Page 36 of Jealous Vows

Sienna is my first.She’ll be my last.I never want to lie in bed alone ever again.

Her stomach growls once more.Even in the worst days of my life where food was scarce, I never reached the stage where I could ignore my hunger.The magnitude of her suffering strikes me anew.

What the fuck kind of torture hasmia bambolinabeen enduring?

It’s no wonder she rarely flinched while going toe-to-toe with a hardened mafia man.

I tighten my arms around her and crane my neck to nuzzle her hair.She whimpers and digs her nails into my back.

Her breathing stutters.She flinches.

I loosen my hold and rub her back.

Tears pool on my chest.I growl and cup the back of her head.

She pops awake.I brace for an outburst, but she remains statue-still for several seconds before relaxing.

Her reaction astounds me.There were entire years after Gran rescued us where Alan and I had to wake the other up for work—we were too poor for an alarm clock, much less a cell phone—and each time resulted in destruction and bloodshed before we calmed.

“Are you okay,bambolina?”

She draws in a shaky breath and relaxes further.

“I’m awake,” she whispers.

I growl and push her chin up with my thumb.Her tears smear along my skin.

“That’s not what I asked,” I demand.

Her lashes brush against the bare flesh of my arm as she blinks.

“I’m notthatawake,” she grumbles.

The band of worry squeezing my chest relaxes at her sassy response.

“Good.You won’t fight this, then,” I rumble.

Her brows scrunch.I tip her head back further and bend until our lips touch.With as much patience as I can muster, I brush my closed mouth over hers before nibbling and teasing until she parts her lips.Granted access into her depths, I lick and explore until her curious tongue slips between my teeth.I groan and close my jaw with just enough pressure to trap her.She squeaks.I flick the tip of my tongue over hers before releasing her and diving in with more force.

She doesn’t balk.Instead, she moans and grinds her pussy along the underside of my shaft.I yank my head back and curse.

Her hard nipples shift against my ribs as I suck down a breath deep enough to make my lungs ache.

“Are you too sore?”I ask.

When a few seconds tick by without her response, I lower my gaze and meet hers.

She quirks a brow.

“What?”I prompt.

“Are you asking me if I’m too sore for sex?”

“Yes,” I answer.

She studies my face.Blinks.Studies me again.

Tears still clump in her lashes.