by Sara Fields
The walls were made from stone, like that of a castle, but there was a certain understated elegance to it all. Tapestries depicting knights on horseback and ancient Roman men in traditional togas decorated the walls. Paintings of beautiful Italian families were interspersed throughout the room too.
One of the more modern-looking families caught my eye. The man looked vaguely familiar and I blinked several times before it hit me.
Vincenzo Santaro.
The man in the painting looked just like him.
Where the hell was I?
Panicked, I pushed myself out of bed and looked out the closest window. Pressing my palms against the cool stone, I peered outside and gasped at what I saw. It was more than obvious that I wasn’t in Rome anymore. There was no Coliseum or city lights or views of the Mediterranean. Instead, I looked out to see rolling hills, tall trees, and more snow-peaked mountains than I had ever seen in my life. Blue sky interspersed with white clouds went on for as far as I could see.
I didn’t know if it was still possible that I was in Italy. If I was, it had to be to the north.
The window was quite high up and when I turned my eyes down, I realized that the stonework continued. It was a tower and I was all the way up at the top.
Had I walked into a fairy tale or was this still a dream?
I shook my head, chewing my lip and trying to figure out where I was. In the room with me were a number of other pieces of furniture that were carved out of the same mahogany that the massive bed was. It carried with it a certain air of regality that reminded me a bit of the one time I had visited Versailles and seen the French influences across the entire city, only there was a bit of Italian flair in its design. The carvings seemed stronger and more purposefully done. I ran my fingers along the smooth curves and descended deeper into the bedroom, noticing the open showers that had been built into a sort of grotto right across the room from the bed.
I climbed the two stairs leading up to them and took in the pebbled stonework beneath my feet and the strategically placed lights that lit up the shower so that it felt like I was up on a stage. The stones were smooth and rough in places along the wall and I absentmindedly traced them with my fingers as I explored. There was a small room off to the side with a toilet. There was a massive sunken bath in the corner of the room too. Huge double sinks lined the wall around the corner from that and I was quite certain that this was the most impressive master bath that I’d ever laid my eyes on.
There was a distinctive medieval feel to everything, and I found myself wondering if I was inside a castle somewhere.
There was a pair of large wooden double doors and I walked over to them, tentatively trying the knobs to see if they opened. They didn’t. I was locked inside.
I lay back down on the bed and stared up at the mirror, trying to piece together the events of last night. My head wasn’t pounding quite as hard anymore and I took a deep breath.
I started to remember everything. All my girls had cancelled on our plans and I’d gone out anyway. That’s when Vincenzo had shown up, buying me incredibly expensive drinks and flashing those lavish cufflinks right in front of me. We’d danced, left the bar, and he’d taken me back to his penthouse.
He’d drunk so much. He’d downed glass after glass of whiskey and gotten way too drunk.
He’d been hell bent on forcing me to have sex with him.
I’d pushed him out of a window.
I’d killed a man.
A soft cry escaped my throat as it all came back to me. Someone was dead because of me.
I should be in jail or worse, but I wasn’t. Instead, I was held captive here in some sort of regal bedroom in a castle of sorts. There were no bars or irons to bind me or anything like that. If anything, this was the strangest sort of prison that I could have ever imagined. Expensive features. A comfortable bed. A beautiful shower. Every creature comfort I could have asked for in a master bedroom suite.
I heard the jingle of the lock and the door slowly pushed open. A man dressed in a simple elegant burgundy button-up shirt and a pair of well-pressed black slacks walked inside. He was a big man and the thin fabric did little to cover up the hard muscles beneath it. Every part of him was hard, from the chiseled muscles of his chest to his bulging biceps and to the firm thickness of his thighs.
I lifted my eyes to take in his face. His jawline was strong and shadowed with a few days’ growth. On some men, it would appear sloppy, but not him. It just made him look regal. His hair was messy, but it appeared intentional and on him was ridiculously handsome. It was long enough to run my fingers through, and I found myself wanting to. Dark brown eyes bored into mine and I found myself trembling under his gaze. He radiated power and expectation. His body language was strong, demanding even, and I had the feeling he was used to getting his way whenever he wanted for whatever he wanted.
Or whoever he wanted. And right now, all signs pointed to the fact that he wanted me.
He cocked his head to the side, staring at me with a certain raw desire that made my heart begin to pound in my chest.
“Is there something you need, baby girl?” he asked, and my nipples pebbled almost instantly at his words. I was embarrassed to realize that my pussy was wet too.
I swallowed nervously, ignoring his question and asking my own instead.
“Who are you?”
My voice shook, giving away how very unsure I was of everything around me, including him.
The right corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk, his eyes sparkling in amusement. His eyebrows tilted down with his enjoyment and I was suddenly left feeling that I was out of my element with him.
“You threw my cousin out of a window,” he finally replied, his tone sharp and cutting.
I swallowed heavily.
I could see the resemblance in his features. This man was indeed related to Vincenzo. I had tried to run, and I’d been caught. Now it looked like I was about to pay for it. I wasn’t sure if I was about to be tortured or killed or whatever else this man had in store for me, but I really didn’t want to find out.
