"Don't lie to me," Marzia grits out, leaning against my neck to whisper in the shell of my ear. "I know you can't resist me..."
She's right, but I'm not about to blow my cover in front of her. So instead, I just shift her from my lap to the bed and pace the room to check whether the door is locked. I can feel the tension between us growing as I click the door shut.
"You can't get away from me now," I tell Marzia darkly. "Does that scare you?"
"No." She shakes her head, but she doesn't look so sure.
I take a step closer, taunting her by pressing my thumb to her lips. She opens her mouth and sucks it, and I marvel at how much sluttier she's gotten just for me. I'm making her into the perfect plaything, and all the while coming to terms with the fact that I can't keep her.
I close my eyes firmly. I can't think about losing her right now. She's still here, helpless before me, eager for more of my abuse. Who am I to keep that from her? She deserves to get hurt, if that's what she so desperately wants.
"You should take your dress off," I tell her.
"You should take it off me yourself."
"No," I grunt. "I want you to strip for me. Everything you do tonight, do it like it's the last time we're together. Like it's the last time you get to experience this."
"Why?"
"Because it might as well be," I growl. "Neither of us knows when father will force us apart. But this won't last forever. I'll have to get married soon, and then I won't be allowed to see you."
She pouts, but doesn't argue.
A wave of affection for her washes over me but I force it to the back of my mind. I don't do affection, and I sure as fuck, can't keep feeling it for her. Not when it goes directly against Father's wishes.
Still, I can't bring myself to tear my eyes away from Marzia as she shimmies out of her dress and the glittery fabric pools at her feet. She's distractingly beautiful and my cock refuses to pay attention to me anymore. I'm now fully under Marzia's spell, watching every move with my hands tightened into fists to prevent me from reaching out and claiming her already, minutes into this.
She's not wearing anything underneath her dress. Marzia stands before me in nothing but the heels I picked out for her, and I feel my blood boiling as I watch her. The thought of anyone else ever seeing her this way enrages me, and I have to force myself to breathe slowly. I can't let her go. I'll have to figure out a way to do that real fucking soon though, or I'll be in big trouble.
"I want you to suck my cock today," I tell her firmly.
Without waiting for further instructions, Marzia drops to her knees and begins crawling toward me.
The temptation to unzip and take out my cock is distracting, but I force myself to wait and pace myself.
She reaches me, shaky hands unzipping my pants and painfully taking out my cock slowly which is already throbbing for her. Marzia's fingers wrap around my girth, barely meeting. She lets out a moan as she begins stroking me.
"Spit on it," I instruct her. "Make it wet, make your hands glide."
She does as she's told. My cock is covered now, and her hands are moving easily while her eyes lock with mine. Marzia wants this just as much as I do. It seems she's stopped fighting the inescapable attraction between us, which is fucking good. I don't want to force her to be with me... I want her to want it with the same desperation I do. Of course, as long as she doesn't find out I share those feelings. I can't risk her getting big-headed in case she finds out how much I want her, too.
"Take it in your mouth," I mutter next, hands tangling in her mane of hair. Her updo has long since come apart. I tug at the pins holding it in place, making her hair tumble down her back in silky waves and it just makes my cock even harder. She's perfect in every way, apart from the fact that she's beyond fucking wrong for me, and Father wants me with somebody else. "Marzia, suck it. I'm done waiting."
She keeps her eyes locked with mine as she tentatively licks my tip, filling her mouth with the taste of me and groaning when she feels it hit her tongue. She really gets to work then, sucking, licking and bringing me closer and closer to the edge of madness.
I have to resist the urge to bury my cock all the way down her throat.
It would be so fucking easy to overpower her. But what surprises me more is that I don't want to. I want to keep fucking her, but not just because I can—because we both want it. I'm getting more and more turned on by Marzia's soft little moans. I can tell she's loving this. It's obvious from the way her eyes roll back every time my cock jerks on her tongue.
