A Cruel Love: Cavalieri Della Morte

by Soto, S. M.

  “Please kiss me,” I whimper over his lips, needing to feel this connection with him.

  He growls low in his throat, then like his composure snaps, he pulls me flush against his body, my tits smashing against his chest, and deepens the kiss, his lips gliding over mine, his tongue tangling with my own. I moan into his mouth, enjoying the way his warm body feels against mine. I get lost in him. In every piece of a man I know can easily break me, snap me in half with his bare hands. But none of that matters.

  I tug on the back of Percivale’s neck, trying to pull his body over my mine, but he leans back, resisting me. I try again, but he tears his mouth away from mine, eyes wild with lust. I can see the worry in his eyes; he doesn’t want to take it too far with me. And for some reason, the fact that he, a dangerous man, can care that much, it touches my heart.

  Even though I can see the heat burning through his eyes, practically incinerating me, he says, “We’re not doing this, Blossom.”

  A day before? His words would’ve hurt me. Made me feel insecure. But I understand why he’s saying them—why he’s trying to stop this from happening.

  “You know you’re the first man I can actually see myself being with, since Ryan?” I say quietly, sliding my hand around his neck, burrowing my fingers in his hair. From that first moment Percivale walked through my bakery doors I knew he was different. What I felt for him was different. I want to explore his body sexually and I want him to explore mine, something that has never crossed my mind since Ryan. My feelings toward the man are so contradictory, they make my head hurt.

  He scares me, but he also makes me feel safe.

  He is dangerous, but in moments like these, I can see there is another side to him.

  I want him to touch me, defile me, but I also want him to hold me and cherish me.

  He clenches his eyes shut at my words, prompting me to keep going. “Want to know something else? You’re the first man I’ve wanted to touch me. That I’ve wanted to do anything sexual with. There have been others, but they were…tests. A way to force myself to feel something other than him. The first day you came in my bakery, I reacted to you in a way I’ve never reacted to any other man before, Percivale. So believe me when I say, I’m sure that this is what I want to happen. I want this with you. And I think you’re the only man who can give it to me.”

  Perc opens his eyes, and the softness there gives me pause. It’s not a look I’d ever associate with him, but reflected back at me? Looking at me the way he is? I revel in it. He surprises me when his mouth swoops down and I prepare for a rough kiss, but instead, I get soft and gentle. He catches me off guard when he turns my body away from his and curls his large arms around my body. I nestle back into his warmth, expecting him to take advantage and slide inside of me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he tightens his arms until I fall asleep.

  The next morning, I wake up before Percivale, the weight of his arm still slung over my body in an almost possessive way. I try to wiggle free, but the muscles tighten, keeping me in place. So instead of slipping out from his hold, I turn in his arms to face him, watching him sleep. His long dark lashes are fanned across his face, casting dark shadows on the sharp edges of his cheekbones, making him look softer than he normally does. I can see a man who looks closer to his age instead of a ruthless enemy who kills for money.

  “Stop it,” he orders, even with eyes firmly shut.

  I tense on the bed, and my brows furrow. “Stop what?”

  “Looking at me like that—looking for redeemable qualities when there are none.”

  “I-uh… I w-wasn’t,” I stammer, trying to ignore the violent flutters in my belly at the sight of his eyes opening and the smirk pulling across his lips. “I think I’m going to shower now,” I mumble feebly, trying to think of anything to get away from him and get a grip.

  “I’ll join you.” That crooked smirk deepens. A hot, uncomfortable blush stains my cheeks as I work to untangle myself from his hold.

  “No, thanks,” I mumble, sliding out of the bed. A squeak flies past my lips as his hand tugs on my wrist lightly, stopping me in my tracks. I glance back, startled to find him standing right behind me, towering over me. He reaches out toward me, the dark expression clouding his features at war with his soft touch along my cheek.

  “That’s where you’re mistaken, princess. I’m not giving you a choice.”

