Page 38 of Savage Vows

“Who, Alessia?”

I don’t have to answer for him to guess the truth.

“We were engaged at the time.” He takes a step toward me.

“That’s untrue.” Frantically I shake my head. “I never agreed to anything. Our families made the arrangement, and I was never consulted. And I don’t like being told what to do. Certainly not by my father and definitely not by you.”

“You were promised to me.” His contradiction is as swift as it is cold. “The fact you refused to come home or answer my messages changes nothing.”

Is my future, my autonomy, irrelevant?

Before I can say anything else, he takes a step toward me. “Keep arguing, Alessia. I’m happy to add more strokes to your punishment.”

His words make me even needier.

He’s a lethal man with a ridiculous moral code. He’s beyond gray. And yet that knowledge gives me the power to stand my ground.

Duty and family come first.

In his mind, we’re engaged, and his ring is on my hand. To him, we are probably already married. And because he’s the kind of man he is, he will be considerate of me. Maybe not kind to me, but he won’t mistreat me. Watching him interact with his mother confirmed that for me. He was respectful and loving. Deep down, he believes women are to be protected and nurtured.

That doesn’t mean he is a pushover with me. But I know he will never physically harm me.

“In the living room, Alessia.”

I lick my lower lip. I’m so very aware of my vulnerability. He’s still dressed, and he’s large, intimidating.

“Move it.” The words are clipped. “Unless you want me to throw you over my shoulder again?”

His threat galvanizes me. His shoulder had dug into me in a way that was more painful than uncomfortable.

Pivoting away from him, I walk to the living room, my heels echoing off the rich, dark oak flooring.

Near the fireplace, I stop and face him. The air is chilled, keeping my nipples hard and sending goose bumps chasing up my arms.

Matteo removes his cufflinks and tosses them on a nearby end table. Emeralds in the gold sparkle beneath the overhead lights.

Mesmerized, I watch as he rolls up his sleeves, exposing his corded forearms. Every movement is controlled and deliberate, stretching my nerves tighter and tighter.

“I want you on the coffee table, on all fours.” His tone holds a note of implacability.

I hesitate, my heart thumping as if I’m a wild animal caught in a trap. I should run, but the dark promise in his eyes keeps me rooted in place.

“Alessia …”

Hardly able to think, my motions mechanical, I follow his instructions.

“Your sweet ass faced toward me.”

Awkwardly I move.

“Good girl.” His voice holds a purr of approval that I could mainline. “Now place your forehead on the wood. I want to see a beautiful arch to your back.”

Which will also thrust my rear toward him more.

Forcing out a breath as I try to steady myself, I do as he says.

“God, Alessia.” His strides echoing with confidence, he closes the distance between us.