Page 63 of Thorns of Love

“My dear husband, you’ve finally come back to your wife. I have missed you so much. I cooked and cleaned, filled my days with sewing and knitting, but nothing quite pleased me. I prayed and counted the days when my beloved would return home to me.” Her eyes flashed with the anger she hid under her pale blue gaze. “To the wife he knocked up.”

Jesus Christ.

She was pissed. And I was fucking rock-hard.

TWENTY-ONE

TATIANA

Illias’ eyes simmered with lust.

They were darker than midnight and despite my anger, my hormonal body responded. Yes, it was immature to blame it on my hormones but whatever.

“Isla go to your room,” he barked.

I glared at my husband, frustration bubbling in my chest. “Don’t talk to her that way.”

“It’s okay,” Isla assured. She looked mortified to have been caught by her brother shaking her ass.

“No, it’s not okay,” I snapped. “Newsflash. You’re a grown woman. He doesn’t get to tell you what to do. Especially when he’s the one with so many fucking secrets.”

Isla’s eyes darted from me to her brother then back to me. She didn’t know what I was talking about. But she was smart enough not to ask. She might have been sheltered, but she had good instincts and an excellent sense of self-preservation.

“Go to your room, Sestra,” Illias ordered. He was a picture of remorselessness. Shocking. The guy was used to getting what he wanted. “You and I will have a talk tomorrow about your fashion show at Enrico Marchetti’s venue.”

Both of us stilled, shock waves rolling through us. We shared a glance and I gave her a barely noticeable shake of the head. There was no sense in denying it. Whatever he found out, he was certain of what he learned. Hopefully, it was purely platonic information. Isla happened to be at the venue that was hosted in Marchetti’s building. That was a story I would stick to. Either way, it meant I’d have to expedite my plan.

I’d kidnap my sweet sister-in-law tonight. It’d be more subtle than my own kidnapping, but kidnapping nonetheless.

“Now, Isla,” he barked and she startled which earned him a glare from me. “To your room.”

She sent me a worried glance and I gave her a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, I have three bigger, scarier brothers than him,” I assured her. “Illias is like a big pussycat.”

A groan filled the space. “Don’t call me a pussycat, Wife.”

I shrugged. “If the shoe fits.”

Isla’s eyes darted between the two of us, unconvinced I could handle her brother. He was a force of a man. But she hadn’t met my brothers; otherwise, she’d have more faith in me. I could have all four of them for breakfast if I wanted to. Even if I had to resort to playing dirty.

“It’s okay,” I repeated. “I’ll check on you later. Grab two Advil before you go to bed.”

With a nod, she swayed on her feet as she left the room and headed upstairs. The moment the door clicked shut behind her, Illias was on me in one long stride.

My back hit the wall. His body pressed against mine. His hands grabbed my thighs as he forced them open. “You are wrong to compare me to your brothers,” he purred, too dangerously soft. “Because Tatiana, my angel, your brothers would never do this.”

In one swift move, his fingers slid inside my pants and under my panties. He pushed a finger inside me and a moan slipped through my lips. God, it felt so good having his body against mine. To have his thick finger inside me.

“Ah, moya luna,” he purred. “Your pussy missed me.”

I scoffed. “Don’t fool yourself.” He thrust his finger, followed by a second, into my clenching entrance. “You left without a fucking word,” I hissed, my tone breathy as he plunged in and out of my greedy sex. “I’m mad at you.”

He chuckled, his mouth skimming my cheeks. My jaw. My lips. “You can be mad at me while I’m eating your pussy.”

My mouth parted, but I couldn’t find it in me to deny him. Did it make me weak? Maybe. But fuck, if I wanted it too, why not take advantage of it. He slid his fingers knuckles deep inside me and my eyes grew half-lidded from desire.

My hips arched into his touch.