
Rafe subtly snarled at me, and if it wasn’t for Bianchi watching me intently,he would have earned a punch to the face. He wanted me to make sure his father didn’t know Sofia was drunk, tough shit ifthatmeant playing up to Bianchi’s dirty scheming.
I shouldn’t have known the way to Sofia’s bedroom, having never been therebefore, but she didn’t question how I knew where it was in the enormous mansion as I dragged her through the halls, ignoring her slurred and random observations.
If she had asked, I would have made up some bullshit about it being a lucky guess rather than admitting the truth; I’d spent far too many hours hacking into the security feed inside the house to watch her.
Reaching her room, I shoved the door open, slamming it behind me beforereleasing her from my grasp. She swayed on unsteady feet as my gaze darted around, taking everything in, and doing my damned hardest to ignore the overpowering scent of cinnamon crashing into me like a tsunami.
As much as I’d seen her bedroom countless times on the camera feed, itlooked different nowthatI was inside it. The pink walls were lighter thanthey appeared, and it was bigger than what itseemedthrough the view of a screen.
One side of her room was taken up by an enormous walk-in wardrobe, nodoubt filled with a ridiculous amount of designer clothes Princess Sofia would only ever wear once. An ornate dressing table covered in expensive perfumes and makeup was near the wardrobe, and a silver velvet couch stood in front of a Juliet balcony, overlooking the fountain in the grounds of the garden.
A huge four-poster bed dominated the other half of the room, and at some point inthe evening, someone had scattered red rose petals over the neatly-made sheets. On either side of the bed were small tables with candles lightly flickering, and a bottle of champagne was chilling in a bucket of ice with two glass flutes waiting to be filled.
“Oh, yay. More champagne,”Sofia slurred when she saw what I was staringat.
Before she could make a beeline for it, I grabbed her arm.“You’ve hadenough.”
“You can’t-”hiccup“- tell me what to do.”
“Wanna fucking bet?”
An annoying giggle fell from her lips as she lifted a finger and jabbed itagainst my chest.“You’resooooserious all the time, Milo. You know, if you relaxed a little, you’d be a lot more fun.”
She hiccuped again, and before I could snap at her for calling me Milo, herknees buckled; the only reason she didn’t hit the floor was because I was still gripping her arm. Cursing internally, I dragged her over to the couch and shoved her down, dropping to my knees and rummaging through the layers of her dress to find her feet.
“Oooh, is this the part where you strip me out of my dress like you told Papayou wanted to?”she giggled, wiggling her leg as I attempted to unbuckle her shoe.
“No. This is the part where you get your ass into bed and go the fuck tosleep.”Managing to remove one shoe, I moved to the other, making quick work to slide it off her foot before standing again.“Now, Jailbait. I haven’t got the patience to be dealing with you tonight.”
“Blah, blah, blah,”she slurred, fighting against her dress to stand.“Guessyou’ll have to learn some patience. You’ve got to put up with me for the rest of your life.”
She prodded me in the chest again, giggling to herself. I snatched her hand,pulling her against my chest, and now she wasn’t wearing her shoes, I remembered how small she was against my frame.“I plan to have as little as possible to do with you after tonight. Now. Get. The fuck. To. Bed.”
A smirk crossed her lips, and I knew the next words to come from her wouldpiss me off.“I need help getting out of my dress.”
Yep, guessed it.
She turned, showing me the back of her dress. Gritting my teeth, I tugged atthe knot at the bottom of the corset, my cock getting the wrong memo and growing thicker. I wasn’t undressing her to fuck her. I was undressing her so the two of us could get some fucking sleep, and this damn night would be over with.
