Page 12 of Made to Sin

I wondered what his methods were. Did he like to spank, tie up his partner, be begged, or possibly all of the above?

Sinfully, I wanted to find out.

Unable to meet his eyes with the impure thoughts I was having, I focused on the wall behind him. Though we were in anisolated hall, if anyone wandered astray, it could be very bad.

I wasn’t particularly scared of my husband, but I didn’t want to die. Not when my life hadn’t had a chance to start. Would Marco let me explain before he killed me? Would he believe me if I did?

“Get your hand off of me, this is inappropriate,” I choked out, the nerves suddenly suffocating.

“Since when do you care about what’s appropriate or not? Last I remembered, talking back to a don could get you killed.”

“You sure talk a lot about killing me. If you don’t do it soon, I might just believe it’s all for bluff,” I snapped.

Heat blazed in his eyes, but he blinked it away, pardoning me from dealing with the consequences. Adrenaline rushed through me as if I got away with playing with something I wasn’t supposed to, and, foolishly, I wanted to do it again.

“Cute of you to grow a backbone, sweetheart.”

I ignored his usage of the pet name. Right now, I needed to get out of his hold.

“Let go of me,” I repeated.

He didn’t listen. Instead, he gripped my neck a little tighter, holding down the pulse point until my breaths shallowed. It was unmistakable who made the demands, and it wasn’t me.

“Say it again, and I’ll drag you back to the crowd with my hand around your neck.”

I could only call his bluff so many times before he felt the need to prove it was true. Gambling was never my strong suit, so I didn’t take the risk. I ground my teeth until they hurt but dejectedly melted into his hold.

Satisfied with my defeat, he let go of my throat.

“Good girl.”

The praise was thrown out casually, but the connotation behind it made me itchy for the wrong reasons. This man liked to be begged.

My chest rose and fell unevenly from our little dance, capturinghis attention there. Insecurely, I started rubbing the area where his eyes touched.

He raised an amused brow. “No outrageous necklaces today?”

“No, if you hadn’t interrupted, you would know I was giving it to Esmeralda.”

His eyes softened a fraction of an inch at my response. I might not know why he hosted this charity, but I was starting to guess it meant something to him. My heart skipped its next beat at our shared understanding.

“You donated a seven-million-dollar necklace?”

I shrugged, unable to respond without giving everything away. “It’s for a good cause.”

Whatever was on my face, I knew Luciano could read between the lines because his eyes changed to unreadable darkness. “Does Marco hit you?”

His question dropped on me like a boulder. While I’d known him to not be the type to avoid confrontation, I never expected the bluntness of asking it outright.

I shook my head but committed the grave mistake of doing it too quickly.

He momentarily stiffened.

I took the distraction as a chance to slip around him to walk back to the main room. I already revealed too much. This was a topic I would never win, so the least I could do was not make it harder for myself. If word got out about Marco’s abuse, who knew what he would do to me?

I didn’t see Luciano again that night.

Neither did I see my husband.

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