Of volume lineage

“Look at me, Isabella.”

A muscle in my jaw twitched at the command.

“Now, Isabella.”

I didn’t move.

Giova

He let go of me, before tipping his head back and finishing his drink. Then with a powerful move, he smashed his tumbler, the shards of glass scattering over the table and onto the floor.

I gasped. “What the hell, Giova

He spared me a glance before plucking a large shard of glass from the pile. It was the shape of a shark fin.

“Put your wine down.”

My fingers tightened around the stem.

“I’m not going to tell you again, Isabella.”

I was shaking slightly but I did as he told me. I wish I could say it was fear that made me jolt and shiver, but my body wouldn’t let me forget the real reason. My thighs pressed together.

“Are you going to hurt me?” I asked, voice barely louder than a whisper.

Giova

“Or?”

Something hungry and dangerous flickered in his pupils. “Or you can take off your panties and spread your legs for me.”

Adrenaline thrummed through my veins. It was hard to breathe, to think. But it was instinct that drove my shaky hands under my skirt and caught my panties. I pulled them down, wiggling and blushing, but Giova

He held his palm out.

“You…you want my…?”

“Give them to me.”

“Bossy.” I gave them to him anyway.

Cold air brushed up against me and I shuddered with vulnerability. I had done some rebellious things in my life, but I had never been in public without underwear. My little Catholic soul hadn’t even considered it.

But now, here I was, panty-less, at the command of my archnemesis.

“Spread your legs.”

I gulped but peeled my thighs apart.

Giova

I thought he was going to kiss me but instead of the press of his lips, a sharp stinging erupted on my cheek. Giova

“Does that hurt, Isabella?” He crooned.

It stung but it didn’t hurt. I shook my head.

“Say it.”

“N-no,” I forced out, my voice faltering as heat rose within me.

“No?” Giova

I swallowed loudly. Admitting the truth felt like I was peeling off a piece of my skin and exposing my insides to him. Being vulnerable in front of a man like Giova

“Isabella,” he warned, eyes flashing dangerously. His thumb pressed down on my pulse, which was no doubt flickering at a rapid speed. “Tell me or I’ll leave your little wet pussy aching and sore. Is that what you want?”

My chest rose and fell, thoughts growing blurry and yet sharpening. I nodded. Damn it all to hell, but I did like the feel of Giova

The corner of his lips twitched. “Was that so hard to admit?”

“Yes,” I forced out.

“Prideful girl,” he said. “I’m going to enjoy hearing you scream out my name, Isabella. I’m going to enjoy having the Lombardi principessa beg for my bastard cock.”

I grinded my molars together. “I won’t beg.”

“Oh, you will.” His grip tightened around my oesophagus. “If you want me to give you what you ache for, you will beg.”

Before I could deny it, his hands dropped to my breasts. My nipples tightened with pleasure, visible through the tight fabric.

Giova

He rubbed his thumb over my nipple, giving it a squeeze.

My lips parted on their own accord and a surprised moan escaped me.

Giova

“Is this the place you want me to take the blood I was owed?” he asked. “Or should I go lower?”

There was no way I was answering. Even if I wanted to, the cloud of lust that had taken over my brain made the world too hazy to create full sentences.

I reached out to touch him, to feel him, but Giova

The lusty fog cleared just long enough for me to whisper, “Why can’t I touch you?”

“No questions.”

I scowled, opening my mouth to argue, when Giova

With a quick movement, he brought the shard down, cutting my skirt from below my belly button to the hem. It split open, revealing my exposed olive skin and dark curls.

“I like this dress,” I hissed but there was no venom in my voice.

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

Giova

A strange faraway thought noted; Harry Gruenfield hadn’t looked at me like he was going to eat me alive.

Giova

My cheeks heated and I went to close my legs, but his arm snapped out, pi

“Don’t move,” he commanded, voice guttural.

Giova

“Giova

He met my gaze. “Do you touch yourself like this beneath the covers in the dark?” he inquired. “Or…is it more like this?” He caught my clit between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a pinch.

The pain and pleasure crashed into each other, and I let out a soft whimper.

“I didn’t know my wife was so greedy.” Giova