Blood & Lies (A Twisted Duet Book 1)

by Bella J

  I heard him groan behind me. “That’s fucking right, little mouse. I have that power. No one else, just me.”

  His hand dipped down, and brushed against my wet, exposed lips, his touch making me shudder with delight. And then his touch was gone. My hips tried to move in search for more, but pain radiated up my back and into my shoulders because of the movement, and I forced my greedy body to remain still.

  A low, dark chuckle rumbled from behind me. “You are not in control, Tatum. I own your pleasure tonight.”

  Something was gently being eased across my skin something that felt like a whip, and I instantly stiffened.

  ”Shhh, you don’t have to be afraid of my whip, Tatum. Vico’s whip was controlled by his anger, his greed, his need to punish.” He traced the whip back down my spine, circling my ass. ”My whip is controlled by my need to give you pleasure, to see you succumb to those desires that haunt you. Surrender your body to me, and let go of your fears.”

  I heard the whip cut through the air, but it was too late to even try and brace myself for impact. The whip landed hard and hot on the skin across my ass, the force of the strike letting me move forward, my shoulders burning as it stretched further while the chains ruthlessly kept me in place. When the second lash struck across my upper thighs, I was prepared, forcing my body to remain still, to soak up the pain that seared my flesh.

  His fingers moved through my slit, and I moaned, suppressing the need to push my hips out in order to give him more access.

  “Does that feel the same? Does the pain from my whip feel the same as Vico’s?”

  My God. It didn’t feel the same at all. In fact, it couldn’t have been more different. My body wanted this, my body craved more, even though every part of me ached in the position I was in, I needed so much more.

  “Do you still think you can’t handle the pain, Tatum?”

  Another lash, more stinging of flesh, and I cried out, “Yes, I can handle it.”

  A finger entered me, his thumb stroking my sensitive flesh. The cries and the moans that rolled out of my mouth were uncontrollable as my body shuddered around his finger.

  “Good God, Tatum. I could look at you like this all day. Unfortunately for us both this isn’t a kind of position you can hold for long.”

  “I can.” The words just came out. The thought of him stopping this was incomprehensible for me right at this moment. “Don’t stop,” I begged through rapid breathing. “Not yet. Please don’t stop…sir.”

  “Fuck me,” he moaned. “If it were up to me I’d leave you like this all goddamn night. If you can handle more, I’ll give you more. But you don’t have a safe word, Tatum, and I don’t plan on giving you one.”

  “I can handle it.” There was no doubt in my mind. “Push me to my limits, show me what you can do to me...please.”

  “Jesus Christ, you crazy, perfect fucking woman.”

  Another lash…and another…and another. He was concentrating on my ass and thighs, never once touching my back with his whip. It’s like he knew that my back had now recently become a hard limit for me. But this, with him, this I could handle. The fact that I could keep my body still and endure the pain was feeding my will to go farther, to get pushed harder. I’ve never felt more empowered, even though I was the one bound and vulnerable.

  Another lash of the whip, this time landing across my outer lips, the sting burning and aching straight to my core, yet I cried out with sheer pleasure.

  “Your skin is the most beautiful canvas of pinks and reds, Tatum.” He struck me again, then rubbed the whip between my legs, coating the leather with my arousal. “You’re like my own goddamn masterpiece.” The tip pushed against my clit, and I felt the pressure build and build inside me, threatening to erupt and shatter me into pieces.

  “Oh no. Not yet, little mouse. The only way you’re coming is with my cock inside you.” The whip was gone, leaving me aching and panting for more. Once again he had pushed my body past the point of no return, and there was no going back for me now…not until my body got what it wanted.

  One more strike echoed around us, and this time I screamed as the pain seared and singed my skin. I was out of breath, my body aching in places I never even knew I had. His fingers invaded my body again, pumping in and out, forcing me hard and fast to the edge of release.

  “Listen to me, Tatum. I’m going to fuck you now, but you need to keep very still. Do you understand? Do not fucking move.”

