POV: EVE
The ride back to Dimitri's penthouse felt like driving toward her own execution.
Or her salvation.
Eve couldn't tell which anymore.
She sat in the back of the SUV, her thighs pressed together, her body humming with a need she'd never experienced before. Every bump in the road sent sparks of sensation through her core. Every time Dimitri's hand brushed against her thigh....casual, possessive, like he owned her....she had to bite back a whimper.
She'd watched him threaten to murder her husband.
She should be horrified.
Instead, she was so wet she could feel it soaking through the barely-there panties he'd put on her this morning.
"You're thinking very loudly, cara mia," Dimitri murmured beside her, his hand sliding higher up her thigh.
"I'm not thinking anything."
"Liar." His fingers traced the edge of her panties through the dress. "You're thinking about what I'm going to do to you when we get home. Aren't you?"