He didn’t seem particularly dangerous, but by sheer body mass, he was much bigger and clearly much stronger than me. I could fight him and try to run again, which ultimately would probably end up with him overpowering me and worsening whatever fate he had in store for me. Even if I did get past him, I wouldn’t know where to go and I’d never survive in the mountains. I’d never even tried to make a campfire.
My options seemed extraordinarily slim at the moment. The only thing I could think of was to try to explain myself and appeal to this man in hopes that he would believe me and grant me whatever mercy was in his power.
By the way he was staring at me, he held quite a bit of it. His shoulders drew back and he slowly rocked from side to side, waiting for me to say something.
I had to try to make him believe me.
“He wasn’t who you thought he was. He got really drunk and he had a gun. He tried to rip off my dress and shot off a few rounds. I was terrified that he was going to rape me. I was only defending myself. I didn’t mean to kill him. I was just trying to get away from him so that I could leave. He’s the one that shot through the window and couldn’t keep his balance anymore because he’d drunk so much whiskey. Honestly, I didn’t mean to kill him,” I explained. I pleaded my case to the best of my ability and the man just continued to stare at me, only it seemed that his amusement was growing stronger and stronger.
Then he did the unexpected.
He laughed at me.
Nothing about it was fake. In fact, his boisterous laugh bounced off the walls, seemingly louder than I expected and a soft sound of disbelief and desperation broke through my lips. When he was through, he looked back at me and chuckled.
“Don’t you worry, baby girl. Vincenzo had it coming for a long, long time,” he finally answered. “I just wish I had been there to see the whole thing. I would have helped you push him out the window myself.”
“What?�
�� I whispered.
I hadn’t expected that response, not even in the slightest. My heart pounded faster, and I found myself even more anxious than before.
“I’ve watched the surveillance footage over a dozen times. I couldn’t control myself. If there was any way for that rotten Santaro to meet his maker, it would be in the most epic defenestration of his very own making,” he said lightly as he smirked back at me. “The look on his face when he tumbled out that window was priceless.”
I searched his face for any measure that he was upset, but I found nothing. There wasn’t a single trace of fury to be seen and it was incredibly unnerving. I’d killed his cousin and he should want me to pay for it. He should want me dead.
“You aren’t angry?” I pressed. I had to know.
“No, baby girl, not at all. Should I be?” he asked.
I didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, I just chewed my lip and stared back at him. He wasn’t even remotely angry that I killed his cousin. In fact, he seemed happy that I had done it, which was entirely too unsettling and if I was being honest with myself, it frightened me.
“Am I going to be arrested? Are you going to kill me?”
“No. You’re safe here with me,” he answered.
I wasn’t sure if I believed him. I needed to know more about him before I decided what I thought of him.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Matteo Giovanni Santaro, Ruler of the Kingdom of Santaro, King of the House of Savoy, Sovereign of the Alps, Lord of the Provinces of Italy, Commander of the Forze Armate Italiane and the Carabinieri, and the King of the Mountains,” he answered.
I just stared at him. He couldn’t be serious. Nothing that he was saying was making sense. There was no king of Italy. It was a democratic republic, similar to that of the United States, with executive, legislative, and judicial branches. There was a single head of a state, a president and it most certainly was not this man. Kings came from a time of old and what he was saying could not possibly be correct.
He couldn’t possibly lead the Italian armed forces and their military police either. Other men did that.
Maybe he was just another rich man with an ego complex. Maybe he had enough money to make his own rules here in the mountains in his very own castle.
Or he could just be crazy.
“But for you, baby girl, you may just call me ‘Your Majesty’ instead,” he added firmly. “That would more than suffice.”
“There’s no way in hell I’d call you that,” I scoffed, looking away in disgust.
He chuckled again and the effect of his laughter on me was visceral. I felt off-balance and strangely aroused and there was nothing I could do to quell the feelings of desire I had for this man deep inside of me. Everything about him spoke to his confidence, and it was doing unexpected things to me that I never wanted to admit. Especially not to him.
“I’m looking forward to hearing you say those words for me when I put you on your knees, little girl. You didn’t want to take off your dress for Vincenzo, but you will for me,” he continued rather assuredly.
“I didn’t bare myself for him and I won’t for you,” I exclaimed, using my arm to cover my chest because I knew my hardened nipples were giving away the untruthfulness of my words. The lavender gown was thin enough for them to poke through and I didn’t want him to see it. His gaze dropped to my arm and I could feel myself blushing.
The way he looked at me left little doubt that he’d already seen the evidence of my body’s betrayal, that he knew my nipples were hard for him.
At least he didn’t know that I was wet, and I wasn’t about to let him find out.
“You will, baby girl, because you’re going to want to. You see, there are a great many differences between me and my cousin. For one thing, I don’t need to get drunk to take a woman, especially one as beautiful and enticing as you. For another, when I’m done with you, you’re going to be left sore in all the right places, which was never going to be the case with him. Lastly and most important though, unlike your encounter with my cousin, this meeting between us is going to end up with you screaming loud enough for the whole castle to hear instead of you throwing me out of a window,” he said.
