Page 34

HADLEY

He stares at me, and I feel as transparent as glass. It’s like he can see right through me.

“Hadley,” he says in a gravelly voice, sounding more like a plea than anything. It raises goosebumps on my flesh, and steals the breath from my lungs.

“Come here, little lamb.”

I rise from my chair, heart pounding in my chest, as I walk around the four empty chairs to him. Never taking his eyes from mine, he moves his chair back, and pulls me onto his lap.

“You were an annoying little shit,” he growls, as he wraps his arms around my back, holding me close to him.

“I still am,” I breathe.

It feels like a million years ago, when I had a wild crush on him. Never did I imagine, back then, as mean as he was to me, that, in the future, he’d do the things to me he has.

“I’m still mad at you. And I don’t understand why you did it. I ask for you to let me go, and you respond by tattooing me against my will?”

He runs his tongue over his lower lip, as he stares at mine like he’s imagining the taste.

“I’m a bad guy, little lamb. A really bad fucking guy. The reason why I didn’t sell you isn’t so you could go free. It was because I wanted to keep you all to myself. You belong to me.”

The deep rumble of his voice sends shivers down my spine, his tone laced with possession, his gaze heated and intense.

“Massimo,” I whimper, as he kisses the skin below my ear.

“Fuck,” he says with a groan, as he sinks his teeth into my flesh.

“I wanted to break you, ruin you, make you want to die, and then watch the blood drain from your body. Now, I just want to be inside you. If you’re the poisonous apple, I want to devour you. If you’re my undoing, I welcome it. You can be angry with me, little lamb. As long as you scream my name.”

He rips the robe open, and drops his gaze to my breasts. Leaning forward, he strokes his thumb over my nipple, causing me to yelp in pain. They are tender to his touch, but when he swipes his tongue over my nipple, somehow it eases the discomfort, and turns to pain mixed with pleasure. The moan that slips out of me is louder than it should’ve been, and slightly embarrassing.

Pushing the robe over my shoulders, he runs his hands up my thighs until they sit under my ass, and he rises from the chair, carrying me back upstairs to his bedroom. Lying me down on the bed, his gaze swallows me, as he removes his shirt.

“What? I told you, you had no right.”

Tilting his head with a smirk, he chuckles soft and low.

“I tattooed you. Pierced you. I’ll mark you in any way I deem necessary, because you belong to me. And…”

He drops his shirt to the floor, and I swallow hard, as I take in every ink-covered muscle. If I were standing, I know my legs would be shaky.

“I want to feel you come for me. I want to watch you bleed. I want to hear you scream.”

Massimo removes his pants, along with his boxers, and my gaze instantly drops between his legs. His cock is heavy, thick, and causes a gasp to slip out of me.

Forcing my eyes back to his face, I say, “No cutting, unless I can cut you.”

I know he’s the one in control, and if he wants to slice my flesh, he will.

Tilting his head to the side, he appears to be deciding how he wants to play this.

Bending down, he grabs his pants, pulls the knife from his sheath, and grins at me. It’s not a smile exactly, it’s dark and devious.

He climbs onto the bed, and I spread my legs. Placing the knife beside my arm, he hovers over me, a hand on either side of me, as he stares into my eyes with so much heat my clit pulses. The way he looks at me might be enough to make me come.

“I have rules with blood play, little lamb. If you make me bleed, you’ll caress the ache with your tongue. You’ll consume my blood. Are you prepared to do that?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

“So fucking perfect.”

Lifting onto his knees, he picks up the knife and hands it to me.

“Do not try to kill me. It will not end well.”

I swallow hard at his threat, and shake my head.

“I wouldn’t.”

He rolls over onto his back, and motions for me to come closer. I straddle his hips, his hard cock underneath me, causing me to moan lightly.

“A muscular area is best. Avoid the forearm and neck.”

My hand shakes slightly as I grip the knife.

“Are you sure about this? Have you done this before?”

He places his hand over mine, steadying the tremble.

“I’ve been stabbed, but not like this. Don’t cut too deep, and I’ll be fine. Make me bleed for you, little lamb.”