Page 95 of Thorns of Death

Just like this woman did. Fuck, I was whipped. My throat tightened. Fuck! It was even worse. I loved this woman.

Fear filled my mouth with a bitter taste.

I could not allow this woman to die, the curse on my family be damned. She was mine. I’d make her love me and keep her with me until my dying breath.

This time around, a Marchetti man would die before the woman he loved did.

THIRTY-TWO

ISLA

The morning light blinded me even before I opened my eyelids.

Ignoring the day and responsibilities—I wasn’t even sure at this point what they were—I rolled to my side, burying my head under the pillow. A stinging pain exploded on my ass and my body was sore in places it had never been sore before.

Jesus Christ, was it possible to die from too much sex?

My core tingled, as if Enrico—Enzo Lucian, or whatever his name—were still inside me. Like he still drove into me with feral power, punishing and rewarding me at the same time.

A rough palm rubbed my ass, and I recognized the touch, causing hot blood to rush through my veins. In such a short period, I had come to crave his presence. The control and ruthlessness he emanated, as well as the carnal and feral power with which he fucked me.

God help me!

I wanted my husband’s savage brutality in the bedroom.

He squeezed my ass, the stinging flesh sending tingles through my entire body. “I know you’re awake.”

“Go away,” I muttered, my body craving him even now, despite the soreness.

Slap. Pain exploded across my ass. “Never tell your husband to go away.”

My eyes shot open, and I glared at him. “Ouch.”

Enrico sat on the edge of the bed, his hand never leaving my body. He was already dressed in his signature black suit, his jacket open, giving me a glimpse of his vest. Why did he look so goddamn hot in a suit? Although, not even that elegant three-piece suit could hide his hard muscles nor disguise his brutality.

“Get up, shower, and get dressed.”

“Marriage sucks,” I muttered, facing away from him.

He pulled me back so I’d face him, and I pursed my lips in annoyance. “What did you say?”

I smiled sweetly. “You heard me. Or has your hearing diminished with your old age?”

Fuck, that was a good comeback. One point for Isla.

He narrowed his eyes.

“Do you fancy a mouth fuck?” My thighs clenched and fire ignited through every cell of my body. Oh my freaking God! Someone needed to pour ice water over me and cool me off. “Because it seems to me you’re craving punishment again. And the only thing that will diminish my hearing,piccolina, are your screams while I fuck you.”

He smacked my ass to emphasize his words, but before I could yelp, his fingers started kneading the flesh, soothing the burn. “Now, do you want me to fuck your mouth, or will you behave?”

Hmmm.

Immediately, I mentally slapped myself to get some sanity back. “I’ll take a rain check on letting you fuck my mouth,” I muttered. Got to leave my options open, right? He had gone down on me, but I had yet to taste him. I’d hold on to all the power I could in thismarriage.

“Excellent,” he said, clearly not wanting my mouth on his dick. Challenge accepted. I’d make him crave it. He wrapped his strong arms around me and picked me up Neanderthal-style, throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me effortlessly into the bathroom.

“God, what is it with you manhandling me like I’m a sack of potatoes?” I muttered, smacking his back which resulted in him smacking my ass. “Jesus, stop touching my ass. I know you’re obsessed with it—it’s a cute ass—but come the fuck on. It’s sensitive from—”