  “Yes.” I could hardly hear my own voice as exhaustion started to set in.

  Strong hands gripped my hips, keeping me in place. My body readied itself to be taken, to be filled to the brim, my mind nothing but thoughts of pleasure and ecstasy.

  I felt the tip of his cock nudge against my entrance, and already soft moans were leaking out of my mouth like gentle pleas to be satiated.

  Slowly, gently he eased inside me, careful not to rock me forward too much. More and more he pushed and stretched, my body wrapping around him, welcoming him, until he was buried inside me to the hilt.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Tatum.” He growled behind me. “I can feel how much your body wants me inside you.”

  Carefully he eased out, then back in, the slow leisurely stroke of his cock making me feel every inch of him, letting me experience every ounce of pleasure. It was so strong, so intense that tears threatened to erupt from my body because my soul couldn’t handle the power, or the passion that flowed through him and into me. It was such a delicate, yet strong delight how perfectly he fit inside me, how impossibly satisfying it was to let him take me, use me…consume me.

  One of his hands let go of my hip and moved up my spine. “This…you are too much, Tatum. Your body is challenging my self-control, provoking the selfish beast in me. I need to move faster.” He pulled out. “Tell me you can handle whatever the fuck I give you.” And then with one hard thrust he was inside me again. “Tell me, Tatum!”

  “Oh God, yes. Yes I can handle it.”

  And then the beast got unleashed.

  Gripping both my hips painfully, his fingers piercing my skin to try and keep me still, he started to pound into me. Faster and faster he pumped, his cock going deeper and deeper. Our bodies slapped together, sweat mixed with arousal pooling between our bodies. It was a fucking war, the battle of bodies trying to push each other over the edge with ruthless delight.

  “You never answered my question, Tatum.” More relentless thrusting, more hard pounding of flesh against flesh. “Did my brother fuck you the way you needed to be fucked?”

  “Jesus, Castello.”

  “Answer me!” His palm hit my ass and I jerked forward, an ache shooting up my arms, my shoulders screaming in pain.

  “No!”

  Then every ounce of pain radiating throughout my body crashed between my legs, threatening to erupt all the built-up pressure in an explosion of carnal decadence.

  “He didn’t,” I cried out. “Carlo didn’t fuck me the way I needed it…but you do. You. Fucking. Do.”

  Castello cursed and roared behind me, crying out, “Tu mi hai rovinato.” You have ruined me.

  My body shuddered as every nerve exploded into fragments of pleasure. We came together, his jerks working in unison with the throbbing inside my core as we splintered into pieces. Our loud moans slammed against his bedroom walls, filling the air with our labored breathing and gasping breaths.

  He didn’t stop flexing, thrusting in and out of me until the last tremors of our orgasms left our bodies, and even then there seemed to linger a kind of pleasure inside my veins that didn’t dissipate.

  I felt him pull out, my body immediately mourning the loss. The blindfold got pulled off, and he started with the collar around my neck, taking it off before un-clicking my wrists from the bounds that were hanging from the ceiling.

  Slowly, gently he eased my arms down, my shoulders complaining from a stiff ache that made it impossible to bring my arms down fast.

  The second I stood upright, my legs buckled. My
body was limp and numb with exertion and pleasure. Never in my life had I felt this satiated, this satisfied…and fucking high.

  Castello swept me up in his arms, stopping me from collapsing to the ground in a puddle of twisted pleasure. The chains were still bound around my wrists and my ankles as he carried me over to the bed that stood proud in the middle of his bedroom.

  I moaned as my body welcomed the soft feel of the sheets beneath my skin.

  “Rest, bella,” he whispered while untying the other chains. The second I closed my eyes, my body drifted as aftershocks of my release still pulsed through my veins. I felt him gently ease my legs apart, softly rubbing a warm towel between my thighs.

  I moaned, nuzzling my cheek deeper into the pillow. Strong, yet caring hands rubbed over the now tender flesh of my ass, the cooling effect of the salve feeling like heaven against my skin. The way his touch caressed my body, it was like sex after sex, the most amazing feeling I have ever felt. He was so hard on my body, showing no mercy—yet here he was with his soft caresses as if he was now worshipping my body.

