by Ella Miles
Her eyes darken, her breath catches, and her nipples stand at attention waiting for me. My caveman words turn her on, instead of turning her off.
“Fuck me, Caspian,” she says, growing impatient with our pause.
I grab her legs and pull her cunt to me so I can taste the sweet pleasure I know is dripping there. My tongue darts inside her, and her body sings.
“God!” she moans, unable to even say my name, as I make her body wiggle beneath me.
I smirk, pushing my tongue deeper inside her and bringing her right to the brink. She wants to come so badly, but she also wants what comes next.
I push her, moving my tongue deeper inside her body as I hit the sweet spot that will make her do anything I want.
She explodes around my tongue.
“Yes, Conti!”
Her screams still me. She’s called me Conti several times before, and every time she does, it reminds me of someone else. And it melts my cold heart. This time it shatters the ice holding it together until there is nothing left.
I sit up abruptly, not believing what I’m doing.
“Conti?” Gia sits up slowly, feeling the coldness in the room. The chill that won’t go away until I start talking.
I feel tears burning my eyes. Tears I haven’t cried in almost five years.
“I should have saved you.”
Gia shivers as she wraps the ripped dress around her body.
“You did save me.”
“No, I should have saved you the second you fell into my lap.”
“You couldn’t. Dante would have killed you.”
“No, I could have saved you. It would have ruined my relationship with Dante, sure, but I could have prevented every horrible thing from happening to you, and I didn’t because I was selfish.”
Gia scoots closer to me but doesn’t touch me as we both sit half naked on the edge of the oversized king bed. I never expected to spill my heart to a woman again, but here I am, ripping my own heart to shreds. Gia doesn’t say anything. She waits until I can speak again.
“I needed revenge more than I wanted to save you. You shouldn’t want to fuck me. I’m a bigger monster than Dante and Roman combined.”
She nods. “I know you could have saved me. I know you were torn and wanted to. Adela told me. At that moment, I hated you, but I knew you had to have a reason for not saving me. And last night I realized you were watching over me, making sure I never got hurt so badly I couldn’t recover. You saved me the second you could.”
“No!” I grab Gia’s face as tears stream down my face. “I let that disgusting excuse of a man hurt you. I let him touch you. I let him rape you, and I did nothing. There is no excuse good enough to let you go through that.”
Tears burn her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. “Just tell me why.”
“I had the perfect wife—”
She gasps when I say, wife. And then she realizes she shouldn’t act surprised and relaxes.
“I had the perfect wife. She was beautiful, smart, determined. She was a nurse. She devoted her life to helping kids that didn’t have any money to pay her. She only took enough money to feed and clothe herself. She was a saint.”
The tears will never stop now that I’ve started.
“She was my light. She kept me pure. She knew there was a darkness inside me, but she kept the darkness at bay.”
“She sounds wonderful.”
“She was. She was heavenly. Purer than an angel. She saved me, helped me find my purpose in providing security systems to protect the innocent from the evil.”
I can’t look at Gia as I talk about my wife. It’s too much. So I stare at my hands. Hands that have done so much wrong.
“But security isn’t pure. I got mixed into a world of evil. I tried to stay away, but it sucked me in like a vacuum I couldn’t get free of.
“We’d been married two years when she was taken in the middle of the night. My security system had failed us…failed her. Yesterday was the anniversary of her being taken.”
I roar out my anger needing the pain to go away. I’ve been numb for too long to be able to handle this pain now.
“I searched every day for her for a year. One year I searched. I found her, but it was too late. She was dead and gone, tossed out like trash. I brought her back to my home in the woods and buried her in the garden, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to get her revenge.”
Gia nods but keeps her hands in her lap, even though I can tell she wants to comfort me, she knows I won’t accept it right now.
“Dante Russo was the one who took her. I vowed the day I found her, I would torture and kill him the way he did her. I needed the best security system to get a way in. I needed a system he would want. So I became the best. And then I needed something Dante would truly mourn when I stole it.”
“Me,” Gia says.
I nod.
“I’m not valuable to him. I’m just a body he can fuck. He doesn’t care about me any more than he does any other woman.”
I shake my head. “I planned to install the system, watch him, and find his weakness. But the second I saw you run out of the car, I knew it was you. You would become his weakness because you instantly became mine.”
She sucks in a breath.
“I’ve watched him every day since I took you. He’s gone mad. He would do anything to get you back. And now that I’ve tortured him with your disappearance, I can kill him.”
Gia takes a second to herself and then grabs my cheeks, wiping my tears with her thumbs. “I forgive you.”
More tears fall. Of all the things she could say now, I never expected her to say that.
“You can’t forgive me.”
She smiles carefully. “I just did. You don’t get to tell me how I feel. I forgive you. I can’t understand what you’ve been through. I’ve never lost someone like that, but I’ve experienced pain and if there were something I could do to make that pain lessen for someone I love, then I would. Even if it meant hurting someone else.”
I grab her neck and kiss her firmly on the lips, sucking all the air from her.
“How can you be this perfect?” I ask against her lips.
