Page 24

I come on his fingers, biting his mouth to keep from screaming, my whole body shaking. He licks them clean, one by one, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Now you can shoot."

The walk to the north cliff takes ten minutes. I feel every step in my swollen cunt, every breeze against my marked ass, every bit of his come still dripping down my thighs. He walks behind me, close enough that I can feel the heat of his body, far enough that I cannot reach back and touch him.

The wind has died down, just as he promised. The sea stretches out below us, dark and endless, the horizon a blur of orange and purple as the sun sinks toward the water. The rifle is already there, waiting on a stand, a heavy bolt-action thing that looks like it could take down a bear.

Romeo hands it to me, his fingers brushing mine. "Your turn, Donna."

I take the rifle, feeling its weight and the cool metal against my palms. The target is a hundred yards out, a paper circle pinned to a bale of hay. Easy. I have been shooting since I was twelve years old, since my father first put a pistol in my hand and told me that a woman who cannot defend herself is a woman who will not survive this life. I haven't held one since I've become partially blind; I have no idea how this turn out.

I raise the rifle, sight down the barrel of hay without blinking, and squeeze the trigger.

The shot goes wide. Three inches to the left.

Romeo laughs behind me. "Jealousy ruins your aim."

"Shut up." I reload, the bolt sliding smoothly, and try again.

This time, the bullet tears through the center of the target. I lower the rifle and turn to face him, a triumphant smile on my lips.

"Not bad," he says. "But I think you can do better."

He steps behind me, his chest pressing against my back, his hands covering mine on the rifle. His breath is warm against my ear, his cock already hardening again against my ass.

"Relax," he murmurs. "Breathe out. Squeeze."

The shot goes exactly where I meant it to. The bullseye is easy to spot in the sun's brightness, making my life a little bit easier.

"See?" His lips brush my neck. "You just needed the right motivation."

I set the rifle down and turn in his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck. The wind picks up again, whipping my hair around my face, but I don't care. I can feel his heart beating against mine, steady and strong.

"I am still jealous," I admit quietly. "I will always be jealous. I cannot help it."

"I know." He kisses my forehead, my scarred eyelids, and the tip of my nose. "That is why I love you."

I can see it in his eyes, the truth of it, the weight of it. He loves me. He has always loved me. And I have always loved him, even when I hated him, even when I wanted to kill him, even when I threatened to burn his house down with him inside it.

I kiss him instead of speaking, pouring everything I cannot say into the press of my lips against his. He kisses me back, slow and deep, his hands cupping my face like I am something precious.

When we break apart, the sun has almost disappeared below the horizon. The sky is a deep purple, the first stars appearing overhead. It's perfect, absolutely perfect.

"We should go back," I whisper.

"We should. You're going to need your strength for tomorrow night." He mutters against my throat, nuzzling as he wraps his arms around my waist, swaying.

I raise a scared eyebrow, having no clue what he's talking about. "What's happening tomorrow?"

"You're meeting my family." He grins, feeling my pulse flutter against his lips on my neck.

My stomach drops down to my ass. Oh god, I'm meeting the Messina women.

SEVEN

IRIS

The long dining room in the east wing of the Palermo estate smells of roasted veal, aged Barolo, expensive perfume, and ancient Sicilian judgment.