I almost come.

Sliding my palm up his neck, I grip the dark wet strands and squeeze. Rafael’s cock twitches inside me. His body is so taut, every muscle straining. My God, he is beautiful like this.

“Yes.” I tilt my chin, nipping his lower lip. “How would I have gotten back to the mansion if you drowned?”

Another growl leaves his mouth, rough and feral. He retreats, then slams into me with such force that my mind totally blanks. His mouth captures mine again. Biting. Taking. My core trembles with a sensation of pleasure bordering on pain while he pounds me with fast, deep thrusts. His hand grips my ass, holding me steady, while wrecking me in the most visceral way. There isn’t a drop left of his previous self-control, as if my blatant lie has unleashed the beast.

“Mine,” he growls, biting my lower lip. “From the moment you swung that broken bottle at me, I knew you’d be mine.”

“I’m not yours,” I choke out, fighting for breath while kissing him back.

He trails his lips along my chin, then buries his face in the crook of my neck. “You smell like me.” His teeth graze the sensitive skin below my ear. “Taste like a mouthwatering dessert, custom-created to satiate every craving impulse of my DNA alone. Your flavor drives me crazy.”

Rafael slides out, then impales me with his cock again.

“Your sweet pussy trembles so beautifully with my dick inside you, asking for more. Do you want more, Vasilisa?”

“Yes . . .”

A deep, powerful thrust of his hips makes the water around us ripple. My trembling hands slip off his wet, rock-hard shoulders from the vibrations of that impact. I hook my arm around his neck and meet his feral stare. You are mine, it says. Just as his words did. Just like the telling warmth in my belly that’s threatening to consume me wholly. Just like my treacherous heart that’s yearning to reply, I’m yours. Like this is where I’ve always meant to be.

Dear God, I’m in love with him. I don’t know how or when it happened, but I’ve had these feelings for quite some time. Was it the sticky notes that did me in? Or those stolen figs he keeps leaving for me? No, I don’t think it was any single act. It’s the way he makes me feel every day—like I have finally found myself.

Rafael is pounding relentlessly into me again. A scream builds in my chest, wanting to be let out. I grit my teeth as hard as I can to keep it from escaping. Too afraid to confess the ecstasy I feel, even with mere lust-filled vocals. Wave after wave of pleasure surges over me, pushing me over the crest. I shakingly cling to Rafael, our gazes locked together, as I come right there, in the arms of my captor, surrounded by the glittering expanse of the warm glistening sea.

“That’s it, vespetta. I told you you’re mine.” With one final plunge, Rafael buries himself to the hilt and explodes inside me.

I close my eyes, relishing the feel of him. But also feeling guilty for enjoying the most intense pleasure I’ve ever experienced.

“Look. At. Me.” Brassy, growled words.

I shake my head. My God, what have I done?

“Now, Vasilisa.”

This man. A ruthless brute. One who threatened to kill my family. My parents. My baby brother and sister. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that he could do it, too, and more than likely, without blinking an eye. I know it. Just as I know that no other man will ever make me feel the same. The way he does. Like I’m surfing the gentlest currents, and at the same time, falling into the deepest abyss.

I can’t look at him.

I’m not ready to face the reality. To accept the irrevocable truth—that I am in love with Rafael De Santi.

A stream of fast-spoken Italian erupts from him. By the tone of his voice, curses, I’m sure. Water sloshes around me as Rafael climbs the ladder, carrying me onboard held up by only one of his arms.

“There are towels in the bathroom,” he grunts, putting me down onto something soft.

When I open my eyes, I find myself sitting on the sofa inside the salon on the main deck. Rafael stands before me, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths as he glares at me.

Without another word, he turns around and steps outside. A moment later, I hear his footfalls as he climbs the ladder to the flybridge, and shortly after, the yacht engines come to life.

The leather rim of the yacht’s steering wheel creaks from the force of my grip. For the past twenty minutes, I’ve barely kept a leash on my temper, barely prevented myself from storming down to the main deck—where Vasilisa has been hiding this whole time—and demanding an explanation.

