365 Days

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365 Days Page 7

by Blanka Lipinska


  When I was finished, my eyes were heavily accented, my skin perfectly coated with foundation, and my lips shone with Chanel nude lip gloss. I dried my hair, curling it slightly for a wavy effect, and tied it in a high chignon.

  I heard Domenico calling from outside.

  “Dinner’s served, miss.”

  Putting on the underwear, I called back through the door, “Give me two more minutes.”

  I pulled on the dress, stepped into the impossibly high heels, and sprinkled myself with a generous dose of my favorite perfume, stopping in front of the mirror for a second to nod with approval. I looked gorgeous. The dress fit perfectly and the red lace visible beneath it matched the red soles of the stilettos. It was provocative, but also elegant. I downed another glass of champagne, feeling ready to face the world and a little tipsy.

  As I left the bathroom and presented myself to Domenico, his eyes widened.

  “You look—” He broke off, looking for the right word.

  “Yes, I know. Thank you,” I replied, smiling coquettishly.

  “Those high heels are incredible,” he added in a whisper, and offered me his arm.

  I took it and let him lead me down the corridor.

  We went to the terrace I had had breakfast on earlier. The canvas-roofed gazebo was illuminated by hundreds of candles, and Massimo was standing beside it, his back turned to the building, staring into the distance. I let go of Domenico’s arm.

  “I’ll manage on my own, thank you.”

  The man retreated into the darkness while I headed toward the Man in Black with a steady gait.

  Hearing the click click of the heels on the stone floor, Massimo turned around. He was wearing gray linen pants and a light gray sweater with its sleeves rolled up. He walked over to the table and put down the glass he had been holding. His eyes trailed my every step as I closed the distance between us. When I stopped just a step away, he leaned back against the table, widening his stance. I took another step, halting between his legs, keeping my eyes on him. He was burning with passion. Even if I’d been blind, I would have felt his desire through my very skin.

  “Will you pour me a glass?” I asked quietly, biting my lower lip.

  Massimo straightened up, showing me that even in my heels I was still a lot shorter than him.

  “Are you aware,” he said in a whisper, “that if you keep provoking me, I might not be able to control myself?”

  I placed a hand on his stone-hard torso and delicately pushed him away, suggesting he should take a seat. He didn’t resist and did what I asked. Instead, he watched me with curiosity, still flushed, devouring me with his eyes—my face, dress, shoes, and especially the red lace dominating my outfit.

  I stood close to him so he could enjoy the scent of my perfume. My right hand went to his nape, and my fingers combed through his hair, pulling down his head. He didn’t resist, but his eyes never left me. I neared my lips to his and asked once more, “Will you pour me a glass, or should I help myself?”

  A moment later, I let go of his hair and went over to the cooler, filling my glass. Massimo was still sitting propped against the table, watching me closely. His lips spread into something approaching a smile. I sat down, playing with the foot of the wineglass.

  “Dinnertime?” I asked, sending him a bored look.

  He got up, drew near me, and placed his hands on my shoulders, leaning over and whispering into my ear, “You look gorgeous.” His tongue delicately skimmed over my ear. “I can’t remember any woman having such an effect on me.” His teeth trailed along the skin on my neck.

  I felt shivers going up my spine, all the way from between my legs.

  “I want to lay you on your belly right on the table, pull up that short dress of yours, and fuck you hard without taking that thong off.”

  I gasped, aroused. He went on. “Your smell… I felt it as soon as you stopped in the doorway. I’d like to lick it off you.” Saying that, he started to tighten his grip on my shoulders rhythmically. “There is one spot on your body that scent is absent, I’d wager. And it’s the same place I’d like to explore the most.”

  He broke off and started to kiss and gently bite my neck again. I didn’t resist, instead turning my head, giving him more space. His hands slowly slid down my cleavage and closed on my breasts. Hard. I moaned.

  “You see, Laura. You do desire me.” I felt his hands and lips retreating.

