Page 43 of Beautiful Devil

What a way to spend my wedding night,I think to myself.

Walking the short distance to my bathroom, I stumble slightly. Maybe drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t such a good idea.

I manage to get my clothes off and into the shower, letting the hot water hit my sore back for a couple of minutes before I lather up and jerk off. I come with her name on my lips, shooting a bigger load than I ever have before.

Stepping out of the shower, I forgo drying off and wrap the towel around my waist as the effects from all the alcohol I consumed really starts to hit me. Dizzy as hell, I somehow manage to make it upstairs.

Finally reaching my room, I turn the handle only to realize it’s locked.Shit. I forgot the key downstairs. There’s no way I can make it downstairs and then back up. I’m about to attempt to kick the door down when I remember that I have a spare key on the top of the doorframe.

Grabbing it, I go to unlock the door, but in my sloppy state, it takes me five tries before I even get the key in the hole. I open the door slowly in case my wife is still up and decides to resume her attack on me.

Oh,la mia piccola gattina.

Peaking my head inside, I see a small lump on the left side of the bed. Waiting to see if she moves, I step inside as quietly as I can, shutting and locking the door behind me before turning around to look at my wife.

She’s lying on her side with her back to me, but I can see the slight rise and fall of her body. Another wave of dizziness passes through me, and I know I need to lie down. Dropping my towel so I’m buck naked, I walk over to the bed and climb in as carefully as possible so I don’t disturb her. I need sleep, not another screaming match.

As soon as I get under the covers, her intoxicating scent fills my nose, and the warmth of her body beckons me. Unable to stop myself, I press up behind her, draping my arm over her waist and pulling her back flush against my chest. Burying my nose in her hair, I take a deep breath, memorizing the hints of cherry blossoms and vanilla.

Mm.

For the first time today, I feel at ease. Exhaustion takes over, and I’m out with her sweet smell surrounding me.

CHAPTER14

GIA

I feel hot– way too hot – as I begin to wake from my sleep, which, as much as I hate to admit, was the best sleep I’ve had in the longest time. A feeling of heaviness around my waist registers, along with the radiating heat that's coming from behind me. My eyes shoot open, and I almost scream when I see that Fabi’s arms are draped around my waist, holding me.

The urge to scream and shout dies away when I take in the calm, peaceful look on his face, a look I'm sure doesn't cross it all too often. His thick black eyebrows are relaxed, not furrowed as I’ve always noticed them to be. His eyelashes that would make any female jealous fan out across his cheeks. My eyes fall down to his mouth, which if I didn’t know any better seems to hold a small smile. His soft, plump lips look deliciously divine and goosebumps pimple all over my body at the thought of them on my own…on my body.

Get a fucking grip on yourself, Gia. This man kidnapped you, then forced you to marry him. You can't sit here imagining what his lips would feel like again.

But I do.

I turn to face him, his arm still draped around my waist, never flinching. I lie there, tuck my hands under my head, and simply stare at his beautiful face.

How can a man be so dark and dangerous that even the devil himself would no doubt fear him, but so goddamn beautiful? It's a cruel joke, really. If he weren’t so dark and dangerous and was just a standard guy, then perhaps…oh, who am I kidding? There is no universe where I would ever have a real chance with a guy like him. The realization sends a pang of sadness to my core, and confusion takes over my face.

How can I be sad about a man I refuse to allow myself to be attracted to? Before I have a chance to spiral any deeper, a small groan rumbles up his throat, and he pulls his hand off my waist to stretch his toned body. Not wanting to deal with confrontation right now, I close my eyes immediately and pretend to still be asleep.

I can feel his eyes on me. His arm is still where it's been all morning and most likely all night. I don't know how much longer I can pretend to sleep when all I can feel is his eyes boring into me.

I feel him move and sense his body coming closer to mine. Then, careful as anything, I feel the pressure of his lips on the top of my head, lingering for a few aching moments.

“Buongiorno, mia bella moglie. Mi dispiace tanto. I hate me too.”

I keep my eyes closed and wait to hear him getting dressed, but instead, I hear a door close and the shower turn on.

Finally.

Once I hear Fabi turning the shower on, I open my eyes. I hate that I don’t understand Italian. My parents both speak it, but never thought to teach their daughter. They’d said growing up in America, where everyone spoke English, there was no need.

Yeah, well, that's really helping now, Mom and Dad.

I wish I knew what he’d said. I hope the frown that I felt across my face when he uttered the wordsI hate me toowent unnoticed. Because as much as I hate him and the position he’s now put me in, I also hate how suddenly cold the bed felt as he got up to go shower. How every time he walks out of the room, the temperature seems to plummet. And I certainly hate how I spent far too long staring at his goddamn beautiful face as he slept.

What feels like an eternity later, Fabi exits the bathroom, and our eyes meet.

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