  My breathing slowed, my body relaxed, and I knew sleep was here to claim me. The mattress dipped behind me.

  “Tu mi hai rovinato, donna.”

  I smiled as the Italian words left my mouth in a whisper, “Mi hai liberato.”

  You set me free.

  20

  CASTELLO

  Something was happening, and I didn’t have a clue what. All I knew was that it scared the shit out of me. Tatum Linscott was sleeping in my bed, and by God she has never looked more beautiful. For months I tracked her, had her followed, kept tabs on her, and she’s been my captive for how long now. But I’ve never seen her look as stunning as she did now with her golden hair splayed over my silk sheets. Lying on her stomach with her arms tucked underneath the pillow, she seemed relaxed, like she was actually sleeping peacefully. How was that even possible for her to seem so peaceful when she’d been surrounded by nothing but fear and lies and promises of pain and death? Yet here she was, sleeping like a goddamn angel.

  Me, on the other hand, I was everything but peaceful. There was this gnawing feeling on the inside of my chest, the same word echoing through my mind.

  Protect.

  Protect.

  Protect.

  Every one of my thoughts contained that damn word. How did I go from thinking the word ‘kill’ to thinking the word ‘protect’ whenever I thought of her? Just because I fucked her didn’t mean that she now magically fell under my protection, that I owed her anything. I’m still the man I was when Vico brought her in. I’m still the man whose mission was to get revenge and make sure that my brother’s murder didn’t go unpunished.

  Yet while I listened to her slow, rhythmic breathing next to me I had the overwhelming urge to wrap her up in my arms and fuck up anyone who tried to get near her.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  With a heavy sigh I got out of bed before I acted on this ridiculous urge by wrapping my arms around her like some sort of scene out of a goddamn romance novel. God knows this wasn’t a romance.

  Deciding that I needed a shower to try and wash away all these unwelcome feelings that had no place inside my chest or head, I locked myself in the bathroom. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror, the side of my face without the scar—the side that looked like a goddamn blueprint of my twin brother. We were as identical as twins could be, and up until the day I got that scar, only our parents could distinguish between the two of us. No one got close enough to notice my elongated pupil, something my brother didn’t have. We were the same, until the fight happened.

  My twin brother had the tendency to go after things he couldn’t have, including women—which meant that they usually belonged to someone else. Unfortunately I got mistaken for my brother and had to take the beating in the form of a beer bottle to the side of my face. I was lucky that I didn’t lose my eye. Since then my brother and I could have been told apart simply by looking for the brother with the scarred eye.

  Turning toward the mirror I stared at my full reflection. Did Tatum see my scar? Or did she see my brother whenever she looked at me? How in love with Carlo was she really? How long had they been together? Did she tell him that she loved him? Did he tell her that he loved her?

  Oh my God, I was going out of my fucking mind.

  I turned on the shower and got it. Naturally the second I felt the water cascade down over me my mind drifted to when Tatum was in here with me. Her slippery body moving against mine, her wet pussy riding my fingers like her fucking life depended on it. And it seemed like the more I had her, experienced her, the more I wanted her. In no time at all she had managed to make me doubt everything, stirred up all these questions for which I’ve never wanted answers before.

  Why did it suddenly seem like I wanted her more than I wanted revenge? How was it possible that I no longer had this deep rooted need to avenge my brother’s death, but instead that need got replaced with a desire to claim her over and over again?

  “Fuck!” I slammed my fist against the tiled wall. There was no pain. Just the ache still eating my chest from the inside out. What the fuck was I supposed to do now? How could I still kill this woman when my body demanded that I keep her?

  I got out of the shower and glanced at my reflection one last time while towel drying my hair.

  Did I really want to risk everything for a woman who might not even be seeing me, but rather the brother that looked like me? Was it really worth it, to take that chance, to sacrifice everything? What if I had it all wrong about her, that she was only playing me—playing the role I wanted her to play in order to save herself? I’d look like a fool.