  “Remember. It’s my game. I make up the rules.” He kissed me on the cheek and sat down on the chair next to me.

  He was triumphant. We both knew that. It didn’t change the fact that I could clearly see the bulge in his pants.

  I pretended not to care, but it only made him laugh. He sat back, playing with his champagne glass, with an impish smile on his face.

  Domenico arrived at the door, only to disappear an instant later. Two young men showed up in his place, serving us appetizers: octopus carpaccio. It was delicious and delicate, and the dishes that kept arriving were even better. We ate in silence, shooting each other glances from time to time. After dessert, I pulled back from the table, took a glass of rosé wine, and said, my voice unwavering, “The Cosa Nostra.”

  Massimo shot me a warning stare.

  “As far as I know, it doesn’t exist. Is that true?”

  He laughed mockingly and asked in a low voice, “What else do you know, baby girl?”

  Disoriented, I started turning the glass in my fingers. “Well, I’ve seen The Godfather, but who hasn’t? I’m wondering how much truth there is to it.”

  “About us?” he asked. “There’s nothing there about me. As for the rest, I don’t know.”

  He was making fun of me. I knew it.

  “What do you do?” I asked.

  “Business.”

  “Massimo.” I refused to back down. “I’m asking for real. You want a year of my life and my unswerving obedience. Don’t you think I should know what I’m getting into?”

  His face became serious and he caught me in his gaze.

  “You are entitled to some kind of explanation. You’re right. I will tell you as much as you need to know.” He took a sip of his wine. “After my parents died, I was chosen as the next head of the family. That’s why people call me don. I own several companies, clubs, restaurants, and hotels—we’re just like a regular corporation. I’m the head. But all that is just a part of a bigger picture. If you need a list, you’ll get it, though I believe that the less you know, the better.” He kept his eyes trained on me, looking deathly serious.

  “What do you want to know specifically? You want me to tell you if I have a consigliere? Yes, I do. You’ll meet him soon enough. You already found out if I have a gun and if I am dangerous. Whether I tackle my own problems head-on. What else? Ask away.”

  There were a million thoughts whirling around my head, but I didn’t really need to know anything else. Most of what was happening was already clear. To be honest, since last night, I knew everything I wanted to know.

  “When will you give me my phone and laptop?”

  The Man in Black calmly turned in his chair and crossed his legs. “Whenever you want. We only have to agree on what you’re about to say to the people you’d like to contact.”

  I took a breath, preparing to say something, but he lifted his hand before I could start.

  “Before you interrupt me, I’ll tell you where we stand. You can call your parents, and if you think it necessary, I’ll let you return to Poland.”

  My eyes grew brighter and my face bloomed in happiness.

  “You’ll tell them you’ve received a very lucrative work proposition in one of the hotels on Sicily and that you’re going to take it up. There will be a one-year probation period. You won’t have to lie to your relatives when you feel like calling them. We’ve taken your things from Martin’s apartment before he returned to Warsaw. They should be here by tomorrow. I consider the entire subject of that man closed. Permanently. I don’t want you to see him anymore.”

&nb
sp; I stared at him questioningly.

  “Am I making myself clear? No? Let me elaborate on that, then. I forbid you to contact that man,” Massimo said icily. “Anything else?”

  I remained silent for a while. He had thought this thing out pretty solidly. It was all planned and logical.

  “Right. What if I need to visit my family?” I asked. “What then?”

  Massimo frowned.

  “Well… in that case I will be happy to see your beautiful country with you.”

  I laughed, sipping my wine. I was picturing him, the head of the Sicilian mob, strolling around Warsaw.

  “Can I disagree with you?” I ask.

  “That was not a proposition. I was just describing things as they are and will be.” He leaned toward me. “Laura, you’re smart. Haven’t you realized that I always get what I want?”

  I grimaced, recalling last night’s events.

  “As far as I know, don Massimo, not always.” I dropped my eyes to my lace underwear, still perfectly visible beneath my dress, and bit my lower lip.

