“Why not?” he asks and stands up, only to crawl onto the bed. “I mean, we’re home alone, it’s just us two, and I know this won’t overdo it for me.” He waits for my reply, but I’m secretly cautious of being completely without my defenses. “You trust me, right, Sweetheart?” he asks, and I nod. “And you know I would never do anything to endanger you, yes?”
“Yes,” I comment as he crawls closer, our bodies within closer proximity than ever.
“Then trust me with this,” he tells me and takes one hand. I don’t reply; I just allow him to clasp the cuff around it. “Trust me to only make sure you’re happy when I get you like this,” he comments, slowly – and with ease – lifting my hand above my head, looping the chain of the cuffs around the black iron bed frame before reaching for my other hand. In the same manner, I keep my eyes on him as he lifts my arm up, and I comfortably allow him to restrain me.
When the final click sounds, he releases me, and my arms slack and remain poised above my head. I thought my incarceration at Zane’s will would unnerve me, but I’m waiting anxiously for what he’ll do next, enthrallment buzzing with every beat of my heart. With my hands tied, I wonder what he’ll do next to torture my needy body. Will he kiss me all over, only to sensitize me and give me a quick hard fuck? Or will this pleasure be a strewn-out journey to ecstasy?
Zane moves back down the bed, moving with agile motions to get to where he wants and when he grabs my legs, I know I’m in trouble. I have no time to refuse as he begins to lift them and soon I’m in a predicament I know will end with me calling his name. I’m not ready to be trapped with my legs up by my head, and my nakedness vulnerable to his every whim. I see a glint in his eyes, and I know my nerves are for a reason. He licks his lips at me.
“I think my morning breakfast just got served,” he teases, looking down seductively before giving me one last look as he moves forward.
“Don’t you da-” I get no time to finish my sentence as he crashes down onto my pussy and begins to lick with leisure.
At first, he had no plan, I could tell. All he wanted was to prove that I’m his victim. Now however, he’s taken to hitting my clitoris. He strikes it and I begin to fall hard. The first lick teases my arousal. The second tantalizes me. And the third, well, the third renders me Zane’s victim.
I can feel my orgasm building with rapid speed, and I worry about my sudden wetness, however, Zane moves only slightly and begins to lick at my opening, lapping up my juices. Apparently, he wanted me like this – dripping and all too eager.
I feel his tongue press into me, a totally different sensation than his cock filling me, but it’s gratifying in a way complete fulfilment isn’t. He plays my body as if it’s an instrument; finely turned and at his disposal. He toys and caresses me with gentle ease, yet masters the art of being firm and assertive with me all at once.
And as he works, I can feel my body becoming unbidden. My toes begin to curl; my legs bend more as I begin to arch against his mouth. The noises I emit are senseless, driven from me like a madman, and I fear when I explode my body will melt away with the heat of this arousal.
It takes a few more carefully executed flicks of his tongue before I give in and the rapture of ecstasy from my orgasm rips through my entire body, tightening it and arousing it furthermore all at once.
“Z-Zane,” I manage as my body quivers and shakes, even as he still continues to lick me out. My eyes roll closed at the gratification he has plied me with, I pull against the cuffs, my hands curling around them as I fall from seventh heaven quickly. My body begins to calm, stilling its movements, and my eyes remain closed as I feel Zane finally withdraw.
When I feel his weight shift, I finally open my eyes and feel completely spent already. I look down at him as he sits between my legs.
“You wanted me to have breakfast in bed, I got breakfast in bed,” he tells me, licking his lips before going down for another course.
All over again, my body works closer to that dangerous ledge. He licks and flicks and torments me with such sweet delight, and my body listens and responds to his every motion. It doesn’t matter that it’s about to fall complete prey to him or that it’ll be his casualty all over again, it just listens and tiptoes toward that golden end. This time, like the first, I worry about how soaking I am, but Zane seems to have no worries with any of it, just enjoys weakening me.
“Fuck,” I groan as my body falls apart.
