Page 104 of Corrupted Deception

He turned around, though I hadn’t made a sound—Cielo Luciano was not a man one could sneak up on. His eyes grazed over me from head to toe, sparking with icy heat—if that made any sense.

I’d loved the asshole back then, and it seemed, I’d never stopped. It didn’t help that he was still the same as I remembered.

But I’d changed. Ten years ago, I hadn’t known myself, but I did now. And I wouldn’t do that to him.

“This is a bad idea,” I blurted out, not for the first time in our reacquaintance.

“You’ve mentioned that,” he said, unperturbed, turning away to browse the fridge. “I’m here to stay,tempesta.You might as well accept that.”

Oh no. No, that wasn’t going to happen. I shook my head as my heart pounded harder.

“This can’t work,” I persisted, even as a small, selfish part of me tried to rationalize it.

He closed the fridge and looked at me, a furrow between his brow. “You don’t have any food,” he replied very seriously.

Of course, I had food.

“What are you talking about?” I said, crossing the kitchen and stepping in front of him. “There’s plenty of food,” I said as I grabbed two giant containers of yogurt from where they were perched in front of the cantaloupe, strawberries, and almond milk.

Instead of responding, he slid his hands along my hips and up beneath the hem of my shirt, palming my tits and catching my nipples between his fingers.

Dear lord, that felt good.

“I thought you were hungry here,” I moaned, knowing this ‘conversation’ was headed in the wrong direction.

“I am,” he said, letting me go long enough to take the containers from my hands and set them down on the granite counter.

Then he closed the fridge and slammed my back against it, delving for my neck at the same time, forcing my head back to give him access.

Well, all right then.

As he worked his way up to my lips, he lifted me, wedging me between the fridge and his body with his hard cock pressed against my clit, grinding all that metal against my clit.

“God, that’s good,” I said, tipping my head back and enjoying the stimulation.

But he tilted my head down to look at him, his gaze meeting mine.

This wasn’t just physical, it was intimate—there was no denying it—and it made my heart clench as tears stung my eyes.

“Put me down,” I whispered.

His brow furrowed, but he did as I asked, though he kept his hands on my hips, looking at me questioningly.

“This was just supposed to be sex, Cielo, but it turned into something else,” I said while his hands grazed up my sides, the tips of his fingers catching the outer curves of my breasts and sending tingles everywhere he touched—the man had magical fingers.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to focus. “You were supposed to be paying attention here.”

He grinned. “If you wanted me to pay attention, then you should have come down dressed in a potato sack.” He took half a step back, looked me over, then shook his head. “No, I don’t think even that would have done it.”

I rolled my eyes, but dear lord, I wanted to give in.

Just fuck him,my mind screamed, reminding me how good he would feel.

I squeezed my hands into fists, digging my fingernails into my palms, feeling the sting and letting it ground me. This needed to end before I wasn’t the only one getting hurt.

“I love you,” I blurted out, then cringed as his fingers went perfectly still.

Way to go, Char. Scaring him right out the door was definitely one approach.

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