  He bends down, uncuffing my ankle, and before I can utter a single word, he’s already padding into the bathroom and turning on the shower. The pipes scream as they wake, sunlight barely seeping in through the windows with how early it is. A glance at the bedside clock tells me it’s only six in the morning. At the commanding tone of Percivale’s voice, my body jolts with fear and most abundantly, anticipation. I’m conflicted over my feelings. I shouldn’t want Percivale this way, especially after last night. I tried to hold back with him, but there is a large part of me that’s thrilled by his insatiable need. He’s everything I’m not. He has the guts to do and say everything I don’t. He makes me want to be bad like him. He makes me want to do bad things.

  “You won’t like it if I have to drag you back in here, kitten.” I hear the challenge in his voice, and though it should scare me…it doesn’t. Not after last night.

  The man is giving me whiplash.

  Swallowing the golf-ball-sized lump in my throat, I force my legs to take me into the bathroom, and my mouth goes dry when I see Percivale’s clothes already discarded along the floor.

  Sweet Jesus.

  It takes every last ounce of strength and willpower to keep my eyes averted and undress. Instead of shame consuming me, all I feel is nervousness…and excitement. I shed my clothes with jerky, nervous movements until I’m naked, gooseflesh covering every inch of my skin. My legs threaten to give out as I climb under the warm spray. I feel the warmth of his body so close to mine, and my stomach tumbles, curling with lust and nausea. My brain and body are at war with each other. The shower is small, much too small for both of us, but Percivale uses that to his advantage. Crowding his long, wet build with mine, he pushes his front into the back of my body, making me choke on my breath. His hands trail across my wet flesh so seductively I have to bite on my bottom lip to stave off the whimper.

  Grabbing the body wash, he squirts the soap into his large palms and lathers it. He starts first with my shoulders, his calloused palms massaging the soap into my skin. He then works his way up my neck, seductively touching me, trailing his long, lithe fingers down my sternum and around the globes of my breasts. His palms steer clear of my nipples and instead trail down my stomach. My breathing is ragged now, my breaths coming short and fast, causing the shower to fog with steam and my breasts to rise and fall helplessly.

  Percivale’s descent down my body stops just before my pelvic bone, and a small groan of displeasure tumbles past my lips, making him chuckle. I feel his body vibrate behind me with it. He places his lips along my neck, at the curve where my shoulder and collarbone rest. His tongue swirls across my skin, sending chills down my spine and causing my core to clench with need. He poises his lips near my ear, the deep timbre of his voices hitting me in places I never knew existed.

  “Turn around.”

  My body follows the command before I can think better of it. Before I know it, we’re stomach to chest, my nipples grazing the skin of his abs. I watch in utter fascination as the water and soap suds glide down each rivulet of his abs, slowly seeping into the dark trail of hair leading to the one place I’m too afraid to look. Before I can get too caught up in my head, Percivale places his finger under my chin, lifting my face up, tearing my gaze away from his abs. Our eyes clash and a surge of electricity vibrates between us. It’s like a live current. I watch in slow motion as the droplets of water roll down his tan face, his gold chain standing out against his skin, and then before I can process it, his lips are on me, taking. His tongue is swirling with my tongue. I let out a moan that he swallows as he deepens the kiss.

  Of their own accord, my
hands glide over his broad shoulders and wrap around his neck, pulling his mouth farther into mine. I’m so caught up in the kiss, so caught in him and what his skillful mouth is doing to me, I don’t even register his hands tightening along my skin or when he lifts me up, carrying me out of the shower. My legs immediately wrap around his waist, and the sheets of the bed are at my back before I know it.

  Percivale kisses me and the effect it has on me is astounding. It captures my soul. His tongue softly tangles with mine, tantalizing me. His hands trail across my flesh, groping my skin in ways that make me crave him. He trails his mouth down my neck, pausing over my chest. Percivale sucks on my nipples, toying with each peak until I’m writhing beneath him, my pussy throbbing painfully, with a racing heartbeat of its own. He trails his tongue down my stomach, dipping into my belly button and moving south until he sucks my clit and flicks the hardened nub with his tongue. Shocks of pleasure rock through my system. My hands fly to his head, and I grind my hips over his tongue, chasing that deliciousness I can feel building in my core. He fucks me with his tongue, dipping it in and out of me, forcing me to maintain eye contact with him. It’s hot. So incredibly hot.

