Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
“Surrender to me, my ballerina,” he says as he sinks deeper into me. His words are messy with reckless emotion, and it’s enough to send me straight over the edge.
My body erupts into a fit of convulsions that cascade over me in waves. The sweeping gratification causes me to clench my teeth and dig my nails into the back of Vincent’s shoulders. In response, he explodes within me. Every muscle in his body shakes as a low groan escapes his mouth, and he tries not to collapse his weight over me.
We stay like this, frozen as if bound by an invisible force, as we both try to catch our breath. We’re both hesitant to separate; honestly, I’m not ready. I don’t want Vincent to get up and leave now that it’s over. I don’t want it to be over at all. The more that Vincent owns my body, the more my soul unravels for him.
When he goes to slide off of me, I don’t let go. I don’t know what comes over me, but tears fill my eyes and roll down the sides of my cheeks onto the pillow beneath me.
“Don’t leave,” I say to him in a whispered plea. “Please.”
Vincent lifts a hand to my cheek and wipes the tears away. I’m overcome with emotion and struggle to read how he’s feeling in this moment. He lies down beside me on the bed and pulls me against him. When I lay my head against his chest, he turns his face toward me and plants a soft kiss against my temple. It’s a stark juxtaposition of gentleness that contrasts with the unruly encounter we just shared.
“Do you hear that?” he asks quietly.
I stay silent and listen. The only thing I can hear is the pounding of his heart. It’s steady, strong, and loud.
“That is the sound of me being here with you,” he says. “I’m not leaving, Isla, and neither are you.”
I fall asleep to that steady sound, with Vincent gripping me in his arms. When I wake up in the morning, he’s there, gazing at me with open eyes once more.
“Do you ever sleep?” I ask, half-teasing and half serious.
“Not really, no.” He slides me carefully off his chest and leans up onto his forearm to hover over me. His hand sweeps my hair away from the side of my neck before he bends down to kiss me there. But instead of a kiss, Vincent bites me.
It doesn’t hurt, not too much anyway. Mostly, it just surprises me, and I let out a sharp exhale in response to the dull pain. When he lifts his head again, he looks at his mark and smiles with satisfaction.
“It didn’t break the skin,” he says as if he’s proud of his work. “But it will leave a mark, a bruise that will let everyone in the world know that you are mine.”
“A bruise will fade in time,” I say.
“True,” he grins as he glances at the myriad of ink comprising the sleeve on his arm. “Perhaps we’ll need to find a more permanent solution, eventually. But for now, this will do.”
I reach my fingers up to touch the side of my neck where the dull throbbing remains. I can feel the welt forming there, just to the side of my jaw, below the tattoo of my little sparrow. Vincent was deliberate in its highly visible placement. I can only imagine the dark purple contusion that I’ll see when I look in the mirror today.
“I own you now, my little ballerina,” Vincent says before putting his mouth over mine and pushing his tongue past my lips. “I own you.”
His words fall into my mouth, and I catch them with my tongue. Kissing him is a delirium that I don’t want to stop. Something changed between us, making us unrecognizable to everyone except each other. It’s a sort of awakening that stirs within me now, one that is no longer filled with trepidation but with requisite and covetous yearning that consumes me whole.
I know exactly who Vincent Moretti is now. Also, how dangerous it is to be at his side and in his bed. I know what he is capable of—both extreme cruelty and unexpected affection. I say nothing in response to his claim of ownership over me, but my pounding heart says yes.
CHAPTER 14
VINCENT
“Adate?” Isla asks in surprise.
“Yes,” I say, smiling despite myself. “I want to take you on a date.”
I never imagined uttering those words, especially not to Isla Hart. Previously, when I desired a woman, I would simply take her for a night in my bed to fulfill my needs and then have her escorted out the next morning. I’ve always treated women with a baseline of respect, something that my mother instilled in me from a young age. Any woman who has shared my bed in the past has experienced fine dining and a pleasurable night. But I’ve never let any of them in, not inside my heart anyway, only into my bed. Usually, it’s a one-night hotel tryst followed by one of my men getting them breakfast and a new outfit or marvelous piece of jewelry. Then, I usually never hear from them again because that’s the way I’ve always wanted it.