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“And I take care of you,” he growled. “And no, he won’t go to the cops. I told him he wouldn’t want to mess with us. He knows we know where he lives. He’s got a pregnant wife and a two-year-old son. We have video footage of him harassing you. His father-in-law is a partner in the financial firm he’s working at. Can you imagine him losing his cushy job if his sleaziness comes to light? The wife might throw him out on his ass and clean him out in the divorce.”

“Oh my God.” I was caught between feeling outrage for the man’s family and awe at the calculating way my husband dealt with anyone who messed with me. No doubt if this Zachary guy was a mobster, he would have suffered the same fate as Gold Tooth and his cohorts.

“So don’t worry about how I handle scum who try to mess with you,” he said, coming closer again to me. “You should worry about yourself.”

My mouth went dry. “What do you mean? You said I was safe.”

His head lowered. “Not from me.”

My eyes widened.

“I’ve got this caged aggression in me, baby,” he growled.

“What aggression?” My breathing stuttered.

His mouth was millimeters from mine. The darkness in his eyes made me hot, and my nipples got sensitive under the fabric of my dress.

“Someone touched you and he’s still breathing.”

“That’s progress.”

“You’re keeping incidents like this from me.”

“Self-preservation.”

“Whose?”

“Everyone’s,” I whispered. I put a hand on his chest. He was hard and warm and his heart beat under my palm. I let out a shaky breath. “Let’s get rid of that aggression.”

“I can’t be gentle.” He bit my lower lip, and I yelped. He licked it and gave me a taste of copper.

“I never want you to be.”

The words scarcely left my lips when his hands went under my arms. He kicked the chairs out of the way, set my ass on the table, and moved between my legs. His erection was hard against my pussy and arousal flooded my core.

His mouth came down on mine. The desperation in his kiss spurred me to return his kisses in the same fervent way his tongue tangled with mine. The way his mouth couldn’t get deep enough. His fingers bunched the neckline of my dress and he ripped it to my waist, baring my breasts.

“You’re not wearing a bra underneath this?” he rasped.

“The dress has a built-in.”

He didn’t say anything else and dove for a nipple. I cried out at the assault, not knowing where all the sensations were coming from. He was devouring my breasts just as he pushed aside my panties and sank two fingers inside me without preparation. The brutal invasion stung, but I was so damn wet, the pumping of his fingers brought me to the edge.

“Almost there,” I moaned. I gripped his head and pushed him lower.

“I can smell your arousal,” was his savage reply.

“Sandro, dammit.” My heels dug into his shoulders, but as he dragged my ass closer to the edge of the table, he buried his head between my thighs.

His nose probed my pussy. He pushed the panties aside and his tongue dipped in. Up, down, nudging, biting, still keeping me from coming.

My hips squirmed. “Sandro…”

He stopped, looked up at me, and with his thumb, kept pressure on my clit. “Never keep things from me again.”

“I won’t. But…”

“Non-negotiable, Bianca.”