  “Please,” I pant, tugging even harder on the strands of his hair. I don’t know what I’m asking him for, I just know I need more of something. More of him, more of his body. I need it like I need my next breath. Percivale scoots up my body and rests back on his knees as he slowly leans back, baring his lower half to me. I’m still squirming beneath him, my pussy throbbing painfully.

  My eyes widen and my mouth waters as I gaze at his…his…oh god. His cock springs up, proud and straining at attention. The head is glistening with precum, and I have the urge to rub my finger over the tip and swirl it around the head. I watch in fascination as he grips his cock, the veins straining as he pumps himself slowly at first. The sight causes my core to clench, nearly knocking the breath out of me.

  “If you can’t do this, Blossom, you need to tell me right now,” he grits out, like he’s barely restraining himself.

  “Please, I need you.”

  That seems to do it. Heat flares in his eyes, and then he’s swooping down, taking my lips in one fell swoop. He presses the head of his cock against my entrance and I stiffen, waiting for the pain of him sliding in, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he teases me with his head, dipping the tip in and out, then rubbing it against my clit. The friction lights a fire in my belly and has me gasping for air.

  “Percivale,” I whimper just as he slides into me. My walls stretch to accommodate him, and there’s a slight sting there, but it isn’t completely painful. He thrusts in and out of me slowly at first, letting my body get used to him, and with each stroke, I feel the heat boiling in my stomach, stoking the fire.

  My eyes flutter closed. I never knew it could feel like this. That sex could be like this after what happened with Ryan. But the way Perc is taking me, the way his gaze is roving over my skin, committing every part of me to detail, the way his hands toy with my body—all of it is better than I could have ever imagined.

  Percivale lifts my legs, changing the angle, and plunges deeper into me. He winds his fist in my hair and tugs, arching my neck back so he has access to the delicate column. He sucks my skin, his tongue swirling delicious patterns along my neck and breasts that have me clenching around him.

  “Look at that pretty pussy,” he sighs as he pulls all the way out, then slams back inside to the hilt. “See how your cunt swallows my dick, Blossom?”

  With his hand still knotted in my hair, Percivale tilts my head down so I can see, and when I do, my stomach clenches violently. A whimper tumbles past my lips as I watch the erotic sight of his shaft disappearing in and out of me. Each time he slides out, his cock is glistening, drenched in my juices, and every time he slides back in, the tip of his cock hits just the right spot. It makes my insides tighten and cramp each time he presses against it.

  When Percivale untangles his hand from my hair and presses his thumb against my clit and swirls in circular motions, I stop breathing. The sensations, the pleasure, it’s all too much—I don’t know if I can handle it. My eyes go hazy and start to flutter closed, but then he slams into me, making my eyes jolt open.

  “Feel that, Blossom?” he asks, sweat dripping from his body, making his skin glisten. “I’m the one doing that to you. This cunt is mine, not anyone else’s, understand me?” he growls, his pace quickening.

  “I-I…you-u—” I can’t even string together a sentence, my words failing me.

  “Say it,” he demands in between thrusts. “Say you understand that I’m the one inside you, Blossom. No one else but me.”

  As he grinds out the words and pounds into me, I finally understand. He’s trying to make sure that I stay here in the present with him. He doesn’t want me to associate my past experience that I had with Ryan and confuse it with him. And I do understand. I know without a doubt, after this, I will always belong to Percivale. What’s even worse? I’m okay with that.

  When his pace quickens and his thumb presses more firmly against my clit, it all becomes too much. Like a carbonated bottle being shaken, my orgasm slams into me, exploding—detonating in the very air around us. I scream his name, my nails digging into his skin as the orgasm rips through me, my vision going in and out with how aggressive it is.

