Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
He shouldn’t know about the engagement. We haven’t announced it to a great number of people yet. Not even the made men know. It’ll become public news when my mother sends out the invitations for the engagement party.
Unless someone told him.
Petrov.
“What did Petrov want with my fiancée?”
“He just wanted to know who she was. A name, that’s all. I didn’t think asking around about some girl would raise flags.”
Lesson learned too late.
Chapter Twenty-Six- Emma
Enzo's walk-in closet is larger than any closet has the right to be. I've seen smaller clothing stores, but that isn't what has me struggling to pick my jaw off of the ground.
"Enzo," I call out, managing to close my mouth and press my lips together as I stare at the bench he has sitting in his closet. "You realize that this belongs outside, right? It's a garden bench, not indoor seating."
I could deny what it is and tell myself that it's just a random bench. But I'm not stupid and lying to myself is a bad habit to get into. I know exactly what that bench is and why he has it in here, I just need to hear him say it himself so that I can gauge how insane the man I'm dealing with is.
The smile he has on his face when he comes into the room is not at all sorry. "What can I say? I'm a sentimental man," he says as he leans on the doorway. "If you think that's special you should see what I have framed in my nightstand drawer."
"I don't think I want to know," I growl out.
I gnaw my lip. Since it's so cold outside, I haven't had to make excuses to avoid going out into the garden. Something about seeing the bench where I lost my virginity makes me nervous. It's a ridiculous notion, it's just a garden seat, but now it's unavoidable.
Enzo had all of my clothes hung up in his closet. One more way that he can merge our lives so that I can't escape him.
"When did you have this brought into your closet?" I ask him, shaking my head in disbelief.
"The night after I fucked you on it. No one deserves to sit on the spot where you lost your virginity, where you covered my cock with your cum and blood," he tells me. His eyes are heavy, and he reaches down a hand to grope his hardening cock. While he might not want anyone else sitting on this bench, I don't doubt that he's stroked his cock while reliving the memory of us on it.
Curiosity is the devil because I feel myself having to bite my tongue to keep myself from answering. Even that isn't enough to stop me. "What do you keep in your nightstand drawer?"
The smile on his face drips of sin as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. "Stay here and I'll show you," he tells me.
Having sex with Enzo again was a mistake, even if it was technically just oral. It opened the gates for all sorts of desires I don't have the capacity to handle.
He returns, frame in hand. When he turns it over, it's the white, lacy thong that I wore to the wedding.
"I thought it was appropriate that you wore white the night I fucked away your virginity. I learned all sorts of interesting things about you, like how you went to Catholic school. I jacked myself off with thoughts of you in your schoolgirl skirt with these," he tells me.
I scoff at him, but heat starts to turn in my stomach. My head and my groin are at odds over his confessions because I feel wetness pool between my legs. I shift uncomfortably and it doesn't escape his attention. His smile turns wicked as he continues to voice his desires.
"I thought about how I could be the priest that you give your confessions over to, who you come to for penance," he tells me and I actually do manage to laugh at that.
"I can assure you that I don't have any dirty priest fantasies. All the priests I've come into encounter with have been at least 60 years old," I tell him.
"Good thing this is my fantasy and not yours. Now be a good girl and sit down on the bench and spread your legs for me," he commands. His authoritative tone has me listening without thinking. He walks behind me, placing his hands on my waist and whispering into my ear. "I knew you wanted to be a good girl for me, which is why you would come to me. You'd sit inside the confession booth and tell me about all the ways you've been naughty. So tell me, what dirty things did you do when I wasn't around to take care of this ache I caused?"