It was another early morning on a weekday, but unlike in the past, it was Lane who had trouble getting up and Angelo looking relaxed and disgustingly fit to conquer the world.
She didn’t understand it at all. Had she been making love to a robot the entire time? They had not left their bedroom yesterday at all, and she had paid the price for it this morning.
Every muscle in her body had protested when she trudged her way to the shower, and descending the stairs had been pure torture. Her legs shook so badly she found herself clutching the handrail while she took the steps one at a time.
Standing up the moment Lane entered the dining room, Angelo took one look at the way she was practically limping towards the table and laughed.
“It’s not funny,” she protested.
“It’s not,” he agreed solemnly as he strode towards her. Making her squeal in surprise as he suddenly scooped her up, he carried her the rest of the way, murmuring, “Actually, seeing you in pain and knowing it’s because I fucked you hard—-”
Her face flamed. “Angelo!”
“It just makes me want you more.”
What?
No!
She had classes today!
She automatically tried to wriggle out of his hold, but he only laughed, his arms tightening around her. Taking his seat, he kept her on his lap, asking, “Will you be comfortable here?”
She shook her head vehemently.
He set her down on the chair in his right with evident reluctance.
A server came forward right away, serving her with a plate of freshly made waffles. She was about to take a bite when she saw Angelo staring at her.
“Umm...w-what is it?” Oh my gosh, those silvery eyes would kill her. The way he was looking at her now, and knowing that he loved her—-
She resisted the urge to fan herself.
Angelo was still staring.
“Is s-something on my face?”
He nodded.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“My kiss.” And he promptly took her mouth with his, the kiss unashamedly deep and passionate.
Oh my gosh!
She tried pushing him away, conscious of the fact that they had staff with them, but this only made Angelo drive his tongue further inside her mouth.
Oh...gosh.
When Angelo finally lifted his head, she didn’t even remember why she had wanted to risk.
He smiled at her.
She smiled at him.
“Best dessert I’ve tasted in a long time, my Lane,” he whispered.
Oh! She could only gulp, unable to think of anything coherent to say to him.
Still facing her, he leaned back against his seat and took a sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving Lane.
She asked nervously, “A-are you done with breakfast?”
“Yes.”
He was still staring, and she protested, “I c-can’t eat if you’re going to be looking at me the whole time.”
“I’m sorry,” Angelo apologized readily. “Let me rectify that.”
Huh?”
“I’ll feed you, tesoro.”
What?
“Say ‘aah.’”
She automatically opened her mouth and said ‘ah,’ and in went a slice of waffle, coated with honey and with chunks of strawberry mixed in.
His smile widened. “Good girl.”
She smiled back weakly. Did she really think Angelo would change now that he loved her? He was still sadistic as ever, only this time he was bent on torturing her with an overload of sweetness.
While chewing on her waffle, Lane hesitantly asked him for an update about his case against Margarita.
His face became grim. “Not going as well as I hoped.”
Her brows furrowed. “Does she want more money?”
He said with visible reluctance, “No.”
Lane was surprised. “Then what?”
“She has a personal vendetta against me, tesoro,” he said finally. “Money no longer means anything to her.”
Oh.
“Then what does she want?”
He said dryly, “Your heart on a platter.”
She gasped.
“Barring that, my body in her—-”
She said quickly, “My heart is hers.”
He smiled. “I thought you’d say that.” He kissed her hair, murmuring, “Which is why I’m paying my legal team thousands of dollars to keep her from troubling us.”
When it was time for her to leave for uni, she said shyly, “Goodbye.” And this time, Lane knew better not to leave without kissing him. Getting to her feet, she bent towards to place a chaste kiss on his lips.
She half-expected him to protest and kiss her deeper-—
If she was being her honest masochistic self, she was hoping he would do that.
But nothing happened.
She straightened slowly.
Angelo only smiled when their gazes met.
Okaaaaay. She blurted out, “You’re not mad?”
“Why should I be?” He waved a languidly dismissive hand as he spoke, and the staff, understanding the silent command, turned away poker-faced. They started smirking the moment they stepped out of the dining room.
Poor naïve signorina.
“I see.” She bit her lip.
“You want to say something, tesoro?”
“Y-you’re not even going to punish me?”
He raised a brow. “I don’t see why I should.” He paused. “Unless you want me to?”
His sly gaze making her red, she lied, “No, of course not.”
“Are you sure?”
“I...I...”
“Because I could be persuaded...” He suddenly tugged her close, and as she tumbled against him, Angelo murmured in her ear, “Very easily.”