I buck against him, but he grasps tighter onto my legs to stop me from moving much. I just convulse with sheer contentment as complete indulgence claims me. This time when I calm, I’m a panting mess, and I can feel my legs want to shake. The aftermath is delightful, and I can feel the endorphins rush around my body. I lay in wait to see what Zane will do next – leave me be or go for thirds. However, what he does surprises me more. He begins to dot kisses along my inner thigh until he’s sitting up enough to allow my legs to lower back down.
He just offers me a wickedly devilish grin when his gaze meets mine.
I cock a brow, ready to scold him for taking blatant advantage of my shortcomings. “I’m beginning to wonder if you’ve tied me up to make me easier on you. I mean, you still are physically impaired some, but this seems a little extreme.”
“It’s not to make you easier at all,” he comments, covering my entire body with his. “It’s to exert some damn male dominance. I get you defenseless and vulnerable, and it’s such a beautifully raw sight. I don’t want you tied and helpless always, just sometimes.” His eyes then morph before me, dangerously becoming overcast with how turned on he is at just the sight of me bound naked beneath him. But just as soon as I recognize the look, it disappears, and that cheeky twinkle glistens in his eyes. “And sometimes, Amelia, I want to fucking gag you just to stop that smart mouth of yours.”
“It adds to the sex appeal,” I muse, biting my lip in sexual anticipation. “Can’t live up to being a tease without it.”
He chuckles, sitting back a little to rub a hand around the back of his neck. “Believe me, Sweetheart, you don’t need to say a single word when you have that body of yours.”
I grin wildly at him, pleased with that comment. “I do prefer my smart mouth, though. Gets me into some eventful places sometimes. My body just adds to the attraction.” I wink and then wiggle a little, tugging at the handcuffs. “Now are we going to get real food or are you never releasing me?”
“The latter is tempting,” he muses, tapping a finger to his chin. “But I think I need your help with this hard on, so maybe a fuck then food?” His question is rhetorically spoken, and I love that he’s back in the act like he is.
“If so, can you please untie me,” I tell him, keeping my voice light and sarcastic. “I love to leave my mark.”
“Okay,” he says and begins to clamber up the bed. He reaches over to the bedside table, throws the drawer open, and picks out a key. “This time I will be untying you, but just so I can fuck you hard and not have to worry about cuff marks and hurting you. I just want you well fucked so you can remember how I feel when I buried ball deep inside you. You okay with that?”
“I would be if you would shut up and do as you say,” I retort snappily, trying to make him hurry up. “So, you don’t want to mark me, but you’re willing to allow me to leave claw marks down your back?”
“Masochist me, Sweetheart. We’ve been over this before.” he quips with an air of a sardonic nature.
He frees my arms and catches them via my wrist in his large hands only to gentle caress them where the metal bit into my skin a little. This doesn’t last as he works down the bed and yanks my body down a little toward him. I feel his hand on my hip, stroking around on my skin to lift my leg up and ready himself to push his erect length into me. I grip the sheets with stilted anticipation, my body cries for him and just as he thrusts fully into me – thick and hard – my cell begins to ring from the bedside table. Still buried deep inside me, Zane moves to peer over at the screen and groans out. I don’t need to
be told who’s spoiling the moment.
“Your father is a real mood killer,” Zane mumbles, unable to continue pulling out of me. “I’ve been hard all morning for you, now it’s limp as fuck.”
I sit up, Zane still between my legs, but with a look of petulance at the fact that clearly I’m going to be pulled away. As the phone continues to ring, I ignore it. I shift myself a little closer to him, my hands running up his thighs. “I’ll help harden it up later.” I then give him a straight smile, trying to make him feel better. “If not, I know a man who does a potent batch of Viagra.”
“You little bitch,” Zane muses, mirth filling his eyes. “Right, Daddy Abbiati can go fuck himself while I fuck you.”
I don’t have time to take in what’s happening as I go from teasing Zane to laying flat on my back with my hands locked in the handcuffs. I stupidly tug at the cuffs, thinking I’ll break free, but I’m trapped. When I revert my gaze to Zane, he looks at me with utmost amusement. I stare as Zane leans over only to flip the phone over and looks back at me. He looks ready to devour me as his hands prop himself up on either side of me and he covers my body with his.
