Page 25 of Revenge

I hide my wince. I knew that’s what he thought of me, but it still wounds me to hear him say it out loud.

“So, exactly who am I allowed to speak to on this yacht?” I demand.

Antonio hesitates. “No one. No one but me.”

I throw my hands in the air and start marching toward the sun deck. “That’s absurd. You are absolutely insane.”

“Don’t test me,” he warns, but I’ve already made up my mind.

I’m definitely about to call his bluff.

I stride up to a grouping of his men standing near the rails. He’s not going to throw his mafia soldiers overboard when I speak to them.

“Hi guys.” I try out my flirty voice. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” I touch the nearest guy on the shoulder and step close. “I’m Dahlia.”

“Get away from her,” Antonio barks.

In the next moment, I find myself flung over his shoulder. My short dress rides up to my waist, no doubt giving the men a view of my panty-clad ass. “Don’t look at her,” Antonio roars as he stomps away. My trunk swings behind his back.

Instead of taking me to our bedroom, he walks into one of the other staterooms–apparently an uninhabited one–and deposits me on the crisply-made queen-sized bed.

He towers over me, but rather than finding his large, imposing visage intimidating, I’m turned on by the cave-man display of possessiveness. My gaze tracks his large hands curled into fists at his sides, how good he looks, even in yesterday’s rumpled tuxedo.

“Clothing restriction.” Antonio’s voice is a choked growl, his dark brows slash down. He tugs my dress up over my head. He doesn’t hurt me, but his movements are rough and jerky.

Gone is the smooth, revenge-is-a-dish-served-cold man who ordered me about in cool, manicured tones last night.

This man feels more raw. More real.

I’m totally turned on. I’m also far more wary of him. I don’t want to anger the bull. I allow him to strip me of my bra and panties. I even kick off my sandals myself–a show of surrender.

Antonio stoops to pick up my dress, panties and bra. He points a finger at me. “I warned you.”

I scramble up off the bed, so I’m not in such a submissive position. I try to think of something clever to say in return, but nothing comes to mind.

As it turns out, I’m saved from answering because Antonio marches out of the room.

I stand there, naked, contemplating the situation.

Then I realize the solution is simple. Antonio doesn’t like me talking to other men, he doesn’t want them looking at my ass, and he took away my clothing.

He literally walked right into this one.

I stride to the door and pull it open. Then I strut out like I own the place.

Antonio

Oh, hell no.

I lurch forward at a dash when I catch sight of my fully naked bride and her fuck-hot body arriving on deck in full view of all of my men.

I was an idiot. I should have known she has more spunk than shame about her nudity.

I’m not sure my feet even touch the ground as I cross the deck to catch her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I pull her into the air, spin her around, and head for the master suite.

“You love punishment, don’t you, Principessa?” I murmur growl against the shell of her ear.

“Controlling you just became my number one pastime.”