"Keep eating it," I growl at her. "Put it as far as you can down your throat, Marzia. Don't make me wait, I'm not feeling patient tonight."
She lets out a mewl as she sucks me in deeper, her tongue swirling in circles around my tip. She's so fucking eager for my cum, she's prepared to do anything to get it out of me.
I fully intend on taking advantage of that.
Grabbing an empty ashtray for cigars from my table, I give it to her with a wicked grin. "Jerk me off into the bowl."
"Cazzo," Marzia hisses. "You want me to put your cum in an ashtray?"
"It's clean."
"I don't care, you—"
I wave my cock before her.
Marzia's eyes darken. Instantly, she forgets what she was complaining about. Her hand wraps around my girth again and she begins jerking me with a mesmerized expression.
She's clumsy, and I can tell she's only done this with me. I spend the next few minutes showing her how to touch me, how to jerk me, to get me to come. Marzia is an eager learner and seems mesmerized when the first drop of precum rolls down my tip. Her eyes widen and she licks her lips hungrily.
"Taste it," I order her.
She looks at me as if to make sure I mean it before her tongue pushes out between her lips, licking the bead off the slit in my cock.
"You like it, bambina?"
"N-No," she stutters. I laugh out loud.
"You don't like it?" I smirk, pulling on my pants. "Well, maybe I should take it away then. Give it to somebody more grateful."
"No!" She cries out instantly, reassuring me of just how addicted she is to me. I let go of my cock and her fingers replace mine, eagerly working my length while her eyes meet mine, silently begging. "Don't you want to fuck me?"
"Not tonight," I mutter. "Tonight, I want to watch you lick it."
"But I—don't you want to..."
"Marzia, a good, obedient toy doesn't question her owner's wishes. Are you a good, obedient toy?"
I can see the battle raging behind her pretty eyes. She wants to deny it, but we both know it's the truth. She wants this as much as I do.
She doesn't answer me. Instead, she just begins jerking my cock even harder, holding up the ashtray as she brings me closer and closer to an inescapable climax.
I should tell her to stop. I should end this here and now. But Marzia is irresistible and try as I might to stop myself, I know it's a losing game. With a groan, I feel my cock getting closer and closer to the release I'm so desperate for.
Marzia picks up on it, jerking faster and with more intent. "Do you want to come?" she asks sweetly, reversing our roles.
"You better fucking make me," I grunt. "Right now, Marzia..."
She lets out another moan as she continues working me. Finally, I feel myself letting go. "Fuck, Adrian, please. I want it. Give it to me."
"Only if you promise to lick it all up," I growl. "All. Of. It. I don't want you to miss a single drop. Fucking got it?"
"Yes," she breathes. "Please, don't stop, please give it to me..."
It doesn't take much of her begging to make me come. I let her massage my cock and fill the ashtray up with my seed.
Marzia watches, eyes wide as I spurt rope after rope of cum, filling her little dish. She pulls back with shaky hands. Her eyes are no longer locked on my cock. She's looking at the ashtray now.
"Aren't you going to clean it up for me?" I ask.
She shivers. Tentatively, Marzia sticks her
tongue out between her lips. She starts to lick the cold metal, her tongue making contact with my seed.
I groan at the sight. I could come again, just watching her play with my cum like this. "Good girl," I mutter as she continues to clean the ashtray and I absent-mindedly stroke my cock. "Such a fucking good girl, Marzia. Keep going, you're going to make me explode again..."
26
Marzia
I spend the night in Adrian's bedroom. He holds me as I sleep and I relish the feeling of his body against mine. It feels like we're running out of time. Like all of this could be ripped away from us at any moment.
When I wake up in the morning, Adrian is gone, and Eleanora is already waiting for me to take me back to my room. Luckily, we don't run into anyone on the way there.
I get ready, taking a shower and washing off the memories of the previous night. Putting on a dress, I report to Bruno's office for the work I've started doing for him.
But Bruno isn't there.