“If he’s going to keep calling while I keep you here, I’m not having his face staring at me the entire time.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I bellow and resist the urge to tear my hair out.
My father has come back a monster. He’s on a continual rampage to find order, but he’s finding that it’s not all that easy. Sadly, the Dio Del Sangue doesn’t have the smarts to see the rebellion rippling under the surface of his otherwise perfect family. He’s full of integrity and grit, but he lacks the common sense to see that those right under his nose are far from happy.
And now he’s landed the ultimate insult – teaming me up with Giovanni.
“I’m not joking on this matter, Amelia,” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “This is happening whether you like it or not.”
“You’re treating me like I’m on probation or something,” I retort, my voice rising higher into a shrill, desperate cry. I resist screaming to get my own way because I see it won’t work. Becoming angry won’t do fuck all to get me away from my brother.
“You kind of are, Bambina,” my father states and releases his folded arms from his chest. He begins to pace a slow, steady trail back and forth across his office. “The way I see it is that by letting you go off and work alone, you’ve become complacent. You’ve deviated from all of your own teachings and from mine, and I think it’s time you got back to how you were.”
“It’s not that easy,” I comment dryly, perplexity unfolding within. “I’m not some student who needs teaching. I’ve deviated because I have a fucking conscience! You gave me a hit that was too big for me, and my conscience got the better of me. That’s on you, not me.”
“Now, now, now, Amelia,” my father chortles at me, “you’ve always had a conscience. You always questioned the life the men had outside of the kill, but Maverick had actually caused you pain. I had hoped he would have been your easiest kill. I mean, revenge is a dish best served cold, and he had been out of your life so long. Your feelings for him should be at their coldest.”
“Are yours for Madre?” I ask him, glad for the distance as red-hot anger unfurls from within him. The reaction causes me to smirk. “Didn’t think so.”
“You would do well to remember what happened the last time you used her against me,” my father grounds out between clenched jaws.
“I, also, remember it did fuck all to keep me in line,” I counter and look between my father and brother. “Now, who are we killing? Because the sooner I get this over and done with, the better for my sanity.”
“Not so fast,” my father diminishes my hopes of a quick kill. “It’s going to be a long night for you, Bella.”
My brow furrows, wondering what else could happen in one evening. “Why?”
“There’ll be a family meeting in order to sort Manuel out tomorrow.” He applies a heavy glare to me, appalled at more deceit over Manuel’s recent betrayal.
It doesn’t take a genius to realize that Giovanni did what he always said he would.
“No,” I gasp, my breathing stolen as I realize our own family betrayal. “You absolute fucking asshole!” I look at Giovanni who stands with the biggest smile on his face. I’m sickened at his enjoyment of torturing his own siblings. It breaks my heart that he can do this to us and still sleep easy. “Why?”
He shrugs and begins to laugh. The arrogance riles me more, and I have to restrain from reaching my boiling point. Most of the corruption we face is at Giovanni’s hands because he chooses the wrong allies. He isn’t run by love. He’s run solely on power, and he gets that because our father allows it.
“Delinquents don’t make for a strong family,” Giovanni asserts, and I can feel the dagger of his words hit me, too.
“Twisted bastards don’t either!” I retort, my throat tightening on me. “He’s done nothing wrong.”
“Yet,” my father states, shaking his head with dismay, “I want this nipped in the bud before anyone finds out about Manuel’s sexuality. I do not raise weak men, and homosexuality is a high sign of that. It’s unnatural within in the Dio Lavoro.”
“Screw the Dio Lavoro,” I state, agitation ripping through me. “He’s still your son! It’s doesn’t make him a disappointment!”
I wonder when it became so wrong to love the person your heart desired. I’m astounded at how hard it is to love the one you want because your family would think it sinful. I’m fearful at what future we are really headed for if we aren’t allowed to be free with our hearts. First me, now Manuel – apparently no one’s safe.
