Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Eleven
Darkness had fallen, transforming the city from a sunny paradise into a sinful haven. With its skyscrapers outlined in neon colors and its bridge laid over the beach like a sparkling bet, Miami’s cityscape at night was quite different from what I was used to in Amsterdam, and certainly more so when one compared it to the slumbering beauty of Bruin Hemel.
Everything seemed bigger and brighter here, newer and fresher, but with it came a sense of urgency – if you don’t move fast enough, you might be left behind.
Which was exactly how I felt, I thought, ever since Marcus Ravelli had proposed his madcap idea about a marriage-slash-merger between us. We had been having lunch at his office, the food prepared by a luxury catering service, and when he had suggested a toast, I had taken the bait, asking what it would be for.
“Our impending marriage,” Marcus had answered smoothly, and I had ended up choking on my wine.
The memory would have made me laugh if anxiety hadn’t taken me hostage, causing cold sweat to envelop my skin like a straitjacket I couldn’t get shake myself out of. In all fairness with Marcus, the draft he had prepared was nothing but thorough and fair.
Despite its unconventional beginnings, the marriage was to be real in every sense – infidelity in any way was not allowed, children were part of the deal, and to avoid muddying the waters, we were to retain separate control of our assets even after our marriage.
“If you agree,” Marcus had said softly, “then know that I am in this for the long haul. I want this marriage to work.”
“But you don’t love me,” I had protested.
“Nor do you love me,” Marcus had rebutted, “but you do not see me worried about that, do you? What we have working for us is more stable – a genuine appreciation of each other’s company, respect, and most of all...”
Leaning forward, he slowly traced the outline of my lips, murmuring, “We have this.”
When his fingers remained on my mouth, his gaze darkening, I had found myself slowly parting my lips.
His finger slipped in, and I started sucking on it.
Marcus’ nostrils flared, and a feral look of desire glittered in his gaze. “Do you see it now,” he had rasped. “I don’t even have to say a word, and you already know what I want, bambina.”
His finger pushed deeper, and I sucked harder.
“Imagine if we can have this every minute of the day.”
And that had been it.
Marcus only had to dangle the promise of 24/7 fucking in front of me like a lollipop, and I had practically drooled while snatching it with both hands.
Turning to face my fiancé for half a day inside the limousine, I asked, “Are we near?”
“About ten minutes more, bambina.” A crooked grin formed on his lips. “Are you that excited about the wedding night?”
I turned red. “Of course not.” Well, yes, but it wouldn’t do to admit that.
“Well, I am.” Marcus pulled me close, and I couldn’t help closing my eyes as he nuzzled my cheek, saying huskily, “I can’t wait to fuck you—-”
His words made me shudder, and when his mouth moved to my ear, I shuddered anew as his teeth nipped the sensitive edge.
As he lifted his head, I whispered, “I just can’t believe we’re doing this.”
Marcus took my hand and pressed his lips to my knuckles. Our eyes met, and he said softly, “Tough.”
I grimaced, and he chuckled as he placed another kiss on my knuckles. “It will do you no good to worry, bambina. I’m not letting you change your mind.”
“You don’t own me,” I muttered.
“But you want to be,” he countered lazily. “Don’t you?”
His dark exotic eyes challenged me to deny it, and I could only look away, knowing he was right.
“Can your late grandmother really force your hand like this,” I mumbled.
“Unfortunately—-”Marcus sighed. “The answer is yes. As it is the business she founded and owned, it is hers to dispose of in any way she wishes.”
A moment of silence followed, and then Marcus murmured my name.
I turned to him, wishing I could embrace its sound to me. If he always said my name like that, I thought whimsically, then maybe I wouldn’t be so afraid.
“Does it truly scare you that much,” Marcus asked quietly, “the idea of being married to me?”
My shoulders lifted in a helpless shrug. “Everything’s just happening too fast.”
Marcus’ jaw clenched. “I know I’m being unfair. And if I could delay things, I would. You, more than any woman, deserve to be wooed—-”
Horrified at the realization that Marcus thought I was holding him to blame in any way, I quickly shook my head, protesting, “I’m not mad at you. I know and I understand that you don’t have any choice. The deadline for you to meet the conditions is tomorrow—-” I paused.