  Almost like he was waiting for me to cum, Percivale suddenly pulls out of me and strokes his cock until hot strings of his cum decorate my stomach and breasts. His eyes are like pools of lava as he stares down at me covered in him. With his hand, he rubs his cum around my breasts, swirling it around my nipples. He then drags his finger through a particularly large puddle and rubs it around my lips. They part on reflex and his finger dips inside, coating my tongue with his semen. The taste is unfamiliar, a little salty but not disgusting.

  “Mine,” he says firmly, once I’ve cleaned his finger of all his cum. His words make my stomach flip and tingle. Warmth fills my chest. Percivale drops onto the bed next to me, breathing deeply after that workout he had.

  “I think I need to shower again,” I state, already feeling his cum drying and sticking to my skin.

  “No.”

  My brows dip. “What? Why?” I ask, turning to look at him.

  “Because I want you to remember why that’s painted on your skin. When the day goes on and you feel my seed on your skin? I want you think about why it’s there. How it got there. And most of all?” he whispers huskily, leaning forward. “I want you to remember that you’re mine. Body and soul. Understand me?”

  My core clenches and my lips part in anticipation.

  “I’d never be able to forget,” I whisper, and his eyes flash with heat. I can tell he likes that answer. Very, very, much.

  Percivale pushes up from the bed and surprises me when he flips off all the lights and climbs back in beside me. I lie flat on my back awkwardly, wondering what comes next, but he seems to figure it out for me. Percivale slides his arm around me and pulls me into his side.

  My heart pounds as I fall into the warmth of his body and use his firm chest as my pillow. His scent envelops me, wrapping me in a warm, protective embrace. I fall asleep almost instantly. My last thought is one that scares me: I might be falling for my captor.

  Closer

  Percivale

  The startling warmth of her body pressed against mine has me glancing down for the hundredth time within the last hour or so. My eyes are glued to her, still unsure what the fuck to do. I’ve never slept with a woman before, let alone let them lie in my arms. Scratch that—I’ve slept with plenty of women; I’ve just never woken up with one beside me in the morning or slept with her and stayed long enough to allow her body to practically wrap around me like a contortionist. I shift beneath her, craning my head to look down at her to give myself a better view.

  Her blonde hair is splayed out across my chest. Her delicate features look even more soft while she sleeps. I’ve never seen anything so pure or innocent, and here it is l
ying in the arms of a killer. A killer meant to snuff out all that purity and innocence.

  I fucked up last night. Then again this morning. Even I know that.

  I shouldn’t have fucked her. Probably should’ve just killed her, right then and there when she scratched me. But I couldn’t do it. I didn’t even fucking want to. I’ve never struggled with any decision as much as I’ve been struggling with this one. Just the thought of getting rid of Blossom makes my lungs squeeze. If things were different, if I was different, I might even consider keeping her because she isn’t so bad. If I had the time, I’d break down her defenses. Unwrap her layer by layer and make her mine.

  She’s infuriating, infatuating, and so fucking sexy my cock thinks it belongs to her.

  The fact of the matter is, I’m running out of time. We’re both running out of time. I have four more days until I’m due to meet with Arthur. He’s going to expect the job to be done. I just don’t know if I have it in me to get rid of this woman in my arms.

  I manage to slip out of the bed without waking her and get dressed. She doesn’t even stir. With my bag in hand, I glance over my shoulder and my eyes settle on her bare leg, no sight of the cuff or chain. Part of me wants to snap it back on her, just to be safe, but the other part, the bigger part of me, hopes that this time when I leave it off, she’ll run, far, far away from me—for both of our sakes.

  Closing the door softly behind me, I climb into the car and snatch her file out of the compartment. I flip more thoroughly through the paperwork, no longer looking for dirt on her, but someone else entirely. When I find his name under her high school reports, displayed with pictures of her prom night, my lips thin into a grim line as I stare at the man in the photograph.

  Ryan Eastlake.

  With a new plan in motion, I snap the file shut and pull my phone out of my pocket and start putting the pieces together.