The list of things I need her to explain is rather long. Starting with why the fuck did she act like a scared little guppy just moments after she so beautifully shattered in my arms. I didn’t expect cuddles, but I did fucking want her to look at me. She had no problem looking at my face before. Did having sex with me disgust her? Because of how I look? I wouldn’t be surprised if a beauty like her has only ever had pretty boys as lovers.

Red haze covers my eyes at the idea of other men who have been close enough to her to touch her. Who have touched her. I grit my teeth and squeeze the wheel harder. I’ll rip apart any man who’s ever put his hands on her in the past and any fucker who might think he has a chance to do it in the future. Vasilisa Petrova is mine. Mine! And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she wants to stay with me.

I’m steering the yacht back to the marina when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. A speedboat, anchored by the sea stack at the entrance to a cove, just up the coast from here. The Mediterranean might be in the public domain, but everyone in this part of Sicily knows that these waters are mine. So it’s either stupid tourists or my godfather’s men. No one else would be crazy enough to wander here.

I pilot the yacht to the dock and head to the starboard side to throw the marina boy the rope.

“Don’t tie it,” I bark. “I’m heading out again right away.”

The faint tapping of small bare feet sounds behind me. I turn around and find Vasilisa standing with the laptop bag in her hands, staring at the deck.

“I called Guido. He’s coming to drive you to the house.”

She looks up, her eyes finally meeting mine. “What about you?”

I don’t reply. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pick her up and, holding her to my side, leap onto the dock.

“Put some after-sun lotion on your face when you get back. You’ve got a bit of a sunburn.” I lower her to the ground and jump back on board the yacht.

The marina boy tosses the rope to me. I coil it neatly and, without bothering to look back at Vasilisa, climb up to the flybridge and start the boat, taking it out in reverse. I last about thirty seconds before I kill the engines and turn my eyes toward the marina.

Vasilisa is still on the dock, her hair fluttering in the wind. I can’t see her eyes from this distance, but she is looking in my direction. Standing several feet away, the marina boy is staring at her. I snap. Grabbing the phone from my pocket, I dial the salivating little shit.

“Signor De Santi?”

“Keep staring at my woman one second longer,” I snarl, “and I’ll turn back to gouge your eyes from your stupid head!”

“Of course, Signor De Santi,” he wheezes.

I cut the call and cross my arms over my chest, watching my little hacker. She enjoyed being fucked by me. There was no mistaking the sweet little sounds—the moans and whimpers—she made, or how her body trembled under my touch. The way she clung to me while I pumped into her. How beautifully she unraveled in my embrace. The problem developed only once we were done. After she realized she let the monster take her.

Well, I can’t change the way I look, but I will find a way to make her see past my appearance.

She flushed my check down the toilet. Threw my flowers away. She even refused the jewelry I bought for her. Maybe it wasn’t opulent enough? I should have known better and gotten her something more expensive. A mistake I won’t repeat. No matter how good-looking, no man can compete with my power and will. And none can provide for her the way I can. I need to make her understand that.

Her attention gets snagged by an approaching vehicle. Guido parks his sports car next to the path that leads to the dock. I keep my eyes on Vasilisa as she throws one last look in my direction, then walks up to Guido and his ride. Only after she’s safely inside my brother’s pride and joy do I turn on the engines and steer the yacht back toward the cove where I saw that suspicious boat.

No stars tonight. Just a tiny sliver of moonlight that had punched its way through the clouds, not even enough to illuminate the garden below the balcony. I can barely make out the shapes of a few olive trees in the distance and the oleander shrub next to the antique water pump at the edge of the lawn. Everything else is murky, just like my feelings. I tighten my hold on the massive bath towel wrapped around me while I run my hairbrush through my still-wet hair and sigh.

What am I going to do when Rafael comes home? He still isn’t back from whatever caused him to storm out on his yacht this afternoon, and I’ve been on pins and needles for hours. Can I pretend that nothing happened between us? I don’t think I can. Every time I close my eyes, I’m back in that water again, reliving every second of it. Reproaching myself for enjoying it too much. For wanting him.

“You’ll catch a cold, Vasilisa.”