His Innocent Sera

"Nate, stop" Gloria beamed as she saw him walking down the corridor. She walked towards him as he stopped.

"What is it?" Nate asked, looking sour.noveldrama

"What is wrong? You look sour?" she noted, eyeing him up and down. Nate ground his jaw.

"The fuck you want?" he growled, leveling her with a warning glare. She swallowed before pasting the smile back on her face. She stepped closer.

"I am visiting our beach house with my family. Gigi is also coming. Would you like to join?" she offered, batting her long lashes at him.

"No," he replied, his tone clipped and icy.

"Are you sure? Simon wants to come too. He is overly interested," Gloria hinted, playing with her hair. His jaw ticked with annoyance.

"You know, he has asked me out too many times. I feel bad rejecting him every time and I....," she trailed off when her gaze landed on the bloody scratch across his throat.

"There is a scratch on your throat. Were you fighting a kitten or something?"

Gloria noted with a frown before extending her hand to touch it. He caught her hand mid-air before she could touch him. He tossed her hand aside in open declaration that he didn't like being touched.

"None of your business," he replied before turning on his heels and striding off.

Slipping into the driver's seat, he adjusted the rear-view mirror to have a look at the mark. There indeed was a scratch marring his throat- a small one but prominent. She had peeled off his skin with her deadly nails. He touched it, gently brushing his fingers over the wound but instead of feeling pain, a weird, almost electric sensation coursed through him. His pulse kicked up, his mouth curving into a dazed smile. Closing his eyes, he leaned back in his seat, savoring her lingering touch on his neck.

'Fuck," he murmured, licking his lip, still smiling. If her anger felt so good, he couldn't wait to find out how her passion would feel.

He had to see her. He decided he would visit her tonight.

She quickly sat up, alarm flashing in her eyes as she held his gaze. She knew why he was here- to punish her for talking back.

"You are too easy to scare," he commented flat out. She swallowed, her gaze flickering to the window which was open. Light gusts of air drifting in through the gap.

"Have I caused those tears, sweetheart?" she felt the gentle brush of his fingers against her cheek, snapping her attention to him. A subtle frown marring his brows as he traced the path of her tears with his eyes. Fighting the urge to get away from his hold, she stayed put and shook her head.

The frown deepened, his expression darkening into something far more dangerous as he demanded, "Who is it then?"

She felt irritation flickering within her. Why does he have to know everything about her?

"No one," she answered. She added as he kept looking at her expectantly, "Was just thinking about my family."

Understanding dawned on Nate. He assumed she was talking about the tragedy that had befell her mother.

"Your book," he held out. She reached out with her hand to take the book but froze when he placed crushed petals on it.

Color drained from her face before she slowly raised her gaze to meet his eyes.

"Who gave this to you, Princess?" he probed, gauging her expression.

She fought back the panic that surged through her.

"Is it a boy?" he pressed, his expression darkening.

"No," she blurted out. A spark of distress in her eyes as she darted a look at the crushed flowers. She couldn't help but imagine Giovanni's crushed head in its place. Blood oozing from his wide-open dead eyes. A chill ran through her at the mere imagination.

"Mrs. Barone knows I love flowers. She gave me this," Sera lied again, hoping God would forgive her. She was lying to protect an innocent life.

"From Italy?" he asked, raising his brows in question.

"She grows them here," she answered before averting her gaze. His inquiry was making her uncomfortable. Unfazed by her unease, he studied her face for a moment before extending his hand and lifting her chin.

"I know you are smart enough to never lie to me," he remarked, his stare piercing hers as he held her gaze.

"I want to live," she answered, her brows furrowing in a subtle frown. He let out a deep chuckle, amused by her argument.

"So you know I'll kill you if you ever hurt me," he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he leaned closer. She took the book from his hand and quickly tucked it beneath her cover.

"I know you," she answered and it wasn't a compliment. He smirked. This little mouse was claiming something way beyond her understanding. It was cute.

"You do?" he teased, bringing his mouth dangerously close to hers. Their nose touching. Her wary gaze flickered from his eyes to his mouth.

"Then tell me," he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips. "Can you guess what I am going to do next?" his voice a husky whisper, his hot breath caressing her soft

lips.

She opened her mouth to speak, "I..I.." he silenced her by connecting their lips.

He didn't have much patience when it came to her.

He held her face in his large hands and deepened the kiss, the crescent moon stood as the sole witness of their intimate moments. She was ethereal inside and out, overflowing with warmth and tenderness Her presence glowed like a quiet beacon among a sky of dying stars and, he, helpless against the pull, was drawn to her like a moth to flame.

And that was disturbing as fuck.

He wasn't a piddling moth with no power or influence. He was a predator who prowled and hunted.

Devouring her tender mouth, he pushed her down on the mattress. His body on hers created a huge dip in it.

She gasped as he dropped his lower

body against hers. His muscular thighs intertwining with her lean ones. She felt something hard stabbing against her inner thigh. To escape it, she moved her thigh only to have him moan in response. He broke their kiss to hold her gaze. His eyes clouded with unrestrained desire, bored deeply into hers, conveying what his mouth didn't.

"There is something against my thigh," she said in a quiet voice.

Breathing hard, he placed his forehead against hers and suggested in a hoarse murmur, "why don't you put it away yourself."

She was hesitant, "I don.."

"Do it," he commanded, having no patience for any argument. He was dying for

her to touch him. He needed to feel her soft hands wrapped around his hard cock.

Gulping, she reached down between them and grasped the object.

"Fuck," he cursed, pressing his face against her cheek. His face cotorted into what seemed like pain but he didn't tell her to stop.