by Beck, J. L.
“I want you naked and spread out for me.”
Understanding blankets her face, and her pink tongues dart out, wetting her bottom lip. I want to taste her lips, bite, and suck on them, but I can’t. Not yet. Pulling my hand away, I watch as she slowly slips out of her clothes, a cami, and pair of cotton panties, discarding them on the floor. My eyes roam over the length of her body, looking for any inflictions, cuts, wounds. Aside from a few bruises on her arms, I see nothing that worries me.
Pressing a hand to her chest, I gently push her back onto the mattress. She doesn’t say anything but watches me like a timid mouse that’s been caught in a trap. Pushing her legs apart, I drag my gaze lower, over her tiny tummy, and her hips before reaching the top of her mound.
Her creamy smooth thighs come into view, and I bite back a groan. They’re unblemished, and as I lean in, I inhale her sweet scent into my nostrils.
The smell of her sex zings right through me and into my cock, slamming into me like a lightning bolt. Like a dog with a bone, I’m salivating, wanting to take a bite out of her pink pussy. One taste. One lick. One drop of her sweet nectar on my tongue.
That’s all I need, but because I know I’ll take more, so much more than that, I rein myself in. Using every ounce of discipline I have left, I pull away.
“Do you have any idea how much it hurt me to be pushed away by you? To watch you do as Matteo said, to hang on his every word.” I pause and trail a finger down over her thigh, stopping at her knee. She shivers, and I’m unsure if it’s from fear or something more. I hate that I enjoy her fear, hate that it makes my cock harder than steel. “I watched you play with Alberto, taunting him, leading him astray…”
“I didn’t… I wouldn’t. I’m sorry,” she eventually huffs.
My lips turn up at the sides, “No, you aren’t. Not yet, but you will be soon.”
“What are you going to do to me?” she asks after a second, her heart beating against her ribs like a bird trapped in a cage.
“Whatever I want,” I reply darkly. I’m too frenzied with need to prepare her, and so I hope like hell she’s already wet because the last thing I want to do is hurt her, then again, she hurt me. Ripped my fucking heart out of my chest. Granted, she did it to protect me, this I understand, but who protects her if something happens to me?
“Zane,” she whimpers, knowing what’s coming. I’ll be cruel to her, but I’ll make sure she feels my love with each hard stroke. I’ll give her pain and let the pleasure soothe the ache.
“Shh, you only speak if it’s to tell me to stop. Do you understand?” I bark out.
Her gaze widens with shock and arousal, but she doesn’t object. Instead, she nods her head in understanding.
“Play with your tits, get yourself nice and wet because I don’t have the patience for that right now.”
Dove’s chest starts to rise and fall rapidly, but her eyes glaze over with lust. She likes when I tell her what to do, when I fuck her with purpose. Rolling her hardened nipples between her thumb and pointer finger, her lips part and her hips roll, seeking out my cock. I leave her this way, craving and wanting for a minute while I watch. She bites her bottom lip to stifle the whimper, trying to escape her pouty lips. I want my cock between those lips. I want to watch her swallow my length, to choke on it, to be so helpless and fragile.
Shoving my boxers down, I let my swollen cock free and kick away the fabric at my feet.
“Come here,” I order, fisting my cock in my hand. Dove’s timid gaze moves from my cock and up my body, stopping at my eyes. “I want you on your knees,” I say.
Grabbing a pillow from the bed, I toss it on the floor at my feet. Dove’s movements are sluggish, and I can see how aroused she is for me, her sweet cream coats the insides of her thighs, and my gaze is drawn to it.
I want to lick it, feast on her, to wring every drop of pleasure out of her.
This isn’t about her… I remind myself, which is really fucking hard when the only thing I care about is her. Pleasing her. Making sure she’s safe. Loving her. I breathe for her.
Dove sinks down onto the pillow and eyes me cautiously.
“Open that pretty mouth of yours. The same mouth that slayed me with such hateful words. I’m going to fuck it, fuck your mouth, throat, and then your pussy.” I’ve never been so blunt with her before, so vile, but it feels good. It makes me feel free. I’m not sure what I’ll do if she objects, but thankfully, she doesn’t.
