Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Too bad for him because she's in mine now. Hell will freeze over before I give her up willingly.
"Cristo," I growl to myself. "Get it together." She's supposed to be a means to an end, nothing more. And yet it sure as hell doesn't feel that way. This isn't just about the war, and I damn well know it. Something about her has long dormant instincts shaking off their hibernation and rising to their feet. I want her in my bed because I'll be damned if she's in any other.
I have no name for the hot flare of possession. No experience with the burning jealousy. But I feel them when I look at her anyway. She's chained to my bed, under my control, and I still want to destroy any motherfucker who even thinks he has a claim on her. What the fuck do you call that?
Idiocy, Luca. You call it idiocy.
I stomp toward the bed and carefully unhook her right wrist from the restraint. She mumbles incoherently when I lift her arm to inspect it for any marks and then sighs softly.
I repeat the process with the left, relieved to see no marks or bruises from the restraints. She grumbles this time, her brows furrowing.
I fully intend to leave her in peace. At least, I tell myself I do. But I find myself slipping into the bed beside her anyway. Just for a minute.
As soon as I stretch out, she snuggles up against me, pressing her tiny feet up against my calves. I groan, my dick stirring to life as she burrows into me as if I've held her this way a thousand times.
Jesus Christ. She's killing me here.
And I'm going to let her do it.
I don't sleep. I watch over her until the sun lights the horizon and then carefully slip from the bed. I briefly contemplate leaving her unrestrained and then remember her trying to unscrew the light bulb to use as a weapon.
She's liable to hurt herself trying to stab me with whatever random shit she manages to turn into a shiv. I won't allow that. So I regretfully slip the restraints back onto her wrists. I'll remove them once we have a chance to set some ground rules.
I barely manage to get them in place before her amber eyes pop open, settling on me. She blinks once before confusion turns to suspicion.
"What are you doing?" she demands, her voice low and throaty from sleep. She's tousled, a tiny crease across her cheek. "Why are you half naked?"
"Just got up," I say. It's not technically a lie. "I thought you might need to use the restroom." That part is entirely made up. I hoped she'd sleep a little longer so I could catch a few hours.
Her suspicious gaze flits across my face, searching for any hint that I'm bullshitting her. Clearly, my little principessa doesn't trust easily, either. She has a survivor's instinct. In this world, it's necessary. Kill or be killed. Doesn't it always come down to one or the other?
Not for her. Never for her.
"I can come back later…."
"No!" She sits up quickly, her tangled hair tumbling down her back. Heat climbs into her cheeks, staining them a dusty pink. "Um, I'll go now."
I jerk my chin in a nod and set to work undoing the restraints I just replaced around her delicate wrists. "Did you sleep well?"
"Does anyone sleep well chained to a bed?" She eyes me balefully.
"I wouldn't know. I've never been in your shoes."
"Want to trade places? I'll play the captor. You can be the helpless hostage," she retorts, sarcasm heavy in her voice. "I'll even let you wear my chains."
A ghost of a smile dances at my lips. "Is this your way of telling me you want to tie me to the bed, bella?"
"Only if I can set it on fire once you're in it," she says, batting her lashes at me.
I chuckle, unoffended. Her honesty is refreshing. No one else would even dare speak to me in such a way. Even our enemies watch their mouths when they speak to us. Not Callandria. She doesn't give a flying fuck if I'm a Valentino or the Pope. To her, I'm just the asshole keeping her against her will.
"Go to the bathroom before you get yourself in trouble, Callandria," I say, releasing her from her bonds.
She pulls her hands toward her body, rubbing her wrists as if they hurt. I frown at the sight. Perhaps I missed some bruise or mark?
"How long do you plan to keep me chained like a dog, Luca?" she asks, climbing to her feet.
"That depends."
"On what?"
"Go to the bathroom, principessa, and then we'll talk."
She stares up at me for a moment, her lips pursed, and then she huffs. "Non rompermi le scatole, Luca Valentino." Don't break my boxes, Luca Valentino. Don't get on my nerves. She sails past me, muttering under her breath.