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I give a mere shrug and a faint smile. “It’s your house,” I say. If he wants to come into my room, nothing will stop him.

“Listen, I know you may have said what you did to get out from under your brother’s hold. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like, but I’m not going to force you to move to Russia,” he says.

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Good, because I’d have to slug you if you planned on us moving anywhere outside of the country.”

“Even Italy?”

“Tell me you’re joking.” I don’t have it in me to kid around about moving to a foreign country after the crap Luka and Mikhail put me through recently.

Antonio offers a warm smile. “Can I come in?” he asks again.

“Yeah, sure,” I say and step farther into my bedroom, shuffling toward the bed.

Antonio follows behind me and closes the door. “Listen, I meant what I said to your brother. I would like us to be a proper family.”

“Proper? Who are you, and what have you done with the man who kidnapped me?”

He doesn’t so much as crack a grin.

“Bad joke?” I say and chew on my bottom lip. I plop down onto the edge of the mattress at the bottom of the bed. The anger I harbored for Antonio has begun to fade. There’s no resentment for what he did, kidnapping us.

Antonio approaches and comes to stand over me, hovering, looming. He has the uncanny ability to make my stomach flop.

I suck in a nervous breath and pray he doesn’t notice. My heart hammers in my chest. He’s the only one with the ability to render me speechless.

“Bringing you here the first time, it was to protect you,” he says. He leans closer, and his hand guides my chin up so that I stare into his gaze. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

That’s the least of what he’s done, and I open my mouth to retaliate, but his lips are on mine the moment I do.

The kiss is hot, passionate, and fierce.

Antonio is strong, and the magnetism between us is forceful.

One kiss leads to two, and I’m clutching him against me, pulling him down onto the bed. I’ve never felt so needy or desperate in my life.

Maybe I do love him? I certainly desire him, and I love the feelings he stirs inside me. Even in anger, there’s a heated intensity that never fades out.

“I shouldn’t have left,” I say. I’m not an idiot. I knew there were risks involved with returning to the bratva’s compound. I’d been naïve in hoping that my brother would let the past be forgotten.

And worse, I’d put Antonio’s life in danger.

He rests his forehead against mine, capturing my lips in another searing kiss before laying me on my back. With ease, he guides me up to the head of the bed before straddling me, pinning me beneath him.

Already, I feel the bulge in his pants, his desire burning for me.

His eyes are dark. A deeper and richer hue of chocolate that melts my insides as he grinds into me.

Fuck.

He’s going to let me die a slow and sensual death.

I want to feel him, touch him, taste every inch of his body. My fingers trail along his arms, and he grabs my wrists, pinning me forcefully onto the mattress.

“You’re mine,” he growls. “I get to do what I please with you.”

A shudder courses through my body.

The one night we shared years ago wasn’t quite like this, but I hate to admit I’m dying inside, aching to explore his body. The way he talks dirty makes me so easily come undone.


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