“You’re a fucking weapon, Alcina,” he said. “Either your love or this—” his hand slid, roaming over the cream lace, until he touched me in the spot, the one that made me moan “—is going to kill me.”
“Bang,” I whispered.
He had started to suck over my pulse, but at that, he grinned against my skin.
He removed the silk from around my eyes, and I blinked against the soft light, the new place. He had turned me toward what would probably be the most stunning views come morning.
An arched doorway, much taller than me, taller than him, stretched from the floor to the ceiling. There were no lights to see by, but I could make out the outlines. There was a lake, or some kind of body of water, and mountains beyond it.
“Where are we?” I whispered, straining to put the lines together and form clearer shapes.
“Menaggio,” he said.
“Como,” I said and then whirled to face him. “Lake Como.”
He nodded. “This is ours.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, and not because he had already stepped out of his shoes. I wondered just how wealthy he was. I had no idea…
“My grandparents wanted us to have something special.” He shrugged. “He’s been holding on to it for a while. He bought it years ago, along with another property not too far from here. He thought you would enjoy it.”
I was not sure what to say. It seemed like his grandfather liked looking at me, but he did not like me. Anna told me I was being foolish, but I wondered if he approved of me. It did not seem like I was the kind of woman he expected for his grandson. I overheard him tell Corrado the night I met him that I was “shiny.” Maybe like a fucking toy.
“He built an empire,” Corrado said, his eyes roaming over the details of the room. “The construction years in New York were good to him.”
“It is beautiful,” I said, not even needing to see the rest of the house to speak those words in truth. “Beyond beautiful. I will have to thank him.”
His eyes came back to mine. Our stares seemed to crash like the waves rushing into shore outside. There had been something on his mind ever since we left. His mood felt…dark, almost dangerous.
He took a step toward me. I took a step back. We did this until he had me pinned against the glass door, his body much bigger and stronger than mine. He made me feel like a woman.
I looked up at him, and in the reflection of his eyes I noticed that I was blinking. He took my hand in his and lifted it against the glass, pinning it there. The black silk slid between our palms. His other hand came around my throat, lo scorpione against my windpipe. One squeeze and he would crush it. The pressure was enough to almost make me gasp for air.
“I might have sung and danced for you,” he said, his voice in total control, but there was something underneath the surface that was as dangerous as his mood. “But I’m not your fucking puppet, Alcina. I’m your husband. Your mind, body, soul, wants are mine. You get hungry. I feed you. You get thirsty. I pour the wine down your fucking throat. You need to get off. I fuck you. Every inch of you belongs to me.”
My head swam in dizziness. My eyes could barely focus. My lungs burned. Not enough air. But I was so wet that the lace between my legs was cool from being soaked. My nipples were painfully stiff, and I was so turned on that a whimper left my mouth.
He applied a little more pressure and I lifted my neck, trying to take in just a little more air, or maybe I would pass out. “You even think about taking another man to bed—” he came in closer, his lips a mere kiss from mine “—I will kill you. Then I will die. Capisci?”
He was not doing this to be sexual. The threat in his voice, along with the pressure on my neck, was real. I could see it in his hardened dark-amber eyes. The color was no longer a warning, or warming, but to keep me in his grip for the rest of my life.
I reached down with my free hand and grabbed a handful of his cock and balls, almost squeezing, giving him a warning in return. “Sì, Scorpione,” I barely got out.
He grinned at me, but it was wicked. He applied a little more pressure, and I had the insane urge to claw at his fingers, to dislodge them from my throat. But I waited him out, defying him by keeping my eyes hard on his. I meant it when I had told him I was not made of glass. I did not shatter when the bull beat me. He had, after I disconnected him from his manhood.
No man would ever put his hands on me that way and not expect to be seriously wounded, if I could help it.
This man. He would never hurt me, unless I hurt him in that way first. He was claiming what was his. I knew the difference between what my husband was doing and what the bull tried to do. I also understood what Anna had meant in that moment when she said sometimes a woman could not understand it until it happens to her—to be claimed down to her soul.
“Who am I to you, Alcina?” The pressure lightened a little, but not by much. “That’s what you call me.”
“Mio marito,” I rasped out.
“Ti amo, i miei occhi d'angela,” he said.
Removing lo scorpione from my throat, I inhaled, almost gasping for breath, but he did not give me any breathing room.
His mouth came against mine, and I stole his breath for my own. My hands fisted in his hair, needing him even closer. My leg ran up his, and he locked it in place. His mouth moved lower, devouring my neck, his lips almost gentle. It was the opposite sensation of his rough hand.
“I’m going to fuck you until you scream so hard, I’ll have to gag you so none of my men hear. No one hears you but me. Your pleasure is all mine.”
I pushed his mouth even lower, trying to feed the ache. You get hungry. I feed you.
He bit my nipple through the fabric. My thighs trembled so hard that it reflected out of my mouth in a long, shaking moan. His tongue licked from my neck back to my mouth and then he kissed me again. I thirsted for more. You get thirsty. I pour the wine down your fucking throat.
