“Never mind. I can check.” I lowered one of my hands between her legs, and she gasped.
“Fuck.” The expletive had come from me. Never in my life had I felt a woman get this wet prior to sex. Lucia was literally dripping with her own desire. I lifted my two fingers up to show her. “Do you know what this is?” I asked her, but I didn’t wait for her answer. “This is your body preparing itself for mine, for my cock. This will allow me to plow into you over and over without much resistance. Do you want me to do that to you?”
“Y-yes,” she nearly sobbed out. I had her right on the edge, and I’d barely touched her.
“Good.”
And though it was one of the most difficult things I’d ever done, I let her go, leaving her so needy for me that she crumpled like a piece of wadded up paper to the plush carpet. I hurried out of her room without looking at her, then slammed the door shut behind me. Racing to my quarters and the massive shower it held, I stripped off as rapidly as physically possible, turned on the hot water and slipped inside, as desperate to seek relief as Lucia had been.
3
Lucia
After a restless sleep brimming with erotic dreams, I awoke feeling strange and out of sorts. Romeo had taunted me to the point where my body was throbbing, and I’d wanted him to take me, even if it hurt. Although my father had kept careful tabs on his daughter’s internet use, he’d allowed us all the girly magazines we could ever read, and one of them had mentioned that discomfort was possible during a woman’s first time. Back then, all I’d known about sex had been severely limited, and I’d dreamed of a tender husband who loved me and would never harm me. Even at that time, I’d known my marriage would be arranged, but I hadn’t suspected it would be to a man like Romeo Cavetti.
What worried me more than his violence and dangerous nature was my reaction to it. While I hadn’t ever wanted him to kill or hurt myfamiglia, I yearned for his calloused hands to do what they did to me the night before all over again. Which made me disgusted with myself. Why would I want my father’s murderer to be within five hundred feet of me? Much less in my room tormenting me with pleasure? Something must be wrong with me. Perhaps all that had transpired had caused so much pressure to my sanity that I was permanently broken. Perhaps what I really needed was a padded cell and a straitjacket, which wouldn’t be all that far from what I had now.
I’d been on my knees again praying toSanta Maria, when the Cavetti’s maid appeared behind me. I turned, noticing that her movements seemed furtive. Cautious. As if she were sneaking around. She carried no meal and when she spoke, it was in a whisper as if not wishing to be overheard.
“Signorina. I have news.”
This piqued my interest. In all my time here, she’d only ever denied my requests and told me next to nothing. “What sort of news?”
“It is about yourfamiglia. Yoursorelleandfratellos.”
“My sisters and brothers?” I clamped my hand onto her arm. “What is it?”
“They are here like you. Held.”
“Alive?” I asked, just to clarify.
“Yes.”
“Where?” I knew she might not tell me. I also knew me knowing might not help since I had no clue as to where my room resided in relation to the mansion—if indeed the Cavettis had taken us to the overly extravagant home I’d heard my father scoff about. Still, I had to question her.
She glanced toward the door as if nervous, lowering her voice so much that I had to lean in to make out her words. “On the other end of this floor are yoursorelle. Yourfratellosare in the basement. In the dungeons.”
Dungeons? That sounded far less comfortable than my own accommodation, but I clung to the notion of them being alive above all else. I had to be grateful for any small mercies.
“Can you get a message to them?”
She hesitated. “Signorina, I…”
“Nothing elaborate. Just… if you get a chance, tell them I’m here, too. Safe and alive.” Not that I could guarantee my own safety, but if Romeo’s behavior during his recent visits were any indication, he seemed less interested in killing me. If I could stay alive long enough—and hatch some sort of escape plan—I could try to get myfamigliaout. Though the odds would be against me, no doubt.
The maid nodded, and I gave her a fleeting hug. “Thank you, Philippa. Sincerely, It means the world to me that you brought me this good news.”
“You are welcome,signorina.” She squeezed her lips together in a tentative smile—the first I’d seen her give—then quietly, ducked out of the room.
I felt a surge of joy at the knowledge that myfamigliawas here with me, even if they were held captive. As long as that stayed true, hope remained.
When Philippa came back later that evening with my dinner, I pumped her for information again, wondering if perhaps she’d managed to deliver my message to them.
“No. I did not see any of them today. But I will tell them if I have the opportunity.”
Rashly, I embraced the girl a second time, making her nearly drop my meal. But having someone at least partially on my side in this place had filled me with more optimism than I thought I’d ever have. “I am so thankful for you, Philippa.”
Only then did I realize she’d brought more to me than my dinner. She’d also brought a box.