I bring the tip of my cock to her open lips. She flicks her tongue against the tip, and I let out a grunt. Fuck, that feels like heaven. Running my fingers through her hair, I stroke her head before sinking my fingers deep into the dark strands, wrapping them around my fist. I tug her head back and make sure she knows who’s in charge.
“Open your mouth real wide, I’m going to fuck it.”
It’s the only warning I give her before I thrust my hips forward, shoving my cock deep into her mouth. Her tiny nails sink into my thighs, and she whimpers around my length. Pulling out a little, I slam back in and watch as her eyes water and the tears stream down the side of her face. Again, I hold myself there for a moment before pulling back out and doing it all over again. She gags around my length, and the sound only heightens my pleasure.
“You look so fucking pretty with my cock stuffed in your mouth,” I say, wanting her to know that while I am punishing her, I still love her so fucking much.
Dove’s mouth is so warm, so fucking perfect. I pull out again, and saliva dribbles out the sides of her mouth. I half expected her to tell me to stop by now, but Dove is stronger now than she was back in that bunker. She’s a queen.
Moaning around my cock, I swear the sound goes straight through me. Repeating the process again, I continue fucking her mouth until the pleasure in my balls becomes too much, and I’m afraid I’ll blow. I’m going to fill up her tight little pussy with my come.
Pulling all the way out of her, I grab her by the chin and stare into her crystal blues.
“Get on the bed on your hands and knees,” I order, and she scurries from the floor and onto the bed. Climbing onto the bed, I situate myself behind her, pressing down on the small of her back. She’s at the perfect angle, her pink folds glisten in the morning light.
“You come when I tell you to,” I growl and line up my cock with her entrance. Thrusting my hips forward, I slip deep inside of her channel, my home. She’s snug, tightly squeezing me like a vice.
“So deep,” she pants into the sheets, and I slap her ass hard for talking outside the rules.
“Don’t talk unless it’s to tell me to stop.”
Those are the last words I say for a while as I fuck her hard and fast, showing her just how much it hurt me to lose her. Imprinting my soul on hers, I fuck her like an animal, rutting deep. Every time she gets close to orgasming, I pull out. She whimpers at the loss, and when I push back into her, we repeat it all over again.
“Zane,” she pleads, and it’s the one time I let her get away with talking.
The need in her voice is too much for me. I can feel her gripping me, her tight cunt getting ready to pulse around me. I’ve been fucking her for ten minutes now, beads of sweat drip down my body, my grip on her hips is bruising, the force of my thrusts harsh, but I can’t seem to get enough of her. I can’t seem to get her to feel all of my pain. Withholding her orgasm is killing me as badly as it’s killing her.
“Please, Zane, please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” She starts to sob, like actual crying, and it’s the last shred. I can’t take hurting either of us anymore. Slamming hard into her one last time, I grind my hips against her ass, feeling everything as she explodes all around me. We both come together, my hot come fills her channel, and I can feel it dripping down my cock and onto my balls.
Fuck, I’ve never come so much or so hard before.
Gently, I pull out of Dove and collapse onto the mattress beside her. I tug her into my side and stroke her sweaty face with my hand. It takes me forever to catch my
breath, but when I do, I roll, so we are facing each other.
“Was I too rough?” I ask a tinge of guilt in my voice.
“No. I’ll be sore, but you taught your lesson.” The little smile she gives me is enough to make the guilt disappear.
“I love you, Dove. I love you so fucking much, and no one is going to come between us again. I’ll kill anyone who tries, anyone who even thinks about it. You’re mine, and I am yours. Say it,” I urge, needing to hear her say the words.
“I am yours,” she whispers, and I’ve never heard truer words in my life.
24
I feel the way Zane fucked me in every step I take, and I’m pretty sure that was his intention. I took away his power when I forced him to leave, and I needed to show him that I placed that control back into his hands. I know he needed this as much as I needed it myself.