A maid explains he has some meetings to deal with, but I'm free to work in his office while I wait for him to finish up. I begin sorting through the papers and start to work on the business plan Bruno wanted me to prepare. It's my first time doing anything like this and I still feel a bit lost, but I'm determined to impress Adrian's father.
It takes me an hour to realize I'm here, alone in Bruno's office.
This could be a test... but it could also be an opportunity for me to find something useful, let my brother and Vitto know about it.
My guilt threatens to eat me up whole. I know I should do what my brother would want me to do, which is get the hell out of here. But at the same time, I'm painfully aware Bruno's been kind to me. He's offered his support, he's made me feel welcome, and he's even letting me help out with my family company.
The thought that his office is probably under surveillance is also disturbing. The last thing I want is to get busted. I know both Bruno and Adrian would make me pay dearly if they found out what I'm thinking about.
I continue my work in peace. I decide not to dig through Bruno's things. Something tells me this is a test and I want to pass it with flying colors.
I finish up my work quietly before retreating to my room with Eleanora walking behind me. I don't get a moment alone in the Estate, not unless I'm alone in my quarters. Otherwise, there's always someone watching me. I suppose that's my fault too though, for trying to run the first time.
Lunch is a lonely affair, but afterward, I'm surprised by Eleanora pointing through the window, outside.
"Am I allowed to leave?" I ask.
She nods at me with a faint smile.
The thought excites me, makes me wonder what to do with this newfound freedom. I'm guessing it's my reward for something—except I don't know whether I got it from Adrian or Bruno.
Gathering my painting supplies, Eleanora and I walk through the estate. I find the rose garden again and set up my easel and canvas. I was inspired when I was here before. I want to paint this, immortalize the scene before me.
Mixing paints is messy work.
Eleanora lingers close enough to see what I'm up to while I prepare my canvas.
I start painting with messy strokes then get more and more detailed every time my paintbrush touches the blank canvas. Soon enough, not a single white spot remains on the painting. I'm lost in thought to the scene before me, committed to making it come to life on the easel before me.
"That's beautiful."
I turn around, surprised.
Eleanora doesn't speak, so who's interrupting me?
My eyes land on her—my arch nemesis. She looks beautiful as ever with her pale blonde hair, porcelain skin and perfectly clear blue eyes. Something twists inside me. I want to hate Nicoletta so fucking much, but apart from being engaged to the man I'm obsessing over, she's done nothing to hurt me. She doesn't deserve me acting this way to her. She's innocent in all these sick, twisted mafia games—just like I am.
"Thanks," I mutter, still a little unsure on how to act around her.
"I didn't know you were a painter. I suppose that's why everyone loves you so much, given that the Bernardis are art dealers among...other things." A smile tugs on the corners of her lips.
"I don't think they like me."
"What do you mean?" She furrows her brows. "They all seem to adore you. You've even got Bruno wrapped around your little finger."
I scoff, saying, "I don't think so."
"You would be surprised. Adrian speaks kindly of you."
I want to fucking strangle her then. The thought of them having private conversations about me pisses me off. I don't want him to spend time with her. I don't want her to so much as say his name. I just want her to get lost and leave Adrian to the person that deserves him more—me.
"Do you mind if I join you?" she asks.
I want to say no, but I don't want to be rude. I know Bruno wouldn't approve of my smart mouth. I find myself nodding even though I'm desperate to tell Nicoletta to leave me alone.
"Thanks." She motions for a maid, and her own helper brings over a foldable chair.
I can't imagine anything worse than having my man's fiancée scrutinizing my work while I paint, but I got myself into this damn mess, so I keep my mouth shut and keep moving the paintbrush across the canvas.
At least Nicoletta is polite and doesn't chatter as I work. "You don't have to hate me, you know," Nicoletta finally says softly.
I turn around to look at her over my shoulder. "Why would I hate you?" I bite out.
"Just saying, you don't hate to." Her eyes burn with intelligence as they meet mine. "I think you and I are very similar."
