Too shocked to retort, I unwittingly did as he said.
“I’m saying I wouldn’t have created that contract in the first place. But to be fair, your father agreed. Remember that.”
“My father didn’t have a choice.”
“He should have been willing to die…” he paused and leaned forward, anger marking his words, an anger I did not expect. “He should have been willing to die rather than see you go through what you did.”
That last part made me stop.
“He did die.” But Salvatore was right. And that was why I’d been so angry with my father all these years. Why I refused to see him. He’d given me up without a fight. Salvatore was right. How could he stand by and watch what they did? How could he have offered his daughter to the Benedetti beasts?
“I don’t want to upset you, Lucia.”
I wiped the back of my hand across my face, catching the single tear that had slipped from my eye. I shook my head, not wanting to speak for fear I would weep. It would be easier if he were unkind. Damn him, it would be easier.
“All I’m saying is I wouldn’t have done what my father did. I would not have required the innocent daughter of my enemy as payment.”
Fuck.
I swallowed back tears, knowing he saw right through me all along.
“But we’re here now. You and I are both here, and bound to one another. I don’t want a prisoner. I don’t want someone who fears or hates me in my own house.”
“Then I don’t understand. Why do you care what I think? I’m your enemy, and you’ve won. My presence here is proof of that. To your power over me and my family.”
“I’m not a monster, whether you believe it or not.”
“What do you want from me, then?”
“I’ve already told you: your obedience. You give me that, and I’ll make this easier.”
Obedience. I hated that fucking word. “And if I don’t, you’ll punish me like you did before.”
“I’ll be creative in my punishments, yes,” he said with a wicked gleam in his eye.
Goose bumps made the hairs on my arms stand on end, and my mind wandered to the restraints attached to the posts of his bed. Would he use those? Was that getting creative?
Salvatore reached out to softly touch my knee. My mind screamed for me to pull away, but instead, I looked from his eyes to his hand. I swallowed as he stroked the inside of my knee, then my thigh, pushing the dress up as he did so.
“I think you enjoyed at least part of your punishment.”
I shook my head, just a small “no,” but kept my eyes on his hand, on his fingers as they drew small circles on too sensitive flesh.
He slid toward me, making me look up, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“And it doesn’t always have to be punishment.”
His fingers left my thigh and touched the top button of my blouse. I watched in silence, unable to speak. He slowly undid the buttons and pulled my top open.
“Look at me.”
I did, my breath hitching when I met those cobalt eyes. With both hands, he slid the blouse from my shoulders, leaving it at my elbows. He then explored my exposed chest, my nipples tightening just from his gaze upon them, barely hidden behind the white lace.
Bringing his face to mine, he inhaled, his mouth close to mine, so close, but not touching. He kissed my cheek softly, making my stomach flutter, his breath on my face making my sex throb.
“I can make this good,” he whispered by my ear. “I want to make this good for you.”
When his fingers traced the border of my bra, I licked my lips, wanting him to kiss me, preparing for him to kiss me. He could make this so good. I knew. I knew how good he could make it.
His fingers slid inside my bra as his mouth neared mine again. This time, I tilted my face upward to meet his and reached a trembling hand to touch the naked muscle of his arm. His kiss was soft, slow, tender almost as his fingers tickled my nipple. But then it changed, building in heat and intensity as one hand cradled the back of my head, and my mouth opened to his tongue, my entire body arching up to meet him, wanting—needing—something more.
“But only good girls are rewarded,” he said, his mouth at my ear again, me breathless, blinking up at him as he pulled back. “Bad girls are punished. Have you been bad, Lucia?”
His eyes seemed to dance, and I knew in that instant he knew.
I straightened, trying to tug my shirt up to cover myself.
Salvatore shook his head and smiled, cocking his head to the side. “Tell me, have you?”
“No,” I said, my voice cracking.
He reached over, and I gasped when he pushed the cups of my bra beneath my breasts.
“Wh…what are you doing?” I moved to cover them.