He’s loud. He’s so fucking loud, his cries working up into a crescendo and echoing through the room until I want to slap a hand over his mouth.
But I don’t. I still get off on hearing it, on knowing that the icy Clemenza prince will melt into a torrent forme.
I work him through it until his knees buckle and I have to hold him up, his full weight collapsed against my chest. I’m holding him, supporting him, my arm wrapped around him in an embrace instead of a prison…
And then I shove him forward so he has to catch himself on the glass.
Caligula Clemenza doesn’t need propping up. He proved that by playing me, and playing the Morellis as well. He’s supposed tobe their fucking enemy, and a flutter of lashes over those golden eyes had them wanting to kiss and make up.
He takes a breath or two, then leans down to pull the robe back on. And when he turns around to face me, he’s no longer that needy little slut who couldn’t think because his balls were so heavy. His eyes are glittering and cold andcalculating.
“I know what we need to do,” he says.
I almost laugh. “There’s that venomous little viper,” I say. “Brain back online, huh?” It’s unnerving how fast he can clear his head. That was the point, of course, of jerking him off on my French doors—which I’ll have to fucking clean down myself, since I don’t want Rosa to see the evidence of what just happened.
But as much as his brain has cleared, I can’t seem to get the buzzing out of mine. I can still hear those sounds he made, feel his weight and his warmth in my arms. And I’m hard as iron, half thinking about throwing him over the breakfast table and fucking him until I empty out deep in his gut.
“Well?” I ask, since I need to keep his focus on my face. I don’t want him to know he makes me just as hard as I make him. “What’s your genius idea?”
“We’ll meet with my Loyalists,” he says.
At least it kills my hard-on. “No fucking way.”
“Yes fucking way,” he says, hard and haughty. “I don’t care if you?—”
But he breaks off as we both hear it—footsteps, running down the staircase and getting fainter.
Shit. There’s only one member of my household who can move that fast and light.
Sammy must have seen us.
CHAPTER 13
CALIGULA
I feel awful.
Not for myself, although it’s not great to know that someone saw and heard melike that.
But I feel awful for Sammy. I know he has a thing for Damiano, sees me as a usurper, so it can’t have been much fun for him to see…well.
Of course, he could have respected our privacy and left as soon as he realized what was going on. But still?—
Damiano moves toward the door and I grab his arm to stop him. And maybe also to touch him again.
“Get your fucking hand off me.”
“You can’t go to Sammy right now,” I say, but I do take my hand off him. “Let’s give him some time to collect himself, and then I’ll go down and see if?—”
He seizes me by the arms, his fingers digging in hard and painfully, just like the first night I met him. “If you think I’mgonna let you humiliate Sammy along with me, you’re out of your mind.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I protest.
But of course he would think the worst. I threatened Sammy’s life to save my own.
“You keep away from Sammy,” he growls, “and you keep your goddamn forked tongue to yourself.”
All I wanted to do was ask Rosa ifshethought Sammy was okay. I’m the last person he’d want to see right now, but Damiano would be second-last, which this thick-headed Giuliano doesn’t seem to realize.
