Her eyelids are half-closed, her fingers curled into a fist on my stomach. I can feel the gold pendant, warmed by her heat, pressed to my skin. Possessiveness courses through me. She’s mine. To protect, to fuck.
To keep.
Lena is mine and no homicidal asshole is going to stop us from having a life together.
She’s drifted to sleep, her breathing soft and even. She’s wrapped her leg over my hip and I draw it closer, ignoring the rush of blood to my dick when I feel the sweet rub of her pussy against my side.
I want a lifetime of this. Of her.
If only I knew how the hell to keep us alive long enough to have it.
29
LENA
His side of the bed is warm but empty. I huff out in frustration, tangled pieces of hair dancing off my face.
That man.
We had sex again during the night. I don’t know who reached for who first, but dawn was breaking behind the bedroom blinds as Rem filled me from behind. His lips on the nape of my neck, one hand buried in my hair as he stroked me between the legs with the other. His thrusts were slow, possessive. So deep I swear I could feel them nudging my heart.
He fucked me thoroughly and made love to me until tears slipped down my cheeks.
The memory makes my skin tingle and my core clench. Even now I can feel him there, the way he stretched me, claimed me. Made me come so hard I damn near passed out. He imprinted himself on me in a way I know I’ll never forget.
As if I could ever forget Rem. That truth is a tight band around my chest, gripping me as firmly as he did while we slept.
This might’ve started as a fake marriage, a protection racket,but now we’re in the thick of some really real, really big feelings.
I swing my legs out of bed, trying to ignore the heavy thump of my pulse as I pull on one of Rem’s t-shirts. The instant the soft fabric hits my skin, his scent embraces me. Lovesick idiot that I am, I inhale deep, holding my breath and craving contact with his body.
“Fuuuuck.” I shake my head, even as a smile plays on my lips. “You are in so much trouble, Lena Cosenza. You are head over heels in love with your husband.” Married to a mafia boss.
Crazy in love with a man I’ve only known for little more than a week.
Hunted by people determined to see me dead.
Look at me, just living the dream.
A manic giggle escapes and I clamp a hand over my mouth. Maybe it’s a good thing Rem isn’t here to see me have a nervous breakdown.
Maybe I’d better stop thinking about all this until I’ve had some coffee.
I grab a pair of fuzzy socks from my closet and, wearing nothing but that and Rem’s t-shirt, I make my way to the kitchen, keeping an eye out for him along the way. The scent of coffee hits me as I step into the open floor plan of the penthouse’s central space. Rem is at the far side of the room, doing something at the kitchen counter, his back to me. My smile returns in full force when I see him filling two cups with coffee.
“If you tell me there’s bacon too, I might start thinking you’re perfect.”
“My brother perfect? That’s a fucking first.” The man turns, and my smile drops. It isn’t Rem.
I step back as I fold my arms over my chest, hiding my braless boobs from the stranger in the kitchen. He’s tall, his build similar to Rem’s. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, dark hair, cut jaw. Olive-toned skin scattered with cuts and bruises,like those my husband got in yesterday’s explosion. But where I’ve figured out how to read Rem’s expressions, this man is a total blank. He’s watching me as he sips from his mug, one hip propped against the counter, entirely at ease in my husband’s house.
He might look relaxed, but as his eyes run from my wicked bedhead to the tips of my toes, I get the sense he’s assessing me like a predator does his prey. One false move and he’ll go for the kill.
“So, you must be my new sister.” There’s no warmth, no welcome to the statement. Just toneless fact.
“Ari.”
“In the flesh.” Rem’s brother steps forward. I retreat before I can stop myself. “What, no hug for your big brother? Not very friendly. It’s almost like you forgot to invite me to the wedding.”