Perhaps she isn't the helpless mafia princess I've written her off as. "Really?" I scoff. "How's that?"
"Well, I grew up very sheltered, too. I'm an only child just like you. But I never met my mother, she died when I was a baby," Nicoletta explains. "Father was determined to keep me as safe and protected as he could after that. This, here, is more freedom than I've been given my entire life."
"Oh," I manage lamely.
"I'm assuming you had a similar experience with your parents? Did they lock you up?"
It feels strange to hear her saying that. A part of me wants to defend my parents, but I also know there's no point in denying what they did to me, so I simply nod in response to her question.
"Were you allowed to have any friends? Pets?"
I shake my head.
She sighs. "I didn't, either, but I still took care of some kittens on the property. I don't think papa ever knew how impactful that was. I still feel very out of touch with other people."
"You seem plenty in touch with Adrian," I hiss, unable to stop myself.
Nicoletta's eyes sparkle with silent fire. "So do you. Don't think I haven't noticed."
I look away, so she won't see the tell-tale blush on my cheeks. "Noticed what?"
"How he looks at you. How he looks for excuses to spend time in your company. How important you are to him." She shrugs. "I have a lot of time to myself, so I think about stuff like that. A lot."
"Good for you," I mutter, turning my back to her, so she won't notice how hard I'm blushing. I put down the completed canvas of the rose garden and replace it with a fresh one with Eleanora's help. I refuse to interact with Nicoletta anymore.
A slash of red covers the canvas. I'm sure she'll notice how upset I am, throwing paint on paper like this, but I don't give a damn. Let her. Let her find out Adrian's sleeping with me behind her back. I want her world to crumple just like mine did when Bruno killed my parents and Adrian brought me to this godforsaken place.
I don't paint with a motive in mind. I just slash the paper with strokes of color that speak volumes about my mood. Bright, painfully bright splashes of red, black and white cover the canvas before me. It's a mess. I've never painted like this. Like I need it, like its therapy.
I don't stop until I'm finished. Finally, what feels like hours later, the paintbrush falls from my hand a
nd I stare at the completed painting. It makes no sense. It's a fucking mess. But I feel so much better. As if a weight has lifted off my shoulders.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I tense up again when I feel a hand landing on my shoulder.
Nicoletta is standing next to me, admiring the completed canvas. "You must've felt really angry," she says, her voice soft. "This painting really speaks volumes."
I want to tell her to get her hand off me. I want to tell her to get the fuck lost and never speak to me again. I don't do either of those things. Instead, I turn to face her, my eyes meeting hers.
"I could use a friend around here," Nicoletta goes on with a small smile. "This is a house full of men. We could be each other's allies. We could help each other."
What she's offering is tempting, but how can I ever be friends with someone who's set to marry the man I want for myself. Turning her offer over in my head, I struggle to find a reply. "I don't know if us being friends is very wise," I finally find myself saying. "I don't know if Bruno and Adrian would like it."
She wears a devilish smile as she shrugs, saying, "Who cares. They don't own us."
Maybe they don't own her... but they sure as fuck own me. Still, Nicoletta's offer is tempting. I tell myself I don't have to be her friend. I can just use her for my own advantage. Figure out a way to convince her to help me. Something tells me it won't be hard at all. She seems very lonely.
"I suppose we could try and be friendly," I mutter.
Nicoletta claps her hands with excitement. "Wonderful! I'll try to arrange for us to have breakfast together sometime. Maybe we could even spend some mornings together?"
I shake my head. "Not mornings. I work in Bruno's office in the morning."
"Signore Bernardi?"
I nod.
"He lets you call him Bruno?"
"Well, he never said I could, I just do it," I mutter.
She laughs. "Here I was, thinking I got everyone wrapped around my little finger," Nicoletta muses. "Turns out, you're way ahead of me. I'll see you soon, Marzia. Don't forget. We're friends now." She leaves with her maid.
Adrian's Vengeance: A Dark Mafia Romance Page 16