This man was certifiably insane. I wanted to be furious at his demands and I felt like I should be, but his possessive confident nature was leaving me trembling with desire instead. I knew that I was wetter than before, that even more liquid heat had gathered between my thighs. What was wrong with me? Why was I reacting like this?
Worst of all though was that he was right.
Why did I want to undress for him? I shouldn’t want that. I had to deny it.
“I don’t,” I snapped, trying to sound brave when the only thing I wanted was to feel his touch on my skin, to kiss those handsome lips of his and to have him take me hard right on his bed.
Fuck. Get it together, Isabella.
“I won’t,” I exclaimed, trying even harder to convince myself, but when his smile widened further I realized I had done nothing of the sort. If anything, I had revealed myself to him completely.
“Don’t lie to me, little girl,” he answered sternly, and my stomach flipped inside me. “You will remove your dress, because you want to. If you don’t, that pretty little pussy won’t be the only place that’s well fucked and sore when I’m finally through with you. Now be a good girl and take off your dress for your king.”
My mouth had gone as dry as cotton. For a moment, I didn’t know what to do and turned my head, noticing a full glass of water on the nightstand. I moved away from him just a little bit to grab it, bringing it up to my lips and taking several full sips. I downed much of the glass after that and sighed with relief when I put it down.
“You’re stalling, baby girl,” he observed.
Again, he was right.
I turned back to face him. Nothing about him inspired the type of fear in me that his cousin had. This man was different. He was cool, confident, if a bit arrogant, but he didn’t feel dangerous nor was he blitzed out of his mind.
He felt calm. Possessive. An alpha male who was used to getting what he wanted.
I couldn’t want this. I had to be strong. If I didn’t fight back, I wouldn’t be me and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself after this was all over.
“I refuse. I won’t bare myself for you just like I didn’t for your cousin. You’re going to let me go and return me to Rome. I demand it,” I finally whispered, steeling myself for whatever was going to come next. I lifted my chin in defiance, challenging him, and when he smiled, I began to grow exceedingly nervous. I did my best to not let it show.
“I was hoping you would say that. It’s been quite a long time since I’ve had someone as pretty as you over my knee,” he countered.
I stilled. What the hell did that mean?
He took a step toward me and I crawled backwards away from him on the bed, rolling over to the side farthest from me.
“Don’t touch me,” I shrieked.
“I’m going to be doing a whole lot more than that, baby girl, and you’re going to beg me for it,” he replied darkly, and a shiver of desire raced down my spine. I didn’t want to believe him. I couldn’t.
He strode around the bed and I scuttled back toward the window I’d looked out of not so very long ago. His movements were sure and steady and before I knew it, he’d cornered me and I had nowhere to go. He slapped his hands on the wall to either side of my head, using his body to surround mine, and for just a moment I allowed myself to enjoy his presence. His chest rose and fell and I took in his scent, breathing in the fruity smell of a ripe vineyard and smoke and citrus and it was decadently masculine. I tried to ignore the fire igniting inside me, burning at being chased and cornered like this.
I swallowed and tried to remember myself. His fingers left the wall and brushed across my shoulder, tracing my collarbone and finally pausing to surround my throat. His palm pressed firmly against me, just enough to remind me that with a simple mov
e, he could control whether or not I breathed at all.
As much as it aroused me, it also made me livid. I didn’t want to like it and the fact that I did made it that much worse. I had to fight back. I did the only thing I could think of.
I wound my arms around his neck, feigning interest. I wanted him to think I was falling for his alpha nature. Using my body, I curled into him, carefully situating my leg between his thighs. I gripped his shoulders with my fingers, still pressing myself against him, before I pulled back and brought my knee up hard right into his balls.
Swiftly, he outmaneuvered me, twisting his hips out of the way and ensuring that my attack didn’t connect where it was supposed to. He laughed and gripped my upper arm, twisting me around so that my chest pressed against the wall. He took that arm and twisted it behind my back, thoroughly manhandling me into place. His chest pressed against my back and his other hand wound back around my throat.
“You forget, baby girl, I’ve watched you do this before. Over and over again when you did it to my cousin and knocked him to his knees,” he said softly, and my stomach fell. I tried to twist out of his grasp, but he was too strong, and he had me at a disadvantage pressed up against the wall like this.
My inner walls fluttered with need and my nipples pebbled hard beneath my dress, feeling the rough surface of the stone through the thin fabric. He removed his hand from my throat and my cheek pressed against the wall. He traced down the line of my spine, pausing as he caressed my backside through the cloth of the sundress.
“Such a beautiful little thing,” he murmured.
My pussy clenched tightly at his words. Although he was demanding more than I wanted to give, the way he was doing it was deeply arousing. I felt appreciated. Beautiful.
Desired.
It made me want to give myself to him, even though I shouldn’t. I was his captive. I didn’t know if this man was protecting me or if he would be my downfall, but I sincerely did not want to find out.
