Undone_House of Sin

by Elisabeth Naughton

  “You’re weak. You’re a disappointment. You’re nothing, and now everyone knows it.

  “Hear me closely, son. I’m done with your shit. You’ll fall in fucking line, or I will destroy you and all that you hold dear, including that pretty wife of yours. And before you go cursing me for being a monster, you’d better face one cold hard reality: You’re every bit the monster I am. I created you. Salvatici blood runs hot through your veins, just as it does mine. And no matter how hard you fight it, you will never be free of it. You are never going to escape your destiny.”

  “Luc,” Natalie whispered, staring up at me. “None of what happened was your fault. I want you. I love you. Let me show you how much.”

  “You want me?”

  She nodded. “Desperately.”

  Something inside me snapped. No one should want me. No sane woman could want me after what I’d done. Especially someone who was supposed to love me.

  All I saw was red. Red and a blinding rage fueled by whispers and lies and ugly truths that pushed me forward.

  I tossed her onto the bed face-first. She hit the mattress on her hands and knees with a gasp, tried to push up, but I didn’t let her. I shoved her flat, and holding her still with one hand, I glanced around, looking for anything I could use to restrain her.

  I spotted the robe Marco had left at the foot of my bed days ago but which I’d ignored.

  Releasing her long enough to yank the tie free of the robe, I grabbed it and came back. She was already on her hands and knees, but I shoved her flat again, then reached for her arms and yanked them toward the headboard.

  “Luc, what are you doing? Wait. Why are you...? Hold on a second and just talk to m—”

  “You said you wanted me.” I looped the end of the sash around the metal headboard and pulled tight. “This is me.”

  “I... I do want you, but you don’t have to tie me up. I want to touch you. I want to make love with yo—”

  “I told you on our first night together that I don’t make love.” I scooted behind her and yanked the leggings straight down her body. “You seem to have forgotten that.” I dropped her leggings on the floor and palmed her ass on both sides. “It’s time I reminded you just what I’m good for. What did you call me in Rome?”

  “Luc—”

  “Say it.” I nudged her knees apart and slapped my hand against her right cheek, the sound echoing through the room as she jumped. “I want to hear you say the word.”

  I slipped my hand between her legs to find her already wet and swollen, a response that lit me up and fueled that rage inside me even higher. “Say the word, Natalie, or I’ll spank this ass until it’s nice and red.”

  “Oh God.” She dropped her head into the pillow and rocked back against my hand, never once making any move to try to get away, another reaction that made me even hotter. “Y-you... I called you a...a beast.”

  “That’s right.” I leaned over her back, slipped my hand into her shirt, and palmed her breast. “I am a beast.” I slid my fingers through her wetness, teasing her clit. “I’ve always been a beast.”

  “Yes.” She rocked back into my hand. “Yes, I like that.”

  “You want more?”

  She nodded and gripped the sash tied around her wrists. “More. Please. I want you.”

  She didn’t want me. Not like this. She couldn’t. I twisted her nipple and pressed two fingers deep into her slick channel, wanting to prove that to her, wanting to punish her for getting close to me, wanting to pleasure her intensely until she came all around my fingers.

  The emotions swirling inside me made no sense. Caused my head to pound. Were making me so fucking hot and crazy and mad at the same time.

  “I’ve always been a beast,” I growled, pumping into her while teasing her clit with my thumb, driven by some primal urge I didn’t understand. One pushing me to punish and claim her all at the same time. “You just made the mistake of thinking you could tame me. But we both know the truth now. I’m brutal and I’m savage, just as I told you I would be. And you were dumb enough not to listen.”

  I thrust harder, rubbing that spot so far inside, her whole body shook. And I both loved and hated that she was so responsive to my touch, that she didn’t try to push me away, that she was willing to let me do whatever deranged thing I wanted to do to her.

  “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” I pinched her nipple while I thrust again and again. “A hard, fast fuck. That’s why you won’t leave me alone. So take it. Take all of it. We both know that’s all I’m good for.”

