Stealing Beauty (Stolen 1)

Chapter 10AdriánThe boat’s anchor splashed into the azure sea, and I stopped pretending to read. I’d been on deck for hours, turning the pages of the tattered copy of One Hundred Years of Solitude. I’d stolen it from Mateo this morning, curious about the story that had made Valentina smile.

I didn’t get the appeal. Then again, I’d never much cared for reading fiction. I didn’t have the attention span to get absorbed in a book, and the harsher realities of my life and family duties had kept me occupied with things other than fantasy.

It seemed my attention span for reading was even shorter than usual today. My gaze kept wandering to Valentina, watching her minute changes in facial expression as she flipped through Wuthering Heights. She laid on her front, stretched out on the deck beside me.

I suppressed a satisfied smirk. She was avoiding putting pressure on her ass. After I’d belted her last night, she’d be sore. Memories of the marks I’d left on her flesh stirred my arousal. I’d taken my time inspecting them this morning while she slept, curled up at my side.

She wore a bikini, but I’d insisted that she cover herself with one of my shirts. It swallowed her tiny frame, hiding her curves and covering the marks on her ass. I didn’t want anyone else to see her nearly-naked body. Especially not the captain or his son. And while I trusted Mateo with my life, I’d knock his teeth in if he looked at her with even a shadow of desire.

Valentina was mine. I’d stolen her and taken her for myself. She’d given herself to me years ago, no matter if she’d pledged herself to her husband in marriage. Valentina had always belonged to me, and her choices didn’t change that.

Her body remembered it. The image of her writhing beneath my hand as I shattered her was burned into my mind.

I diverted my thoughts before my cock could stiffen. Around Valentina, I had very little control, especially over my body. When I’d first taken her, my emotions had been roiling, her every word and action driving me close to madness. Now that I’d finally found some relief, marking her with my cum as she shuddered with pleasure, calm had settled over me.

Truthfully, I’d found a measure of peace even before I’d coated her with my seed. Ever since she’d clung to me in the shower after she’d been attacked, looking to me for protection, some of the rage burning inside me had eased.

I’d stewed in hatred and resentment for years, but it was harder to cling to when she was close enough to touch.

I indulged in the desire to touch her, scooting closer so I could run my fingers through her hair. It was as silky as it had been when we were teenagers. The texture fascinated me, her softness calling to a hungry, possessive part of my soul. For years, I’d coveted her, obsessed over her. Craved her.

That craving had only intensified over a decade of denial.

The ragged edge to my obsession smoothed slightly when she leaned into my touch, a small smile curving her pouty lips.

“Are you enjoying your book, or would you like to swim?” I asked. Now that we’d dropped anchor so Luis and Manuel could catch our dinner, we had a little time to get off the boat. The air was sweltering, and it would be a cool relief to jump into the inviting aqua water.

Her brow furrowed slightly as her lovely chocolate eyes met mine. She stared at me for a few seconds, as though trying to puzzle something out.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“Is this a test?” she asked, lifting her chin in a sudden challenge. “Because if it is, I’d rather not play this game.”

I frowned at her, but I didn’t stop stroking her hair. “What game? What are you talking about?”

She blew out an exasperated sigh. “You keep asking me about my preferences—what I want to eat, what I want to do. But I know you already have my decisions made for me. Why bother pretending otherwise, unless you’re testing me? Are you just looking for an excuse to punish me if I choose wrong?”

My eyes narrowed. “Is that really what you think of me? That I’m trying to bait you so I can hurt you?”

She shrank back slightly under the weight of my ire. My fingers tightened in her hair, preventing her from putting space between us.

“I…” She licked her lips. My gaze riveted on her tempting mouth. “Yes,” she admitted softly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Well, you’re wrong.” The words came out rougher than I intended. I took a breath and eased my grip on her hair. “I do care about your preferences. I might have taken you, but I’m not your jailor. You can make your own decisions.”