The way he used me was terrifying. Like I was nothing to him, but at the same time, invigorating because, in the end, I held all the power. If I told him to stop, he would have. I could feel his anger slipping away, the pain crumbling little by little.
After lying in bed for a few minutes, we get into the shower together, where Zane takes his time helping me wash my hair and body. His hands are gentle as he moves the washcloth over my skin and down between my legs. I gasp at the contact; my folds still sensitive.
Zane’s expression fills with concern. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”
“I’m sure. I’m just really sensitive.” I give him a sincere smile, and we finish together in the shower without any more worrying questions. As soon as we’re done, Zane gets out, grabs a towel, and wraps it around me. It’s fluffy and smells clean and fresh.
Slinging a towel around his own waist, we walk back into the bedroom together. I sit on the edge of the bed while Zane walks over to the dresser and starts rifling through it. I can’t help but stare as his well-defined muscles clench and flex as he moves.
Those perfectly sculpted abs and the bulge of his biceps cause a heat to coil low in my belly. I shouldn’t be staring. I really shouldn’t, but…
“Xander’s wife gave me some clothes for you to wear if you want to come and look through the drawers,” Zane says, his voice interrupting my thoughts. My cheeks heat, and I can’t imagine how I look right now.
“Oh, okay, yeah…” I mumble and walk over to the dresser. I find some clothes and pull them on, feeling a little less exposed now that I’m dressed. Drying my hair with the towel, Zane watches me curiously.
“You know what happens next, right?” he asks, as I drop the towel to the floor.
“Yes, now that Christian is dead, Matteo is next.”
“Are you okay with that?”
My brow furrows. “Why wouldn’t I be? I told you, I don’t care about him, Zane. I was only playing along to protect you. He told me he’d kill you if I didn’t make you disappear, and so I decided I’d rather have you angry with me than never have a chance to see you alive again. Who will protect me if you’re not here?” I whisper as I cross the space between us and cup his cheeks. I lean in and press my lips against his.
They’re warm and firm, and when I feel his tongue pressing against the seam of my lips, I open up to him. Our tongues duel for a short while, each stroke of his tongue, stoking the warm coil of pleasure inside my belly. I know Xander is waiting for us, but he can wait a few more minutes.
Zane’s hands circle my waist and he tugs me forward…I’m seconds away from ditching my clothes and climbing on top of him when a knock on the door interrupts us.
Of course, Zane pulls away with a groan, a tiny smug grin pulling at his lips.
“We should probably go. I think we’ve left your brothers waiting long enough.”
My brothers. It’s so strange to think that yesterday I had no siblings, and today I have two brothers. Giving my hips a gentle squeeze, Zane moves me out of the way so he can get to the door. Tugging it open, I’m shocked to see Xander standing on the other side.
“Sorry to interrupt your reunion, but we need to discuss Matteo as soon as possible. Now that Christian is dead, word will travel fast.”
“We’ll be down in a minute,” Zane confirms, and Xander nods.
Sticking to his word, we walk downstairs and into the massive dining room, where Xander, Damon, and Ivan are sitting. They’re talking casually like they aren’t plotting to murder someone tomorrow.
It’s hard not to outright gawk at all the fancy features, like the huge open kitchen off to the right of the dining room, or the chandelier with ten thousand shiny diamonds reflecting back at me. Zane takes a seat at the table, and I take the spot next to him. A maid pops her head out of the kitchen and meanders over to us with a kind smile.
“Can I get you anything?” she asks.
“No, I can get it…” I start, but Xander clears his throat, cutting me off.
“That’s not how this works, Dove. The help is here to help. That’s what we pay them for. If you want something to drink or eat, Matilda can get it for you.” His words are clipped and cold.
I feel like a small child who’s being scolded, and I’m reminded of my stay at Matteo’s mansion, and I dislike greatly that he called this lovely woman the help.
“I’ll just have a coffee. Cream and sugar, please,” I say through gritted teeth before taking a seat. Zane takes the one next to me and slides his hand over mine.