“If anything, you two are the biggest disappointments I see in this family,” I assert my hate of them more. “You are the most bigoted, homophobic, fucked-up men ever!” I know I have to leave. I’m being suffocated by their attitudes, and I want nothing more than to escape. However, as I turn to go, my father calls my name, and I turn back to face him. “What?”
“You should know that by the end of tonight, Zane Maverick will be dead.” He watches me, purposefully looking at me for some sort of verbal reaction, but I’m stunned into silence. “There are no second chances anymore. If you don’t poison the fucker, Giovanni will make it a lot more painful for him.”
I gulp, my eyes water, and I’m left to watch Zane’s fate be finally be sealed. I imagine Giovanni getting his opportunity to kill the man I love and that threat he made will come true – I will be left crying over his dead body. If this happens, I will never know what love is because I will fear it. If my father can kill my first true love, what’s to say he’ll refrain from doing it to my second – if there is one.
“The option is entirely yours, Sis,” Giovanni responds to my silent response. He mocks me with a sweet nickname, emphasizing the wording as if to have more impact. He even walks toward me, putting his arm around me like we’re actually friends.
“Get off me,” I hiss and shrug him away. “You really think I’m going to let you get anywhere near Zane?” I shake my head, laughing at his lunacy. “You have another thing coming.”
“On the contrary, Bambina,” my father steps in, tearing my attention away from Giovanni’s conceited arrogance. “He’ll be watching to make sure it happens.”
My eyes bulge at the thought, and I’m spiraled into a twilight zone where my breathing is limited and my blood slows its pulsating journey through my body. Everything I have built up for is finally toppling, and falling down from around me, and it looks nothing like I had imagined. I thought I had time to live a perfected double life. One where I keep the man I love happy and my family happy and when crunch time did arrive there would be no reason to kill again. I stupidly figured I would escape slaying a man I so desperately loved. Now, however, if I don’t, he’ll suffer for ever knowing me.
“He’ll know something is up,” I state, unable to accept an audience. “He’s
not stupid, Papà, he’s been onto you for years. You really think he’ll just accept my brother’s presence around?”
“I don’t know, Amelia, this is where you get clever,” my father remarks. “You lured Jimmy and Marius into some sort of ideal situation and killed them both in one day. Be that spontaneous again and make Zane’s count.” He stops all together, gives me a moment of his pure interest, before barreling on. “Hell,” my father begins as his hands come crashing together, “how about you ask him here for a meal? Tell him the threat’s gone and we want to accept him into the family.” The smile my father offers sends a ripple of fear up my spine, every hair standing on end in its path. “That last dinner party went splendidly; I wouldn’t mind Zane dying before my eyes while I prepare to feast.”
I have to tell myself not to cry. The mantra sings in my head along with the one my father taught me. The pair together are a twisted melody with a haunting that will never cease. Don’t cry. Don’t feel. Don’t cry. Don’t deviate. Don’t cry. Kill Zane Maverick. I know the song will forever be with me, forever a reminder of what I’ve done. It’ll forever be my greatest punishment.
“There is no way to make you reconsider now, is there?” I ask, wondering if I can twist my father around my little finger in one more bid for salvation.
“No,” my father’s response is blunt. “I don’t want anyone having any opportunity to divulge what goes on in my house or my family. He is a direct threat that must be eliminated, and I am done waiting for you to do your job, Amelia. I did not come back to offer bargains, nor did I come back to heed to your emotional welfare. He dies or-” he stops himself and chuckles a little before continuing, “Or he dies. There is no alternative.”
“Just stop trying, Amelia,” Giovanni interrupts and steps closer to be beside our father. “We have a job to do.”
“Yes, you do,” my father adds. This time he looks ready for business. “Lenny was with me in Amalfi Coast. He opted to help us smuggle in a new load of drugs. However, what I’ve come to find when inventory was done was that, at least, twenty grand of my cocaine was missing.” My father’s demeanor shifts again. I never thought it was possible for a man to wear so many alter egos, but my father has mastered it. “Now Lenny is living a plush life at my expense, and I want to see him punished for it. No one steals from Salvatore Abbiati and lives afterwards.”
Femme Fatale Page 24
