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He leans into me, his hot breath against my ear. “I’ve been called many things. Charming is not one of them. You are mine, Ara, until I say otherwise. Do you understand me?”
At the fierceness of his words, I slowly open my eyes, competing with pleasure and determination. Fuck does the bastard know how to make me come undone.
“I plan on keeping you here. Filling you with my cock for the next twenty-four hours. I want you so swollen by Monday that every time you try to sit down, you’re reminded of how my cock feels in that sweet cunt of yours. I’m going to brand your ass black and blue and you’re going to beg me for more.”
Fuck.
He slips in a third finger and I moan every time his fingers curl and hit that spot.
“Why?” I breathlessly say. “You can have anyone.”
“It’s only you I want.”
His words shouldn’t give me any kind of comfort, but those final two pumps put me over the edge, and I’m a traitor to myself. Fuck does he smell good. Fuck does he feel good.
Then I’m also suddenly reminded these are the hands of a murderer. A man who wears a mask and tricks others into submission.
I’m falling for it. Well, at least my body is.
24
LUCA
Ara’s black hair fans around her as she sleeps. I had my fill of her twice more before she passed out beside me as dawn crept. It turns out, drunk Arabella has less inhibitions, and her body is far more honest than that poisonous little mouth of hers.
I push back her hair, unable to not touch her in some way. Dark bags sink under her eyes. She’s obviously fatigued. I hope what keeps her up late at night is the thought of me haunting her.
I washed every inch of her in the early hours of the morning, fascinated by every curve and pure unmasked pleasure. I loved rubbing my cum into her, branding her time and time again. I already know she’s on birth control but part of me considers how satisfying it might be to knock up Alexander Barone’s daughter. And that is the problem. Because I have never wanted to bring a child into this world.
I should kill her.
I know that.
I’ve never hesitated in the past.
I’m certain this has something to do with her father. And if I have to flush him out by using her, I will.
Lorenzo sends me a message and photo. One of a very drunk Lily in the back of his car. The text message short.
I turned into a babysitter tonight.
Satisfied, I open my side drawer. Inside it is a gun, knives, and a delicate necklace I stole from a certain little stalker’s apartment. I dangle it in front of my face, like I have on so many other nights, trying to think of what part Ara plays in all of this. Someone is attacking my business. So what’s her objective in entering the family mansion?
More pointedly, the names Dmitri gave me have no connection, which means he himself has something to gain by orchestrating Ara to target them. I look over to the woman sleeping soundly beside me.
She is walking on a thin rope and one that will certainly tie a noose around her neck in due time. So what is so important for her to risk it all and what part do I have to play in it?
25
ARA
“Are you okay?” Lily asks as I carefully take a seat across from her at our regular café.
I offer a polite smile but the truth is, my ass is bruised black and blue as promised by a certain mafia boss who, true to his word, didn’t let me leave his apartment until an hour ago. He also bought the very dress and heels I now wear and I feel like I’ve been branded. I’m still trying to decipher the strangeness of his tenderness. And the weird brutal awakening I’m into some kind of fucked up shit. But fuck, does it get me off.
“Yeah. I just didn’t get much sleep last night,” I say as I look at the menu even though I know I’m going to order the same as I always do.
Romi sits across from me; her sweatshirt this morning says Karma is a cat. A reminder of how strange it is knowing that Luca had Lorenzo go to my apartment and feed Tuna while I was held prisoner. At that point, I didn’t even bother asking how he had access to the apartment because, well, he’d already broken into it twice. That I know of.
