Twisted Loyalties (The Camorra Chronicles Book 1) by Cora Reilly

Author:Cora Reilly [Reilly, Cora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-30T16:00:00+00:00

Goose bumps flashed across Leona’s smooth skin and the outline of her erect nipples strained against the thin fabric of her bra. My cock hardened at the tantalizing sight. Fuck. I wanted her, wanted to posses her. I ran my fingers over her ribcage, then up to the edge of her bra. It wasn’t spectacular, nothing pricy made from lace or silk, and yet she made it seem like the sexiest garment in the world. Her body tensed under my touch, not with eagerness. I regarded her face, her closed eyes, the way she was biting down on her lower lip and her lashes were fluttering. She was nervous and scared. I wondered what had her feeling that way. I definitely hadn’t given her reason to be scared of me, which was surprising in itself. I leaned down to her ear. “Have you ever been with a man?”

I knew the answer. I was too good at reading body language and people in general not to know, but I wanted to hear it. I was fucking eager to have her admit it.

She shuddered, and gave a small shake of her head.

“Say it,” I ordered.

Her eyelashes fluttered open. “No. I haven’t been with a man.”

I kissed her throat. “So I will be your first.” My cock twitched in eagerness.

“I won’t sleep with you tonight, Fabiano,” she whispered.

I straightened, stunned by the words. Her expression showed mostly resolve but there was a flicker of uncertainty as well. “I’m not used to waiting. For anything.”

She didn’t move away from me, her back still pressed against my chest, my fingers still on her ribcage. It heaved under my touch. One deep breath and her spine straightened. “Some things are worth waiting for.”

“And you are one of them?” I asked.

She looked away, out toward the city lights. Her lashes fluttered again, but this time to keep the tears contained in her eyes. “I don’t know.”

The words were so quiet, the wind almost carried them off before they reached my ears.

For a moment I felt like smashing the world, like burning down everything. I wanted to go after her father and see the life drain from his veins slowly. I wanted to find her mother, and cut her throat, see her sputter on her own blood. These emotions were foreign, not because of their brutality or fierceness, but because they were on behalf of a woman. I’d had bouts of protectiveness when I was younger, toward my sisters; before they’d left me and before I’d become the man I was today.

I traced my fingers down her ribs, then slid my arms around her stomach. She shivered. “Let’s go inside, you are cold.”

Her eyes searched mine, curiously, hopefully. When she didn’t find what she was looking for, she nodded slowly and let me lead her inside. The wonder returned to her expression as she took in the living area. I’d spent most of my life in luxury, had taken it for granted most of the time, until it had been ripped from me.

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