I ripped his shirt, sending the buttons flying to the floor. Then I unbuckled his pants, using my leg and foot to push them down. He stepped out, undressing the rest of the way.
I decided that cazzo was not a good description of his cock, but lo scorpione was. I licked my lips, and as I lowered down, I used my hands to caress his sides.
His hands slid in my hair and pulled me closer, making me take him all the way. I swirled my tongue around him, careful not to use my teeth, from base to tip.
He groaned as he seemed to get even harder, and before I could start to move faster, he started to fuck me like he did the first night. He hit the back of my throat, making tears come to my eyes, but I moaned around him. I felt the tremble move through him as he spilled himself.
His neck was back, throat exposed, and he growled in his throat at the release. A second later, he lifted me up by my arms, turning me, my hands against the glass door, facing out.
“Spread your legs for me, Alcina,” he said.
I did. My ragged breath fogged the window when I breathed out. The black silk was wrapped around his palm. His hands moved over my sides, slowly inching closer to the backless lace bra, and then he removed it, throwing it to the side. He caressed my skin with a touch that was barely there, but I could feel callouses on his fingers from working in the groves. The contrast was as delicious as he was.
The more he explored—his touch became a mixture of caresses and a deep tissue massage—the more I trembled.
“Do you like my touch, angel eyes?”
“Sì, mio marito,” I whispered, hardly able to talk.
His hands came around my breasts, and he teased my nipples as his tongue started to lick my skin. He took the route from my neck all the way down, licking harder in the indention between my lower back and behind. His teeth bit into the lace of my panties, shimmying them down until I stepped out.
I could feel his warm breath between my legs as he inserted his finger inside of me at the same time his tongue licked over my behind, meeting his finger.
“Ah!” I screamed out. I los
t all balance, my nipples pressing hard against the cold glass. The pressure was too much. I started to pant, hardly able to catch my breath. My hands were pressed against the pane, but my fingers ached to claw, to sink into his skin.
It did not take long before I screamed out his name. I came around him in an explosion.
“Fucking delizioso,” he murmured, his tongue swirling around his lips. He stood, his front to my back, and turned me to face him.
My cheeks burned, but not from embarrassment. I wanted more. He read the look in my eyes.
“You want me to fuck you, Alcina,” he said, his voice gruff.
I looked down at his hand, the silk, and then at his glistening cock. I licked my lips, bit my lip, not sure what I wanted—to have him in my mouth again or inside of me.
He grinned. Wiping lo scorpione off with the black silk, he tied it around my mouth. I salivated at the taste of him.
He ran his fingertip down my face. I tried to bite him but couldn’t. His grin melted and his eyes hardened. He lifted me up, my legs going around him instinctually, and walked me through the villa until we came to a bedroom.
I was barely aware that the chandelier was lit, but it looked like melting candles, their wicks on fire, instead of actual lights.
He set me down in the middle of a wide bed on my knees and then knelt down behind me, using his knees to nudge my legs apart. “Pretty patatina,” he murmured. “Too bad I’m about to fucking destroy it.”
His fingers ran over my culo again, until he started to tease my patatina. I tried to scream, to moan so loud that I would wake the entire villa, but the gag stopped me.
It kept me from letting out another scream when he slapped me between the legs, the sting of it ringing out in the room.
While the sting was still burning, he placed himself at my opening, slowly entering me, but then pulling out before he was fully buried deep inside of me. A frustrated, garbled sound came from my mouth. I squeezed the sheets, my knuckles turning white. My mouth was not working, but my body was. He was at the tip, and then I was slammed back, screaming out when he hit me deep inside.
He started to fuck me like he had never fucked me before. He had my hair and the gag around his fist, and every time he impaled me, a pain from scalp to uterus soared through me, followed by pure pleasure.
Even though my screams were muffled, they seemed to shatter the quiet in the villa, echoing inside of the empty walls. The sound of his balls slapping against me was even louder, and so were his groans. Sweat dripped from our bodies. We slid against each other like two oiled machines. The smell of our sex was an aphrodisiac.
“Fuck, Alcina,” he said. He stopped moving, and then he slammed into me so hard that I felt him in my stomach. “Come. Come with me. Now.”
His order was my undoing. I shattered around him as he spilled into me. That highest point was almost violent, a crash, an explosion, followed by a maddening surge of pleasure that was the equivalent of touching heaven—a moment when my heart stopped beating and then started pounding when I began to fall.
His head fell against my back. He placed a firm kiss between my shoulder blades. “Bang,” he said. Then he flipped me over and placed my hand over his racing heart.
The master bedroom of the villa was on the second floor. It had numerous arched doors that led out onto a long terrace. The room itself was pleasing to the eye, especially this early in the morning: soft colors on the walls, redone floors that still held the stamp of time, and furnishings—there were not many—that were lush. The chandelier was a nice touch. It was created to resemble floating candles, wax dripping from their bodies.
The bathroom. I sighed. The floor reminded me of pearls set in marble, and it was not the nicest feature of the space.
Nothing in the villa compared to the view.