  “No.” She gasped. Arched her back. Tightened around me. “That’s...that’s not all. I...I want you. Not...sex.”

  “Bullshit. You want to come. Say it.”

  “Oh...” She pressed her forehead against the mattress. Couldn’t keep from pressing back against my hand. “Luc...”

  I knew the signs. I knew she was right on the edge. And somewhere deep in my soul I despised her for that. For wanting me—this—when we both knew she shouldn’t. When I couldn’t even stand the sight of myself in the mirror.

  “Say it,” I hissed again. “Beg the beast to let you come.”

  “Luc—”

  “Say it,” I snapped.

  “Oh God.” She braced her weight on her elbows and rocked back into me in time with my thrusts. “Please...please make me come. Please...”

  I pummeled that spot again and again, rubbing it hard with both fingers. And when her climax hit, I didn’t just hear her release in her cries of ecstasy, I felt it in the way her channel spasmed around my fingers and her pussy gushed with fluid.

  She collapsed onto the bed, a sweaty mess of twisted clothing and wild hair. I pulled my fingers free of her tempting body and stared down at her, struggling to breathe in the darkness, her hands still bound above her head so she couldn’t move, the lower half of her body naked from what I’d just done to her. But instead of the satisfaction I’d expected to feel over making her beg, in proving to both of us I was every bit the monster my father had said I was, my lungs grew tight, and an excruciating pain seized my chest, almost as if someone had reached between my ribs, wrapped a hand around my heart, and twisted again and again.

  “Luc.”

  She exhaled and turned her head toward me, but with her arms locked above her head, she couldn’t see me, and I was glad for that. Glad because a rising panic was suddenly growing inside me now that my anger was slacked. One that was stronger than what had consumed me a week ago in that bathroom. One that made it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to fucking move.

  I swallowed with difficulty, managed to lean forward and free the restraint from her wrists, but that was as far as I could go. The fight was leaving me. I felt nothing but weakness. In my legs. In my arms. In every inch of my traitorous body. I managed to scoot back, away from her hands and face, but halfway down the mattress was as far as I made it before the shakes hit.

  Fuck...

  My eyes grew hot. I was going to fucking lose it, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop that from happening. I wouldn’t even have time to get to the bathroom to hide this time. And she was the last person in the world I wanted to witness my breakdown.

  “Luc?”

  “Don’t.” Somehow, I managed to throw an arm out and press my palm against her lower spine, preventing her from rolling toward me. “Don’t look at me. I-I can’t take it.”

  She stilled against the mattress. Didn’t try to roll toward me. But in the silence, as I fought with everything that was in me to hold it together, I heard her whisper, “You’re wrong. You’re not like them. You’re mine, and I’m not giving up on you. I love you. Every part of you. Always.”

  I broke. Completely shattered. Including what little pride I had left inside me.

  Chapter Six

  Natalie

  Things weren’t supposed to seem quite so grim in the light of day. Rolling to my back in the big bed in Luc’s room, I stared across the empty mattress in the early morning sun
shine coming through the windows and fought back useless tears I was not about to give in to again.

  Whoever had come up with that bullshit had never encountered the hell of House Salvatici.

  I pushed to sitting and brushed the unruly curls back from my face. I wasn’t sure when Luc had left this bed, but it was pretty clear he still wanted nothing to do with me. For over a week, he’d hidden out in this room, desperate to keep his distance from me. Then last night, after I’d pressured him to deal with me, he had—in an unexpected way. I still wasn’t sure how things had resulted in rough, dirty sex, but I wasn’t complaining. I liked when he touched me—hard and rough or soft and sweet, I didn’t care. I loved every way he touched me. I just didn’t like that he’d run as soon as I’d fallen asleep.

