He extends his arm to lightly trail his fingertips down the side of my face and I can’t prevent the widening of my eyes or the fierce pounding of my heart. I could pull away, but something that simple wouldn’t stop a man like Tristano. Octavia said it best: he’s direct and formidable.
I don’t stand a chance against him.
My skin comes to life under his touch, like he’s shocking me with the barest of electrical currents, leaving me tingling. Only the sensation spreads and manipulates the rest of my body, not just my face. My nipples harden, my breaths quicken, and my sex pulses. This worries me more than him demanding that I talk.
Because he could demand other things I wouldn’t be as opposed to…
He continues to drag his fingers past my jawline and down the side of my neck to skim the front of my throat. Then he takes my chin in hand between his thumb and index finger, keeping me in place.
“I don’t need to hear your voice in order to have your acquiescence,” he says, “but what I won’t tolerate is your refusal to communicate in any fashion. So when I ask you something and I don’t receive an answer, you can anticipate that I’ll force it from you by any means necessary.”
He’s so close that the breath carrying his words brushes against my lips and I lick them, wondering what it tastes like, other than the hint of a delicious minty flavor.
“Nod if you understand,” Tristano says. When I do he doesn’t release me like I expect. Instead, he spreads his fingers to grip my jaw, the warm metal of his ring pressing against my skin. “And one more thing. Don’t try to fuck any of my men or the ones we come into contact with. Benito and the others don’t need you to distract them and I don’t need you to cause trouble just because you’ve decided to act like a whore.Hai capacito?”
Even though I try not to react, my lips part on a gasp, one that I wish I could mold into curses and insults. The urge to tell Tristano what an asshole he is nearly burns a hole in my tongue when I don’t voice the thought, but he’s not worth speaking to. I haven’t been silent all this time to waste words on someone like him.
His gaze falls to my mouth and flares with heat. Seeing that gives me the strength I need and I jerk my face away, out of his grasp. Tristano looks at my lips for a second longer before his eyes are fastened on mine.
“That show of rebellion,” he says, his tone deathly quiet, “will be the first and last from you that I’ll allow. If you decide to test me on this, Violetta, you’ll quickly abandon your silence in order to beg for mercy or scream from pleasure. Whichever comes first.”
Tristano
Violetta stares at me as though I’ve gone insane.
And I can’t disagree with the notion. Why the fuck am I threatening her in such a way? I could’ve said anything that wasn’t sexual in nature. Christ knows I don’t threaten my enemies in such a way.
My behavior has to be due to the fact I haven’t had a lover in months and have yet to take the time to find one. Even with the demand to satisfy my basic needs roaring in my head and the hardening of my cock, Violetta is not a candidate for me to fuck in order to assuage my sexual frustration.
Which brings me to another trail of thought I haven’t pursued.
“How old are you?” I ask. Her silence continues and that’s no surprise. But I don’t miss the way her eyes widen infinitesimally. Just that minuscule action raises my suspicions. “Right,” I say with an exhale to relieve some of my irritation. “I forgot you require ‘yes or no questions.’ Are you eighteen?”
She stares back at me as one does a threat or maybe even an opponent.
The blatant challenge swimming in her gaze has my cock twitching. I’m used to women doing what I say and without hesitation. It’s been this way all my life and I suspect it’s because of many things such as the power I wield from being the head of my family, my need for authority and order, and the personal rules I subject others to. Yet this young woman, who cannot begin to compete with me in terms of power, offers nothing but resistance at every turn.
I want nothing more than to take her over my knee.
The image has my cock doing more than twitching. It hardens to the point of pain and I clench my molars in vexation. While I don’t allow my body to control me, it’s difficult to reconcile my needs and wants.
And I want to do a number of things to Violetta.
Things some people would consider risqué.
I once heard Rafael comment, “There’s no accounting for taste, so I eat what the fuck I want.” Needless to say, he wasn’t referring to food. I adopted his sentiment a long time ago, which is probably the reason not all women find it enjoyable to be my lover. I don’t just push them to their limits and mine, I bend them until I’m teetering on the edge of no return. And if I plummet, I’m taking them with me, damning us both.
I shake my head to clear it of the licentious musings and refocus on the objective of this conversation. “Answer the question. Are you eighteen?”
Violetta slowly nods and a sense of relief washes through me. Although I’m not sure why. It doesn’t matter whether or not if she’s of age, since I can’t fuck her regardless. Perhaps it lessens the inappropriateness of the things I said not a moment ago.
“That will be all.” I jerk my chin toward the couch. “I suggest you rest while you can. It’s been a long night and you have to be exhausted by now.”
She doesn’t acknowledge what I said and rises to her feet, leaving me to stare at the swaying material of her dress as she walks down the narrow aisle. After Violetta sits next to Benito, he leans and whispers something in her ear. Does he think she’ll talk to him? Maybe confide in him?
My blood heats.
What the fuck is Benito saying to her?