I stood in the bedroom Corrado had brought us to the night before, staring out the window. The lake spread out as far as the eye could see. The water was clear blue with pockets of green that together made teal, and the gold from the rising sun shimmered along the surface. Jade-colored Alps towered in the distance over the small, picturesque villages tucked into the foothills. Clouds seemed to hover like smoke in between the mountains and water. Villas were placed along the mountainsides, some wedged into the crevices, some facing the water. Others were closer to the shore.
Our villa was closer to the water, but it sat back far enough to have a garden area between. Flowers bloomed everywhere. Some I recognized—bright bougainvillea that clung to every surface it touched, blue moon wisteria, and topiaries in different shapes—and some I did not.
It felt as if I had woken up inside of a painting.
I opened the doors, stepping out into the direct rays of the sun, feeling the warm, humid air move over my body. I had found a gold silk robe in the bathroom, and I decided to wear it instead of one of my dresses I had brought from home.
I moved further out onto the balcony, leaning against it, looking down.
I smiled to myself. Corrado was swimming naked in the pool that overlooked the lake. The muscles in his back worked as his arms moved him from one side of the pool to another, time and time again.
Leaving the doors open, I went in search of a way down. The villa was humungous, and I started to wonder if I was going the right way until I met men roaming the house. They did not look at me. I did not look twice at any of them. Until I found Adriano in the kitchen.
“Corrado,” I said.
“Out swimming,” he said around a mouthful of food. He shrugged. “He swims after his workouts.” He swallowed the bite, or stuffed some in his cheeks for later, and showed me how to get outside.
The grass was soft beneath my bare feet, and the sun was hot on my face already.
“What’s wrong?” Adriano said, narrowing his eyes against the glare as he stared at me. “Why are you movin’ so slow? You got a cramp or somethin’?” He used his tongue to clean a piece of food from his front tooth.
I tried not to laugh, but all I could manage was a grin. I was moving slow because last night was my exercise, and I was feeling it in my bones. He must have thought I was grinning at him, and slowly, his puffy cheeks inflated even more when he smiled at me.
“Come on.” He nodded toward the garden. “I talk to you too long and he might dump me in the lake and use me as fish food.”
“Why is that?”
He shrugged. “He either has an arm around a woman to keep her close, or it’s around a man’s throat. It’s either love or hate for him. Not that he’s ever been in love before you…”
I followed behind him, wrinkling my nose when the wind blew. His cologne was something that could only be described as unpleasant, and it usually made me sneeze in confined areas. It was like pepper.
He stopped a few feet away from the pool and then went back the way we came. I set my hand over my eyes, watching him so I would know where to go.
“Mrs. Capitani.”
I turned to find Corrado hanging on to the side of the pool, his skin glistening in the sun. His hair was slicked back, making his chiseled features seem even sharper. His eyes were a shade or two lighter than his skin, which made him look almost wicked.
Corrado pointed to his lips. I walked over to him and bent over, about to kiss him good morning. Instead, I hit the water and went under. I came up spluttering, wiping the hair from my face.
As soon as my eyes would focus, they focused on him. He was smiling at me.
Bastardo! He had pulled me in.
I hit him in the face with water.
He came after me, and I tried to get away. His arm came around my waist, pulling me hard into his chest. My legs were useless. They floated.
“Bruto,” I said, splashing him in the face again.
He laughed some, kissing me behind the ear. “You like when I’m a brute,” he said, sucking on my earlobe.
I closed my eyes, placing my hands over his wrists, letting him float me around the pool. My eyes opened when he set me ag
ainst the wall and undid the tie of the robe. It floated off a second later, and he brought me close again, nothing between us but the water. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my legs around his hips, leaning my forehead against his.
“What if the men see?” I whispered.
“They know better,” he said. “I doubt any of them want to go blind. My men watch the areas they’re ordered to, or they watch other men under them. Only a few watch me. Nothing slips past me.” He lifted my chin, examining my neck. He placed a firm kiss on a spot that was a little bruised from the night before. “This hurt?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Just a little tender. My culo…” I made a face. “That hurts.”
I opened my eyes to judge his expression. He had none either way, but there was more to it.
It took me a minute to figure it out, but after he had left me alone this morning, I thought about what had happened before we left my grandparents’ casa. He had been watching me talk to Ezio, who had returned from Greece a single man. I could tell by the look in Corrado’s eyes that he did not like it. At first, I thought his mood was because of his grandfather, but after what he had said and what he had done the night before, I connected the dots. He was jealous.
“It’ll be my pleasure to kiss that, too.”
I smiled. “You did. It did not help.”
“The water will.”
“It is nice,” I sighed, leaning my head back, turning my face up to the sun, while his mouth worked over my throat. “Where do we go from here?”
“I’m going to spoil you, angel eyes,” he said, weighing my breasts in his hands as they floated close to the surface of the water. He caressed my nipples with his thumbs. “After breakfast, we’ll do some shopping. I’ve already arranged it. You need clothes, and the house needs furniture.”
I forced myself to focus on him and not what he was doing to my body again. “I mean in the future. Your grandfather. What he meant about you going home and taking his place. When?”
Mercenary (Gangsters of New York Book 3) Page 12
