Page 62 of Claimed
While my mind didn’t get it, my body hummed with desire. It seemed there was no logic when it came to the flesh.
And. . .while I wasn't in love with Gianni—not yet, anyway—the thought of him, the thought of what he might do to me tonight, sent delicious, electric sensations through my body.
Every greedy cell pulsed for Gianni.
Throbbed.
And for the first time in my life, I longed for someone so desperately I could barely control my breathing.
The man cut off Vito’s hand. . .why am I not afraid?
Gianni had been nothing short of a psychotic gentleman, a paradox that was as terrifying as it was intoxicating.
A mad man that dripped with dark charm.
I knew he was dangerous—no, horrifically lethal—and yet, there was something about him that made me want to get closer, to understand the darkness that radiated from him.
Fuck. I’m actually. . .happy that I’m married to him, instead of some other guy. Is that not crazy?
Unfortunately, my reflection didn’t respond.
But it didn’t have to, I knew the answer.
The obvious violence that would always surround Gianni terrified me, yet a darker part of me—the part that had grown up in this world—was almost relieved to know he could protect me with that same brutality. I hated myself for it, but the truth was undisputable.
With Gianni, I felt safer than I had in years.
I could feel myself mentally slipping, the walls I had carefully constructed around my heart through the years, were now cracking.
All of a sudden, my feelings for Gianni were rising and it was too fast.
Too intense.
But, I couldn't stop it.
The way he looked at me, the way he spoke to me—it was as if he saw right through the layers of armor I had built over the years, straight to the vulnerable girl I tried so hard to hide.
The one that wanted to be loved.
To be seen.
To belong.
Jesus. . .and he wants me to call him Daddy. . .and. . .I fucking want to call him that. . .Why? What is wrong with me?
Of course, I couldn't afford to be naive. I couldn't let myself fall for him completely, not when the stakes were so high.
Gianni was capable of unimaginable things, I had seen glimpses of that already.
If he ever turned that darkness on me, if he ever thought he could control me or break me, he would learn just how fast I could run.
I could hide.
Please, God. Don’t let it ever get to that.
The thought of running made my heart ache.
As much as I feared what Gianni could become, I wanted to believe that he could be different with me. That he could be the man he promised—protective, possessive, but never cruel.