  A hollow feeling filled my chest as I glanced down at the rumpled sheets. Except...that hadn’t been mutual sex. He hadn’t gotten any pleasure from it. That had been fueled by his anger and self-loathing and some twisted need to prove to me and himself that he was as vile and degenerate as the monsters in his House.

  My own anger pulsed inside me as I threw back the covers, found my leggings on the floor, and pulled them on. I despised his House for what they’d done to him. I detested how it had messed with his mind. And I blamed his parents for his suffering, for the way he was blaming himself for something that had been completely out of his control. But I wasn’t going to let him do this to himself, to me—to us. I wasn’t going to let him push me away. He needed me, dammit. He needed me even if he didn’t think he did. And I needed him. So damn much. If I lost him...

  Just the thought made me stumble. I gripped the hallway wall for support, gasping against the pain suddenly stabbing into my heart. No. I swallowed back the stupid tears. There had to be a way to get through to him. To prove that he wasn’t what he thought. To show him that I still loved him. That I always would.

  Somehow I made it to my room where I brushed my teeth and fixed my hair as best I could. When I felt steadier, I headed downstairs, intent on finding Luc and talking to him about last night.

  The kitchen was empty. I shivered beneath my sweatshirt as I wove through the living area, formal dining room, office, library and solarium, but still found nothing. My nerves jangled as I circled back to the kitchen but I told myself not to panic—at least not yet.

  The property was big. It was possible he’d just stepped outside to get some air. Grabbing the cordless phone from the kitchen counter, I jogged up to the third level where the upper balcony gave me a good view of the grounds, and dialed the security station at the main gate.

  Dexter, a middle-aged man with dark hair graying at the temples whom I’d talked to a handful of times over the last week, answered on the first ring. “Yes, Mrs. Salvatici? What can I help you with?”

  I wasn’t sure how he knew it was me, but I didn’t feel like asking. “Hi, Dexter. I was just curious if you saw Mr. Salvatici leave the property in a vehicle or on foot?”

  “He did not exit through the main gate,” he answered in his clipped British accent. “I’m checking the grounds cameras now. Ah, there he is. He’s on the beach. South end of the property.”

  “Beach?” Panic twisted inside me as I pushed the balcony doors open on the third level and shivered in the cool October air. It was a hell of a lot colder here than it had been in Italy. “He’s not swimming, is he?”

  Please don’t be swimming... He’d freeze out there.

  “No, madam. He’s wearing tennis shoes and gym shorts. Appears he was jogging. Will there be anything else, madam?”

  Jogging? Luc hadn’t stepped foot out of his bedroom in a week, and now he was running? “No.” I managed. “That will be all. Thank you, Dexter.”

  “Anytime, madam.”

  The line clicked off in my ear. Wrapping my arms around my waist, I moved farther out onto the balcony and scanned the grounds, searching the southern end of the property for any sign of Luc. Just as Dexter had said, he was on the beach, wearing nothing but shorts and tennis shoes. But he wasn’t running. He was standing with his hands on his hips, breathing deeply, staring out at the waves rolling against the shore.

  I watched him for several moments, part of me afraid he might walk right out into that water and disappear from my life for good. But he didn’t. He just ran his fingers through his hair, bent forward to rest his hands on his knees, and stared at the water as if it held the secrets of the universe.

  Everything inside me screamed to go to him. To wrap my arms around him. To comfort him. He was clearly struggling with himself, with what had happened between us last night. But I sensed if I did, he’d only push me away again. And I wasn’t going to give him another reason to do that.

  A gust of wind blew past my face, making me shiver once more. Storm clouds were rolling in, threatening rain. As much as I wanted to go on watching Luc, I was too cold. So I went back inside, closed the door, and headed for the kitchen, figuring food was a good place to start for both of us. He’d be hungry after he came back, and I needed energy if I was ever going to come up with a way to get through to the man.

  He stayed outside for another thirty minutes, and I knew he had to be freezing. But when the kitchen door opened and he stepped into the room, he didn’t look cold. His jaw was hard, his eyes as dark as I’d ever seen them, and there was an air of restlessness about him I couldn’t define. One that made me think he hadn’t even noticed the temperature out there on that beach.

