“Or maybe,mè frati, you should go apologize to Katarina instead. You acted like a feral animal today. Shouting at her and all. No way to treat a lady.”
Andreas chuckles and slips his phone back into his jacket. “What the hell do you know about women?” He asks our friend,who apparently knows how to treat a woman better than I do now.
“I’ll have you know, between the three of us, I’m the most romantic. You two don’t understand womenat all.”
“Nun rùmpiri a minchia, Lucian,” I snap.
“But Lucian is right. Why don’t you go home? I’ve had enough of your sulking. And if that Julian is as bold as you say... who knows what he’s doing now.”
My imagination runs wild, picturing images that make my blood boil.
I stand up, the barstool wobbling, and I leave without a goodbye, my coat sweeping behind me as I cut through the casino floor, past the green felt tables and the blank-faced dealers who know better than to look up. The cold Sicilian night air hits my face the second I step out of the side exit, but it fails to cool the fire raging in my blood.
Gio is already waiting by the SUV. He takes one look at my face and immediately pulls the back door open without a word. I slide into the leather seat, the tension rolling off me in waves.
I order Gio to push the engine to its absolute limits, staring blankly out the tinted window as the city flies past. By the time I push open the heavy doors of the bedroom, the whiskey has settled into my bloodstream, leaving my head buzzing.
I am pissed, tipsy, and completely consumed by the need to silence the noise inside my head.
I move through the darkness like a predator. The air smells like her. That sweet, intoxicating scent that mixes wrongly with the alcohol in my system, acting as pure provocation.
I strip off my coat and my shirt. I drop to my knees on the edge of the mattress, wearing nothing but my trousers, the bed dipping under my weight, startling her awake.
I crawl over under the sheets, my large frame completely crowding her space. I trap her beneath me, my knees around her hips, chest hovering inches from hers.
For a split second, I catch a flash of uncertainty in her eyes. Her breath stutters as her body tenses under my weight. Fear flickers through her, but just as fast, she tightens her look and holds my gaze.
“Damiano?” she gasps. Her voice is dense with sleep and confusion. “Where have you been?”
I crash my mouth onto hers. As soon as our lips collide, she moans. A satisfied, loud, fucking moan that drives me wild. I nip hard at her lower lip, forcing her mouth open as my tongue sweeps inside, claiming every inch of her mouth. I bury one hand in her hair, gripping the soft strands to hold her head exactly where I want it.
She whimpers, her hands coming up to rest flat against my chest, feeling the wild hammering of my heart.
“Were you waiting for me,Dolcezza?” I rasp against her wet lips. She nods.
Leaning to my touch, she whispers,“Tardaste mucho.”Her fingers curl into my skin. “Where’d you go?”
“Was just planning how I’m going to kill Julian,” I growl.
Her breath hitches, the remaining sleep vanishing from her eyes instantly. She knows I am not making an idle threat. She saw what I did to Alfonso. Her hands immediately slide up my chest, as if attempting to soothe a beast.
“Damiano, no.Por favor,” she whispers, her voice urgent but dropping to a placating softness.
I shift my weight, driving my knee between her thighs to force her legs wider. I settle my hips directly against hers, my hardness rubbing against her heat.
“I saw how he looked at you, how he put his filthy hands on you. And I heard what he whispered to you.”
She goes rigid beneath me, but her fingers snake around the back of my neck, pulling me down until our foreheads touch. She is trying to defuse me like a bomb she knows is seconds away from detonating.
“Are you trying to run away from me?” I snarl, my fingers digging into the soft curve of her waist.
“No,” she pleads, her thumbs stroking my jawline, tracing the tense line of my muscles. “He just thinks he’s doing his job, protecting me. Like Mateo asked him to do...”
“I give zero fucks what his intentions were.” I snap, pulling my head back to glare at her, the alcohol and territorial jealousy refusing to be completely pacified by her soft touch. “The next time he touches you, I am putting a bullet straight through his skull. I will do it right in front of you. Do you understand?”
Her eyes widen, fear flitting over her face, before she catches herself. Her chest rises and falls with quavering breaths. I see the pulse in her throat racing, the conflict written across her features. She flinches under the violence of my words, but she stays right under me. Her hands don’t leave my chest.
"Promise me,” I demand, lowering my face until our noses brush again. From now on, you avoid his eyes. You ignore that fucker. If he walks into a room, you turn and walk out. You maintain a goddamn ocean of space between yourself and every other man in this house. Do you understand me?"
