That would be suicide.
I don’t even hesitate.
Still trying to cover my breasts with one arm, I rush into his room just in time to see him grab a handgun from the table. Ignoring my own nakedness as best as I can, I run at him and grab his arm.
He turns on me violently, trying to shake me off, but he’s too drunk. He stumbles, and we both go down hard. He tries to get back up. I grab his arm again.
“Stop. Snap out of it.”
With a snarl, he presses the barrel of the gun to my head and forces me flat onto the floor.
“Carlo has to die. Before he ever touches Lucia, he has to die.”
Pain flashes in his eyes again as he goes on. “She’s mine. He doesn’t get to touch her.”
He drops the gun beside us, leans his forehead against mine, and whispers, broken and raw, “You’re mine. You were mine. I can’t let you become his.”
He’s completely lost in his own head. He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know who I am. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing.
But I can’t let this madness get him killed. I can’t.
His scent fills my lungs, dragging me back to every night I touched myself, thinking about this man. Every foolish fantasy I built around him. The first day I saw him. That spring day.
I clutch his arm and whisper, “He’ll kill you, Tony…please.”
I cup his face, press my lips to his in a desperate kiss, and murmur, “Don’t do this. Don’t throw your life away for me.”
He’s too drained to return the kiss. He braces his hands against the floor and surges up again, fury roaring back to life.
“He doesn’t get to take another thing that was mine. I’ll kill him.”
Without thinking, I grab his arm and yank him hard toward me. Too drunk to resist, he crashes down with me. This time his full weight sprawls over my body, pinning me beneath him once more.
He pushes between my legs, rough and urgent. His hard cock presses against me, grinding insistently.
The fear is still there. But saving him matters more.
So I don’t push him away.
He grinds harder, and a confusing heat spreads through me, unwanted and overwhelming. His hands frame my face as he growls, “You’re fucking mine. Always were, even before you drew breath.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as another tear slips free.
Two choices stare back at me. Say no, he leaves and dies. Say yes… God, that’s my end.
But I can’t be sure he’ll really claim me. Maybe he’ll stop. Maybe he’ll come to his senses.
I’m losing my mind.
There’s no other option left. I have to gamble.
If this is the only way to save Tony, then I’ll accept it.
I force my eyes open, voice barely a whisper. “Then… make me yours, Tony.”
It’s all he needs to hear.
Because that’s exactly what he does.
