The man standing here now, studying my sword collection like it personally offended him, is moody, broody, unpredictable Stefano.
And that’s fine.I love all his versions.I’ll just have to recalibrate, because this version is a bit trickier.He requires more patience, more finesse.
Without another word, I leave him there and head upstairs to shower.
When I return twenty minutes later, he’s standing by the living room windows, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the fading light.A glass of whiskey dangles from his fingers, the amber liquid catching the soft, warm glow.There’s a tautness to him, a stillness as he stares out at the gardens.
It never fails to surprise me how swiftly his moods can shift.
With this version of Stefano, indifference works best.Apathy draws him in.It teases his attention, tickles his intrigue.His ego registers it as a challenge—not being feared or fawned over.
With draggy, unhurried steps, I slip right into that mode as I cross the room.Flop down into an armchair, as though I couldn’t care less about the weight pressing between us.
“Alright.”I hang my head to the side, my damp hair falling against my shoulder.“Is there anything you want to ask me?”
Slowly, he turns from the windows.Takes a drink of whiskey.
His head tilts slightly as he regards me.Watches me.Studies me.
The weight of his stare presses against my skin, heavy and deliberate.And I wrestle the urge to twitch, to fidget, because I feel exposed.Raw.Split open.All my ugliest bits laid bare for him to inspect and scrutinize.
How much does he know?What the hell was Dad doing with him all that time?What secrets did they share?How much does he fucking know?
A siren wails in my head, growing louder with every second he holds that knowing stare.Pressure builds.It climbs up my legs, coils in my gut like a bomb waiting to detonate.Until it surges upward and bursts out of me in a violent, white-hot explosion.
I’m on my feet, storming up to him, chest heaving.“What?”I shove him.“Fucking WHAT?!”
One corner of his mouth hikes into a slow, deliberate smile.“There she is.Soraya.”
Dammit.“What?”
“You went upstairs and came back down asRaya.The phony little liar who sneaked into my villa and conned her way into my heart.”His voice is low, even.“Why did you revert to that girl?Why hide?”
Damn you, Stefano.Damn you!
Why must he see me so clearly?Always peeling back the layers I’d rather keep buried?“How much do you know, Stefano?”
“How much do you want me to know?”
“Nothing.I want you to knownothing.Because I fucking love you, and I don’t want you to—”
He grabs the back of my neck and crashes his mouth to mine.Sweeps his tongue inside and ignites every nerve in a surge of heat, kissing me with fervor and fire and color and sound.
My heart staggers, sagging in relief before it swells and hammers hard against my ribs in a riotous rhythm of lust and excitement and arousal.
The sharp clink of his whiskey glass hitting the wooden table barely registers before he’s pressing me back against the wall, his body flush to mine.His hands slide up to cradle my face, and he kisses me deeper.With a fierce, borderline frantic desperation.
As if he can’t get close enough.As if kissing me is the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.
My chest rises and falls in ragged, shallow breaths, breasts straining against the fabric of my tank top as a moan slips from my throat, only to be swallowed by his relentless mouth.
His hands drift between us, the pads of his thumbs grazing over my nipples through the thin cotton.The lightest touch, but it sends a jolt of heat straight through me that makes me arch into him, desperate.
I want him.I need him.
But I can’t beg, not when he’s holding my mouth captive.Even as every fiber of me screams for more, I can’t form the words, because he won’t give me a chance.He’s still kissing me like it’s the last time he’ll ever have me.Like we’re on borrowed time and this is the only thing keeping us breathing.
My pussy throbs in anticipation as his hand slides lower and tugs at the strings of my shorts.Only then does he breaks, but only long enough to peel my shorts and panties down the length of my legs.