  Then I slowly pushed myself up. The Man in Black carefully watched my every movement. I kicked off those gorgeous red-soled high heels and headed toward the garden. The grass was wet, and the air tasted of salt. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. That he’d come right after me. That is just what happened. I walked through the darkness, the only thing I could see being the faraway lights of boats afloat on the sea. Having reached the beach sofa under the rectangular canopy I had taken a nap in earlier, I stopped.

  “You feel right at home here, don’t you?” asked Massimo, stopping beside me.

  He was right. I didn’t feel like an outsider here. I felt like I’ve been living here all my life. Besides, show me a girl who wouldn’t want to live in a beautiful mansion, surrounded by servants and all kinds of luxuries.

  “I’m slowly starting to accept my situation. I’m getting used to all this. I know I have no other choice,” I replied, taking another sip from my glass.

  Massimo grabbed it out of my hand and threw it to the grass. He took me in his arms and delicately lay me down on the white pillows. My breath quickened. I knew anything could happen. He flung one leg over me and here we were again, lying just like in the morning.

  The difference was that earlier I had been afraid, and the only things I felt now were curiosity and arousal. Maybe it was all the alcohol I had had, but maybe I had simply accepted my fate, making everything easier.

  Propping his hands on both sides of my head, Massimo leaned over me.

  “I would like to…” he whispered, gently nudging my lips with the tip of his nose. “I’d like you to teach me how to be gentle with you.”

  I froze. Such a dangerous man, a powerful man, was asking me for my consent, tenderness, and love.

  My hands wandered up, stopping on his cheeks. For a while I held his face, staring into his calm black eyes. With a gentle motion, I pulled him closer. As our lips met, Massimo rushed in with all his strength, opening my mouth wider. Our tongues danced to the same rhythm. His body lay on mine, and his arms surrounded me. It was clear that we wanted each other. Our tongues and lips fucked, hard and full of passion, our sexual temperaments matching.

  A moment later, when the adrenaline rush subsided and I composed myself a bit, I realized what I was doing.

  “Wait! Stop,” I breathed, pushing him away.

  The Man in Black did no such thing. He grabbed me by the wrists, despite my protestations, and pinned them to the sofa. Then he lifted me, tightly clamping his hand around both my wrists. His other hand trailed along my thigh, climbing, until it felt the lace thong. He grabbed it, pulling his lips away from mine. The pale light of streetlamps in the distance faintly illuminated my terrified face. I didn’t fight him. I stood no chance. I lay motionlessly and tears streaked down my cheeks. Seeing that, he released me, pushed himself up, and sat on the edge of the couch, resting his feet on the wet grass.

  “Baby girl…” he breathed heavily. “When you’ve been using nothing but violence for your whole life and you’ve had to fight tooth and nail for everything you have… it’s difficult to react in any other way when someone takes away what you desire.”

  He got up and ran a hand through his hair, while I stayed down, frozen. I was livid, but at the same time, I felt bad for Massimo. I had thought he wasn’t one of those men who take their women by force, but this behavior must have been normal for him. Such roughness came as naturally to him as shaking someone’s hand. He had probably also never really cared for anyone—never having to struggle for anyone’s feelings or to nurture them. Now he was trying to make me reciprocate his feelings, and the only way he knew how to do it was by force.

  The terrifying silence was finally broken by Massimo’s mobile vibrating in his pocket. He took it out, glanced at the screen, and accepted the call. While he talked, I wiped away my tears and got to my feet. With calm, leisurely steps, I went back to the villa. I was tired, a bit drunk, and utterly disoriented. It took me a while, but finally I reached my room and collapsed on the bed, exhausted. I immediately fell asleep.

  CHAPTER 5

  When I woke up, it was already bright outside. I felt someone’s hand lying heavy on my waist. Massimo was sleeping next to me, curled into a ball, his arm around me.

  His hair fell over his face and his mouth was half-open. He was breathing deeply and steadily, and his tanned body—dressed the same as last morning—looked very pleasing surrounded by white sheets. God, he’s so hot, I thought, licking my lips and inhaling the scent of his skin.

