Page 58
Story: Scorned Obsession
When we got to the top of the staircase, I renewed my struggle, pounding on his back because he had the presence of mind to lock down my legs.
“Stop fighting,” he growled.
“You’re a bastard just like all of them.”
“Yes, but this bastard is your husband.”
“I’m sure Dad has drawn up the divorce papers.”
He pivoted into his room and dumped me on the bed. I lost my breath momentarily and found myself staring at the ceiling. When I heard the door slam, my gaze switched to the looming outline of Sandro stalking toward the bed. He was on me before I succeeded in scrambling off. His weight bore down and I hated how my body came alive.
I pushed against his shoulders. My hips squirmed against his, but I was feeling something very hard rubbing against my thigh.
I ignored the pulse of my arousal between my legs. I wasn’t giving in.
The sounds in the room were my grunts and his.
He grabbed my wrists and slammed them on either side of me. Somehow, he had wedged his hips between my legs, and when he adjusted, his erection rubbed right along the seam of my pussy.
My moan was loud in the room.
He froze. “Did you just come?”
I glared at him, indignation resonating loudly in my vehemence. “No!”
A corner of his mouth tipped up and he repeated the motion.
“Sandro, stop it!”
He raised a brow. “You’re saying no?”
I was too mad to have this go further and have me regret it later, so I gritted, “I’m saying no. Let me go.”
He immediately released my wrists. I expected him to be pissed, but there was a warm glint in his eyes and a proud look on his face. I remembered our conversation years ago about “no means no.” And with that memory, it reminded me there was still something I wanted to ask him.
“You got it.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “But you’ll have to sleep in my room.”
I exhaled a heavy breath. Of relief, a bit of disappointment. Gah! My feelings for Sandro were all over the place and he made it so hard to stay mad at him. “Fine. I don’t want Griselda having more ammunition to use against us.”
His face turned serious. “I don’t like that she’s still between us, baby. If anything about her bothers you, let me know immediately. I’ll take care of it.”
“No,” I said firmly. “I’ll take care of it. As long as you’ll have my back.”
“Always.”
Chapter
Fifteen
Sandro
Bianca emerged from the bathroom dressed in sleep shorts and my old tee. I could see the shadows of her nipples and I wondered what torture I’d consigned myself to for the night. I smelled her arousal earlier and I ached to bury my tongue between her legs.
But having her share my bed was enough. For now.
Bianca is mine. Those words snarled in my head over and over ever since I saw her in the study tonight, surrounded by Rossi soldiers and the blood of my family.
“Your turn.” She smiled shyly.
“Stop fighting,” he growled.
“You’re a bastard just like all of them.”
“Yes, but this bastard is your husband.”
“I’m sure Dad has drawn up the divorce papers.”
He pivoted into his room and dumped me on the bed. I lost my breath momentarily and found myself staring at the ceiling. When I heard the door slam, my gaze switched to the looming outline of Sandro stalking toward the bed. He was on me before I succeeded in scrambling off. His weight bore down and I hated how my body came alive.
I pushed against his shoulders. My hips squirmed against his, but I was feeling something very hard rubbing against my thigh.
I ignored the pulse of my arousal between my legs. I wasn’t giving in.
The sounds in the room were my grunts and his.
He grabbed my wrists and slammed them on either side of me. Somehow, he had wedged his hips between my legs, and when he adjusted, his erection rubbed right along the seam of my pussy.
My moan was loud in the room.
He froze. “Did you just come?”
I glared at him, indignation resonating loudly in my vehemence. “No!”
A corner of his mouth tipped up and he repeated the motion.
“Sandro, stop it!”
He raised a brow. “You’re saying no?”
I was too mad to have this go further and have me regret it later, so I gritted, “I’m saying no. Let me go.”
He immediately released my wrists. I expected him to be pissed, but there was a warm glint in his eyes and a proud look on his face. I remembered our conversation years ago about “no means no.” And with that memory, it reminded me there was still something I wanted to ask him.
“You got it.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “But you’ll have to sleep in my room.”
I exhaled a heavy breath. Of relief, a bit of disappointment. Gah! My feelings for Sandro were all over the place and he made it so hard to stay mad at him. “Fine. I don’t want Griselda having more ammunition to use against us.”
His face turned serious. “I don’t like that she’s still between us, baby. If anything about her bothers you, let me know immediately. I’ll take care of it.”
“No,” I said firmly. “I’ll take care of it. As long as you’ll have my back.”
“Always.”
Chapter
Fifteen
Sandro
Bianca emerged from the bathroom dressed in sleep shorts and my old tee. I could see the shadows of her nipples and I wondered what torture I’d consigned myself to for the night. I smelled her arousal earlier and I ached to bury my tongue between her legs.
But having her share my bed was enough. For now.
Bianca is mine. Those words snarled in my head over and over ever since I saw her in the study tonight, surrounded by Rossi soldiers and the blood of my family.
“Your turn.” She smiled shyly.
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