  “Hey,” I said, looking up from the scrambled eggs I was just finishing. “Good timing. This is almost ready.”

  He didn’t look at me, just stepped past me and mumbled, “I’m not hungry.”

  I flipped the burner off, moved the pan to a cool spot on the stove, and turned toward him. He was pouring himself a cup of coffee at the far counter, the red slash marks across his back angry and raised from the cold outside, reminding me just what kind of torture he’d been through at the hands of those monsters. “You have to eat. If you don’t want eggs, I could make you toast or cereal. I’m pretty sure there’s oatmeal in the—”

  “I said I’m not hungry, dammit. Stop badgering me.”

  I pursed my lips as I stared at his back. My heart contracted even though part of me wanted to fight fire with fire and lash out at him. There was so much anger inside him, I wasn’t sure how I’d ever thought breakfast was a good idea.

  He rested both hands on the counter and dropped his head. Then he drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I just...don’t feel like eating.”

  His quiet voice surprised me. “It’s okay.”

  He stood still for several seconds, facing the counter, then said, “And, I’m sorry about last night. That won’t happen again.”

  He turned for the stairs with his coffee, but something in the center of my chest told me not to let him go. Not like this.

  “Hold on.” I stepped in his path, preventing him from reaching the steps. “I...”

  He drew to an abrupt stop several feet away from me, and I twisted my hands together because now that I was in front of him, I wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t looking at me. I could tell he didn’t want to look at me. But I was desperate to reach him. And then I remembered something Felicity and I had talked about before she’d left. And even though it was probably really bad timing, I didn’t care. I was desperate.

  “I...I know you’re probably not very hungry. I’m not either. I just...we need to talk, Luc.”

  “We have nothing to talk about.”

  He tried to step around me, but I moved in his way once more. “Okay, if you don’t want to talk, then I’ll do the talking. We can’t keep avoiding each other.”

  “I don’t have time for this. I need to take a shower.”

  “Make time. Until we face everything that happened, it’s just going to keep festering between us.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do.�
�� When he tried to brush past me, I moved into the stairwell, blocking his exit. “You’re not the only one who was there, Luc. I was there, too.”

  “Which is why we don’t need to fucking talk about it. Ever,” he growled from between clenched teeth.

  “I don’t agree. If you don’t want to talk to me, then you need to talk to someone. Felicity left the name of a good psychiatr—”

  “A shrink?” He moved back several steps. “No fucking way.”

  “Therapists can be extremely helpful in situations like this.”

  His jaw turned to a slice of steel beneath his skin, and he turned away from me. “Situations like this,” he muttered.

  “You know what I’m talking about.” My heart pinched. “What they did to you. The rape.”

  He chuckled, but there was no humor in his voice, and the sound sent a chill straight down my spine. “You are so fucking naïve.”

  “I’m not naïve.” My back went up, but I fought to keep my own temper in check. I realized he was hurting, but I was his champion, not his punching bag. “I saw what they did to you. I was there. I—”

  “You saw what you wanted to see.”

  “That’s not true. I—”

  “Porca troia.” He hurled his coffee cup against the cabinet. The ceramic shattered into a dozen pieces, making me jump, and coffee splattered against the cabinets and floor as he rounded on me with eyes as dark and stormy as they’d ever been. “I agreed to it, okay? I agreed to let those kittens fuck me, and I agreed to the goddamn beating after. You can’t rape a willing participant, and I was willing. I even came when she was fucking me. Do you understand now? I’m not a goddamn victim, and I don’t need to talk to any stupid shrink. And if you had any sense in that stubborn head of yours, you’d get the fuck out of my life while you still can. I’m no better than any of the degenerate men in my House. If you didn’t know that last week when you watched me fuck that kitten in front of you, then you should have figured it out last night.”