  I sighed. The real issue wasn’t whether she trusted me—which she didn’t, but it was whether I trusted her—which I didn’t. In other words, I was damned if do, and completely fucked if I didn’t.

  Feeling like I had the world, the heavens and hell on my shoulders, I walked out of the bathroom, but then balked.

  The bed was empty.

  Fuck!

  “Tatum?” My heart started to pound against my ribs, the longest string of f-bomb’s flooding my mind.

  “Tatum!” She ran. Motherfucker. She ran.

  “Shit.”

  I bolted for the bedroom door ready to blow a fucking horn if it meant getting every goddamn person in this household to look for her.

  “Castello?”

  I froze, my hand already reaching for the doorknob, the sound of that voice sending a wave of relief over me. Slowly I turned around, and saw her standing by the window. Her naked body was slightly hidden by the curtains, but my heart nearly leapt out of my fucking chest.

  “My God, Tatum.” I let out a breath as I stalked toward her.

  She smiled—she actually fucking smiled. “Did you think I ran?”

  I stopped two steps behind her. “Yeah. I kind of did.”

  “And where do you think I’d run to?” She turned back to look out the window and I couldn’t stop myself from taking those last two steps to close the distance between us. She sucked in a breath when I pushed my body against hers, the electricity of our attraction buzzing between us.

  “Away from me,” I whispered as I nuzzled my nose into her golden blonde hair, loving her sweet scent.

  She leaned her head back against my shoulder. “Maybe I don’t want to run away from you.”

  “You should.”

  “Maybe. But where to?” She turned to face me. “After what I just experienced with you, where would I run? I’ll never have what we just shared with anyone else ever again. So tell me, Castello, where could I go that would actually be worth running away from you?”

  Her sapphire eyes twinkled with an ocean of unshed tears, and I caved. I finally caved giving in to the urge by grabbing her arm and pulling her against my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around her. And the second I did, my entire world shifted.

  My need to protect her rather than ruin
her shook the very foundation I had built the last few months of my life on. What if my mother was wrong? What if Carlo really did love her? God only knew that if this woman was capable of making me feel something, she was capable of making Carlo fall in love with her. The thought of Carlo loving her, touching her, making love to her slammed against my chest, and I wanted to roar like a fucking animal, and claw through the skin of every motherfucker who had ever touched her.

  Right now I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew without a doubt that I needed to do something.

  “Tatum.” I pulled my fingers through her hair before urging her to look up at me. “I know you don’t trust me, but I need you to.”

  “Why?”

  “Just, trust me. The less you know the better. All I ask is that you do what I tell you.”

  She shrugged. “Isn’t that what I’ve been doing all along? Being obedient?”

  I took her chin between my fingers and lifted her mouth toward mine. “If what you’ve been doing all along is what you call obedience, I can’t wait to find out what your definition of defiance is.”

  Our lips touched, softly, gently, like a slow dance of seduction. Her warm breath mixed with mine, our tongues lightly brushing, caressing, it felt like we were drifting into a world where nothing else existed, only us.

  My body hummed, my cock twitched. I wanted her. I wanted all of her all the goddamn time. But time was not on our side, and I needed to get her back to her room before the house started to buzz with life.

  With heavy reluctance I pulled my lips from hers. And when the slightest of moans came from her mouth, I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from tossing her over my shoulder, carrying her to the goddamn bed and claiming that sweet little piece of heaven between her legs until my name was engraved on her motherfucking soul.

  “I need to take you back to your room.” I glanced to the torn black nightgown on the floor, then to the white shirt I tossed next to it. “Here.” I grabbed the shirt and handed it to her. “At least this will cover a little more.”

  Her heart shaped lips curved into a wicked grin, teasing, commanding me to kiss them again. “I went from washed out rag to a silk nightgown, and now one of the Boss’s shirts. Seems like I’m moving up in the world.”