“No,” Stefano said. “But I wasn’t planning on loving her. Just to use her as a warm cunt and a mother to my child.”
“Oh, well.” Achilles sounded unbothered. “That’s not happening anymore. But it’s not too late to admit defeat. Give me your territories in Naples, and I’ll save your kid from becoming an orphan.”
“Don’t you dare talk about my kid,stronzo,” Stefano spat. “I’ll make sure you and your little slu?—”
I jumped on Stefano and coiled my arms around his neck, squeezing for dear life. He jerked back, making a gurgling sound. But my angle was all wrong, and I flailed and fell to the side of his body. Stefano cursed, fumbling with his gun to try to shoot me. He managed to squeeze the trigger, the gunshot ringing in the air.
The bullet grazed my vest, then continued its journey to the wall. Achilles pounced on us, ripping the man from me. He didn’t use his shotgun. Likely, he didn’t want a friendly-fire situation. Instead, he grabbed Stefano’s neck with both handsand broke it in one smooth movement. Stefano fell to the floor like a sack of sand.
I dropped next to him and clutched my side where Stefano had shot me.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Achilles
I torethe protective vest from Tierney’s torso, numb fingers fumbling the side where the bullet had hit her. She lay on the floor. It appeared she wasn’t seriously injured. In fact, the bullet hadn’t even scratched her.
Coppola lay next to us, convulsing and foaming at the mouth. His heart would give out soon, but he still had a few excruciating minutes to suffer through.
“You hurt?” I cupped her face, my fingers trembling.
“Nope. The vest did its job.” She shook her head, smiling dazedly at me. “I took out three of his soldiers,” she bragged. “I could’ve taken more.”
“You’re insane,” I snarled, bending down to kiss the shit out of her.
She looped her still-tied arms around my neck, arching and meeting me halfway, and I groaned into her mouth in approval. My cock throbbed through my pants, pressed against her sweet cunt, and I pried my Bowie knife from my boot and sliced open the fabric of her flimsy top. Her tits sprang out, small and perky and perfect. I reached down and flicked one nipple with the tip of my tongue. She shuddered beneath me, trying to reach mebefore realizing she was still tied. Coppola was still coughing out his last breaths, watching us through glassy eyes.
Let him watch and choke on it.
“Technically, I won the bet. I got back in one piece.” I blew air on her nipple and watched it pebble. “Time to cash in my prize.”
She threw her head back and moaned. “Well, a bet is a bet.”
“We have an audience, though.” I switched to her other nipple, wetting it enough to make the cold air tighten it into a hard diamond.
Her gaze skidded to the trembling figure beside us. “Who cares? Release me.”
“Nah. I think I’ll teach you a lesson.” The tip of my knife trailed the skin of her belly, rolling south. Smooth, save for a jagged scar I now knew was from the loss of her uterus.
We both knew I’d never seriously hurt her. The shudder of anticipation and desire it sent through her made me even harder.
“Stefano, you have no idea what you’re missing. She’s so sweet.” I tugged at the waistband of her pants. She kicked them down dutifully, revealing no panties. “So…” I dipped my head between her legs and took a leisured lick. “Fucking…” My mouth fastened around her clit. “Sweet.” I gave it a good suck.
She cried out, thrashing as she tried to guide my head deeper between her legs with her hands, fumbling because they were still tied.
“Please,” Tierney bucked.
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me.”
Coppola blinked once, and I knew he was registering everything. That this was the last thing he’d see before he died.
“Hear that?” I locked my eyes on his tauntingly. “She is begging for it. You could’ve never given her what she wants.”
“Fuck me until it hurts,” she growled.
She was a complete psychopath.