She kisses me again, needing our lips together. “I’m no more perfect than you are. We are just kindred spirits, both searching for the same thing. Revenge.”
I devour her lips now. I need to be inside her as quickly as possible. She needs the same thing. Her hands are at the waistband of my pants, trying to push them off.
I rip her panties down and push inside her without waiting to see if she is ready for me or not. From her wince, her body wasn’t prepared, but her moans and clawing on my back tell me she doesn’t care. Her soul can’t wait.
I rock in and out of her, gripping her tightly as I fuck her. But I’m not just fucking her. There is something different happening, but I can’t find the word to describe it. Because no word can describe the connection between us. No matter what happens next, it’s unbreakable.
“What was her name?” Gia asks, and that’s when I realize what’s happening. This is for my wife. For a connection I had with a woman that was stolen from me too soon. A woman I never deserved. Whatever beautiful connection is happening now is because of her.
“Clara Conti.”
Gia pauses for a second, honoring her, and then she kisses me hard on the lips. And I fuck her like tomorrow might never come. And it might not.
I don’t know how this ends with Gia and me. How am I going to give her up? Because I can’t keep her.
16
Gia
Caspian told me his darkest secret, but I can never tell him mine. I forgave him. He would never forgive me.
Everything has changed since I killed Roman. We’ve been home a week, and it’s almost like we are a normal couple. We don’t talk about me leaving, or giving me my freedom anymore. I already have my freedom. I got it the day he tracked down Roman for me to kill and then let me keep the gun. Any time I want to use it to leave, I could.
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But I don’t want to leave.
Caspian’s home is becoming my home. His desires are becoming mine. We both want the same thing.
Revenge on Dante Russo.
We want him to hurt as much as possible, and then when he’s done hurting, we want to kill him.
We don’t talk about it. Instead, we talk about normal things. The weather, food, drinks, our day. But it’s always on our minds. Even when we are fucking.
Our desire for revenge is too strong for anything else. And I’m tired of not talking about it. Once it’s done, then we can focus on what the hell we are doing together. What our future could hold. Until it’s over, we are trapped in our revenge.
At one point revenge was my freedom, but now I’m afraid it’s starting to hold me back.
Caspian is sitting outside on his computer. He usually sits there after dinner, soaking in the last drops of sunlight on his computer. I usually sit next to him reading a book. But today, I helped Michi clean up the dishes first. So when I finally join Caspian outside, the sun has all but set.
“You ready to go inside?” he asks when I join him.
“No.”
He glances up from his computer, sensing the trepidation in my voice.
“When are we going to kill Dante?” I ask. I know he has a plan, he just hasn’t shared it with me yet.
He closes his computer, and I’m afraid he’s closing our conversation.
“Soon, but I’m not sure I can bring you with me, or if I do if I can let you kill him. I’ve been planning this for five years. I need to be the one to kill him. I can’t just hand you the gun like I did with Roman.”
It hurts that I won’t be the one to kill him, but as long as he’s dead, it doesn’t matter. “I understand.”
He narrows his eyes. “How could you? My wife was taken from me, but you were the one who went through so much. And I let it happen.”
I grab his face and kiss him softly, annoyed even though I’ve forgiven him, he still hasn’t forgiven himself.
“Stop. I understand. I didn’t die. I didn’t lose anything. You did.”
He turns away, not able to look at me. I hate it when he does this. Shuts me out. I know he doesn’t owe me anything. We aren’t in a real relationship. I don’t even know what “we” are. But it still hurts.
He turns back. “Take your revenge out on me.”
I frown. “No, I forgive you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
His thumb strokes my cheek before he pulls me onto his lap. “I need you to. I can’t forgive myself. My nightmares are no longer about Clara. They are about you. Every night I have a nightmare about what Dante did to you. I hate myself for letting him lay a hand on you, much less hurt you every night. I can’t live with myself. Take out your revenge on me.”
I search his eyes and find him near breaking. He needs this. And when I search my heart, I realize I do too. I may have forgiven him, but it still hurts. I need to let the pain go. And this might be how.
“Okay.”
He lifts me and sets me down on my feet. Then he gathers his computer and empty wine glass and walks inside. I follow after, both terrified and exhilarated with what is about to happen.
He sets the computer and glass down on the counter where Michi is still cleaning.
Caspian looks at Michi, and he knows. Michi really needs his own place if Caspian is going to keep kicking him out. Michi heads out without a word.
Then, Caspian walks to the bedroom. My feet can barely move, but I make it somehow. Must be muscle memory that moves me.
I stand in the doorway and watch as Caspian gathers items. Whips, chains, floggers, knives, anything destructive he can find. He lays them all out on the bed. And then he starts undressing. Removing his shirt slowly, then his pants, until he’s standing in nothing but his underwear. He considers his next move for a second and then he removes his boxers too. It’s not sexual. He’s baring his all to me.
And I’ve never seen a stronger man.
“Please,” he whispers, and I know what he’s asking. Please make the pain go away, for both of us.
Then he lies down on the bed and waits.
