This man is tethering himself to me in minute ways he’s probably not aware of. Each touch, no matter how cruel, and each word, no matter how harsh, is something I’m emotionally starved for. And this is despite my aversion to physical contact. Whatever brought him here is fueled by something ominous, maybe even sinister, but that doesn’t stop what’s happening to me. I blame the little girl who met him, the one who sees him from a different point of view.
Those rose-colored lenses will be shattered, given time. He runs in the same circles as my father, and he is despicable. Birds of a feather…
The man slides his hand from my lower back to grab my ass and presses my hips to his. This time I can’t stop from gasping at the feel of his cock straining against my belly. It’s harder than I thought one would be, but my research only explained so much. The internet is no substitute for personal experience.
He sways from side to side, rubbing his erection across my stomach as he says, “If you speak again, I will shove my cock between those pretty lips to ensure you shut the fuck up.” His eyes more than gleam now, and my trembling grows stronger. He smirks down at me, obviously enjoying taunting me. “That way, the only sounds I’ll hear are you gagging and swallowing as I fuck your mouth. And when I come, it will only be there because that’s how you treat filthy whores whose fathers are fucking trash.”
Maximus Silvestri is one of my father’s enemies. It’s no surprise to me because there are many, and now that I know what drives this stranger, it’ll be easier to accept my fate; death, after a sequestered existence, waits for me. There are many things I will never do, things I will never see, and places I will never visit, but Maximus has given me something I’d never thought to experience.
The first bloom of arousal.
And like a red rose, it will be stained with the crimson of my innocence, my suffering, and ultimately my life.
Maximus
She is…
Words fucking fail me. Or perhaps there are too many at once?
Whore.
Insane.
Enemy.
Those are the ones that are loud and clear, feeding my hate and squeezing my mind like a vise. They’ve been swirling in my psyche, gaining momentum ever since my brothers and I first put our plans into motion. Revenge is a powerful motive and has been my obsession for so long that it’s become like a lover to me, a fictitious wife who’s always hovering and demanding attention. I’ve had to keep it at bay, restrained more securely than the women I fuck, or else my need for justice would cause me to behave rashly and without thought.
This is something I can’t allow. Ever.
There is too much at stake.
I pride myself on many things, but my self-control is a main contender. Emotions are fickle things and cannot be relied on to make decisions. But to dole out violence? That’s when I release them like a pack of wild dogs, letting them tear into their victim with relish.
If there were words for me, I’m sure they’d be just as inciting as the ones I’ve given this young woman shaking in my hold. What would Caruso’s daughter think if she knew them?
Narcissist.
Killer.
Evil.
It doesn’t bother me because they’re true. Anyone who’s been in my presence knows this instinctively. And based on the way the woman’s staring at me, she senses this, knows what malignant words describe me. Just as I know the ones for her.
But there are others…
And they are opposing the first set, frustrating me to the point that the desire to kill her—in order to rid myself of this inconsistency and confusion—burns within my gut.
Enigmatic.
Courageous.
Alluring.
These are terms I never thought would surface to my subconscious when I entered her bedroom. I anticipated her hysterics and tears, followed by screaming and begging, but I received none of that. The daughter of a crime lord usually possesses an air about her often likened to a princess—a spoiled, manipulative bitch who will remain that way unless her father teaches her better.
Or her husband breaks her.
Instead, I’ve found a young woman who carries herself with more poise than a queen despite the fear lurking in her gaze. And like royalty, she articulates each and every word she speaks, giving me a notion of her education and intelligence.