  That’s all well and good, but what is he even doing here? I was afraid to move, to wake him, and I had to go to the bathroom. I started to slip from under his arm, lifting it delicately. Massimo took a deep breath and turned over on his back. He was still asleep. I got up and headed to the bathroom. Stopping in front of the mirror, I grimaced. Yesterday’s makeup was smudged all over my face, resembling Zorro’s mask now. The thin black dress I had on was crumpled and creased, and the intricate bun I had tied on my head last evening now looked like a bird’s nest.

  Just great, I thought, wiping the black smudges around my eyes with a cotton pad. Done with that, I took my clothes off and went to the enormous shower. I turned the water on and poured some bath gel over my palm. The door slammed open suddenly. It was the Man in Black. He was ogling me, not even trying to act cool.

  “Good morning, baby girl. May I join you?” he asked, rubbing the sleep off his eyes and smiling happily. At first all I wanted was to rush at him, pummel him with my fists for what would have been the thousandth time, and throw him out. But my experience of the last couple of days told me that it would come down to nothing and only elicit an abrupt, violent, and unpleasant reaction. Instead, I replied, spreading the soap over my body, “Sure. Be my guest.”

  Massimo stopped rubbing his eyes, frowned, and froze, dumbfounded. He must have thought he had misheard me. I had thrown him off balance.

  I couldn’t change the fact that he had just gone in behind me and seen me naked, but at least I could take the chance to see him without his clothes, too.

  Slowly, Massimo approached the expansive shower, grabbed the shirt from the back of his neck and tore it off with one fluid motion. I stood leaning against the wall, taking my time spreading the soap over my skin. All the time, my eyes didn’t leave the Man in Black, and he in turn kept watching me. I realized I was staring and that my hands had been caressing my breasts longer than necessary.

  “Before I take my pants off, I have to warn you. I’m a man, it is morning, and you’re naked, so…” He trailed off, shrugging nonchalantly and spreading his lips in a roguish smile.

  My heart skipped a beat. I thanked God I was under the shower. His words made me wet instantly. When had I last had sex? I asked myself. Martin had always treated it as a sporadic and unpleasant duty. I hadn’t been pleasured by anyone except myself for what felt like weeks. And I had just menstruated, so the hormones did their part in
skyrocketing my libido. “This is torture,” I muttered under my breath, and turned toward the shower head, turning the water temperature down until it became ice-cold.

  I was so aroused at the thought of seeing Massimo naked I drew up my toes on instinct, and all my muscles started flexing. For my own good and safety, I closed my eyes and entered the freezing stream, pretending to wash the soap off. Unfortunately, the temperature of the water did nothing to cool down my titillation.

  Massimo entered the enormous cubicle and turned on the second shower head. There were four of those in total, not counting the gigantic water jet panel that looked like a bathroom radiator, only riddled with little holes.

  “We’re leaving today,” the Man in Black said impassively. “We’re going to be away for a couple of days. Maybe weeks. I don’t know yet. We’ll drop by some galas and parties, so take this into account while packing your things. Domenico will take care of everything. You just tell him what you need.”

  I heard him but didn’t really listen. I was still trying my best to keep my eyes closed. In the end, my curiosity won. I turned his way and saw Massimo standing with his arms propped on the wall, letting the water flow freely down his naked body. The view was overwhelming—his toned legs, beautiful, shapely buttocks, and his muscled belly were all testament to the enormous work he had to do to keep his body in such perfect shape. Then my eyes stopped wandering and stopped on one particular point. I saw what I had been fearing the most. His beautiful, straight, and thick prick stood erect like the candle stuck in the birthday cake I had had back at the hotel. It was perfect—not too long, but as thick as my wrist. Flawless. I stood still in the cold stream, swallowing loudly. Massimo’s eyes remained closed, his face upturned. He was turning his head this way and that, allowing the water to rinse his hair.

 

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