I take a couple of deep breaths, letting go of the compassion I have for Caspian and let the hate I’ve pushed away back in.
He could have saved me but didn’t.
I repeat those words over and over until I’m lost in them. Then I stomp toward the chains, knowing I have to tie him up. No matter how much he says he wants this, as soon as the first crack of pain hits him, he will try to stop me. For this to work, he has to be completely vulnerable.
So I pick up the metal cuffs and loop one around the post and then attach the cuff to his wrist. He looks at me with sad eyes but doesn’t say anything. He just watches. I feel the fear oozing off of him, but know it has nothing to do with the pain he’s about to feel. It has everything to do with us. Where will we be when this is over?
I walk to his other arm and attach it to the bed, doing the same to his legs.
“Try to break free,” I command.
He pulls hard with his arms and legs, but he can’t move.
I nod and then close my eyes. Filling everything in me with the memories of Dante. Him striking me, beating me, raping me. His cock driving into me is what does it the most. So I focus on the image. Of what it felt like to have a cock push into me when I’m dry and unwilling. The burn, the violation, the pain. I let it consume me, and then I open my eyes.
I don’t see Caspian lying on the bed; I see Dante.
I grab the first item I can find. A bat. I bring it high over my head and then I beat down on the broken body in front of me.
“I fucking hate you!” I scream as I hit the body hard in the stomach. I can’t see anything but rage.
I lift the bat and strike again and again. I’m rewarded with a loud groan each time, but it’s not enough. I want the screams I let out every time Dante hurt me.
I strike his chest one more time with the bat before I move onto the whip.
I don’t know if it will hurt more or less, but I plan on using every instrument I can until I hear the screams.
I’m not as skilled with the whip, so my first attempt misses, hitting the bed. But my second strike hits my target’s legs. His legs jump at the sting, leaving bright red welts.
It’s not enough.
I’ve formed the bruises on him with the bat. I’ve formed the redness with the whip. I need the scars. I need the cries.
The cock inside me was one of the worst. The absolute worst. I don’t want to fuck this man. He doesn’t deserve a second of my pleasure. But the next worst thing was the sharpness of the blade. Knowing he could take my life if he wanted with a slip of the knife.
I grab the sharp blade, and then I climb onto Dante’s body. I straddle his hard chest as I hold the knife to his neck as he has to me so many times before.
“Do it. I deserve it,” he says.
I freeze the knife over his artery. He does deserve it. He deserves to die.
I shove the knife hard against his neck until I see blood. But I still don’t hear screams. I need his screams! I need to know I hurt him as badly as he hurt me.
I remove the knife from his neck and aim for his heart, stabbing his chest.
He screams. It’s high pitched and terrifying, and it feeds my soul. I want more.
I stab him again. He’s going to get a slow torturous death.
“I’m so sorry, Gia. I’m so sorry. I deserve this.”
His voice makes me stop. That isn’t the voice of Dante.
I stop the knife and close my eyes, trying to push the hate back down. When I open again, I see Caspian on the bed. Bleeding to death.
“No! Oh my god! What did I do?”
I jump off of him, dropping the knife and race to get the first aid kit.
When I climb back on the bed, his breathing has slowed, and his eyes have grown heavy.
“Shh, you did nothing wrong. You did what had to be done. And i
f I die, it’s what needs to happen,” Caspian says.
I pull out gauze, covering the wound to attempt to stop the bleeding.
“Don’t talk like that. You aren’t going to die.”
But I’m not sure. There is a lot of blood. I don’t think I hit his heart, but I hit something major.
“Michi!” I yell, hoping he’s in the house or nearby. I get no answer.
I glance at the handcuffs I used to restrain him. I need the key to release him. He’s going to die restrained to his bed if I don’t help him.
Fuck.
But if I worry about releasing him, he will definitely die.
I dig through the first aid kit while I keep applying pressure with my other hand. I find the stapler and drugs I requested Michi stock after the last time Caspian was injured. I don’t have time for morphine though.
“It’s going to be okay,” I say calmly. I take out the stapler.
“Look away,” I tell him. He turns his head and bites his lip knowing more pain is coming. I staple the wound over and over. Each time the pain ripping into his heart. Each time I pray he doesn’t die because of me. What was I thinking? I have no control over my demons.
“One more,” I say as the last staple goes in.
I press the gauze back, and the bleeding has reduced greatly.
I exhale deeply. He’s going to be okay. He needs a hospital, but he’s going to survive.
“I’m so sorry,” I say.
I look at him, but he doesn’t respond.
“Caspian?”
Nothing.
I lower my head over his chest. He isn’t breathing.
Shit.
I blow into his mouth and start doing compressions.
“Please, Caspian!”
I keep compressing over his heart, praying his staples don’t pop open and the bleeding doesn’t start all over again.
“Don’t you dare die, Caspian!”
More compressions, but he’s not breathing.
“You are going to be an uncle. You hear me! You can’t die!”
More compressions.
“I need your help to kill Dante. Clara can’t be avenged without your help.”
