“I know I’m downright irresistible and ooze sex appeal,” he mutters through a yawn, eyes already half-closed, “but try not to molest me while I’m out.I’m a light sleeper.”
I roll my eyes.“Are you—”
“Shh.No talking.Don’t make me gag and bind you for real.”
I bite down on the giggle threatening to barrel past the ball of silken pockets square.
His lidded gaze flicks to the space between us.“You can come closer if you want.”
What are we, sixteen?I shake my head no.
With a displeased grunt, clearly not a fan of rejection, he shifts closer to me anyway.
If he had the faintest clue how much I crave him,achefor him,burnfor him, he would keep his damn distance.
I scoot away, widening the gap between us.
“Knock it off,” he growls, and shifts again, closing the gap.
When I start to scoot toward the edge of the bed, his hand shoots out and grabs the waistband of my shorts.With one firm pull, he drags me back until we’re pressed up against each other, his body warm, solid, unyielding.“Should I tie you up to keep you still?”he murmurs, voice pitched low, dark with threat.Or…invitation?
When I don’t answer, he tugs the silk from my mouth.“I thought you were smart.How do you not get it by now that I’m addicted to being close to you?”He glides his palm over my shoulder and down my arm, slow and lazy, like he has all the time in the world to drive me insane.His touch, casual as it is, stokes the mad lust I’ve been desperately trying to keep down.“Please…stay close.”
Body flushed, heart hammering, nipples pebbling beneath the thin fabric of my camisole, I somehow manage to breathe out, “Okay.”
His hand keeps going, tracing the curve of my waist before settling on my hip with possessive ease.With that, he closes his eyes and slips off.Just like that.
For a man who doesn’t trust me an iota, he sure is relaxed around me.
Meanwhile, I’m trying not to come apart.On the brink of hyperventilating from being enveloped in his overpowering aura.Turned on and tempted.
His lips areright there.Full and infuriatingly perfect.One tilt forward and I could taste him.
It’s taking everything in me not to lean in and take what I want.I’m usually good at suppressing my desires, but lying here with him is akin to locking an alcoholic inside a wine cellar and telling her to behave.
I’m an absolute mess right now.A hot, aching, lusty gooey mess.
And he’s just...asleep.Breaths deep and even, body lax, jaw slack.
Unbelievable.He wreaks havoc on my senses then sleeps like a baby.
Chest tight and full of emotions too big and tangled to name, I stare at him until my own eyes grow too heavy.
I don’t know when sleep eventually wins out, but the next time I’m awake, the room is bathed in sunlight and Stefano is gone.
His poetry book is still here, though.Left behind on the bed, face-down and open, marking the spot where he’d been.
Yawning, I pick it up and flip it over.
Two stanzas are underlined.
I ache for silence when you speak,
but crave your voice when you are gone.
You break me just by breathing near,
and I thank you for the ruin.