“The Sergio family is crumbling apart without Christian, and Castro is running around like a chicken with his head cut off, trying to take over whatever territory he can. Greedy bastard he is. Plus, Alberto being dead leaves him spread thin. Now is the perfect time to strike, to take him down once and for all,” Xander explains while Damon and Ivan nod in agreement.
“Matteo tried to marry me off and threatened to kill Zane if I didn’t do his bidding. I’m all for taking him down as fast as possible.”
“Good, because we might need your help—”
“Whoa, whoa,” Zane interjects. “You are not involving her in this! This was not part of the agreement. I told you I would help, but we never talked about her.”
“I won’t force her if she doesn’t want to. I’m simply offering her the chance to help.”
“She declines,” Zane growls without even asking for my opinion. “She doesn’t belong here in this world, and she’s definitely not going anywhere near Matteo again.”
“Let me ask you a question,” Xander says cunningly, a sinister smile spreading out across his face. “What exactly happened to Alberto? How did you escape Matteo?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Zane snaps, and I just now realize that he hasn’t asked yet and that I haven’t told anyone either. Does Zane know I killed him? Does Xander suspect it? He must, he wouldn’t have said anything, otherwise.
“You’ve been awfully quiet, Dove,” Damon says. Speaking for the first time, a hint of amusement in his voice now. He looks identical to Xander but maybe a bit younger, and just a tiny bit less scarry.
“I… I killed Alberto,” I blurt out. All eyes fall on me. Xander and Damon seem prideful, while Zane is shocked, his mouth hanging open.
“You killed him?” I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.
Something in my chest swells. “Yes. I found him in my room during the engagement party, he wanted sex, I didn’t. So, I slit his throat before stealing his car keys and making my escape to the apartment. I waited a little while, stole his keys, and escaped and went to my apartment.” A tinge of guilt echoes through me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t tell you. You never asked, and well, we never got the chance to talk about it.”
“See, she’s not as weak as she seems.” Xander pins Zane with a glare, crossing his arms over his chest. “In fact, she’s more of a Rossi than I expected her to be.”
For some stupid reason, I smile.
“That doesn’t mean she is going to run headfirst into danger right after I get her out of the crossfires,” Zane yells. “You are not forcing her into this like Matteo did.”
Xander’s gaze turns murderous, and his hands curl into tight fists on the table. “Don’t compare me to him,” he says in a tone that has the small hairs on my neck standing on end. “I already told you, it’s her choice.” He turns to me. “If you want to leave, you are more than welcome to walk away right now. I won’t hold it against you, and if you ever need anything, I will be here for you. I am simply giving you the opportunity to help.”
“I’ll help; however, I can. If you need me to do something, I will. I’m not afraid.”
“The hell you will.” Zane slams his fist down on the table, making the glasses jump.
“If she wants to help, then she can. We wouldn’t let anything happen to her. I get your concern, but she escaped without you, she can handle this.” Damon says this time, and I know even without looking at Zane that he’s pissed, a vibrating wall of rage. I understand his fear, his anger, but I don’t want to be seen as a delicate little flower. I saved myself once, and I’ll do it again, except this time, I’ll have an army of men beside me.
“What’s the plan?” Ivan questions his eyes on Xander.
Xander rubs at his chin. “We use Dove to draw him out. Make him think that she’s coming back to him, or better yet, put her out in the open. Make him think that she’s unprotected. Then before he gets her, we end him.”
“Basically, we just fool him,” Ivan says.
“Basically,” Damon replies. “It’s really simple and safe, and nothing will happen to Dove. She is family, our sister. That fucker won’t get his hands on her again.” Damon’s words are directed at Zane, who is still silently sulking beside me.
“When are we going to do this?” I ask.
“Tomorrow. That’ll give us time to come up with a detailed plan. I have a few men tailing him now. We’ll place Dove somewhere he can find her and pull her out before anything happens.” Xander smiles and slaps a hand on the table. Ivan grunts, Damon nods, and Zane grabs my hand and pushes away from the table.
