by Olivia Ryann
She turns her face toward me, and I can tell that something is wrong. Her face is pink and puffy. It’s cold out here, and she exhales a puff of breath as she wipes at her face.
“Come in here,” I call to her. “It’s too cold for you to be hanging around out here.”
She shivers underneath her dark peacoat, obediently hustling inside. Once I shut the door after her, she goes to sit on the biggest couch in the living room without a word to me.
Eyebrows raised, I follow her. “What’s wrong?”
She sits on a pile of chenille throws, pulling them onto her lap. Her eyes are on her lap, unreadable. She just shrugs one shoulder, wiping at her face again.
“Is this about your run in with Dryas?” I ask, sitting down beside her.
Her eyes jump up to meet mine, surprised. “Elian told you?”
I nod. “He did. What did my brother say that upset you so much?”
Her eyes jerk down again, her mouth pulling into a tight pucker. “Did Elian happen to tell you about how Dryas kissed me?”
My mouth creases into a frown. “He did, yes.”
“Tell me again about how Dryas isn’t a threat? How he showed up when you weren’t around, offering money and passage if I would get out of town and not tell you where I was going.”
This shocks me. “What? Did he say why?”
She plucks at the blankets in her lap, her brow drawing down. “Because you care for me. I don’t factor into the future he has planned for you, I guess.”
I try to think of what that could possibly mean. “I find that… odd.”
“He said you called a meeting of the three brothers for later tonight. He said you were going to tell one of them to take over the city, and it is my fault.”
I don’t know what to say to that, exactly. I haven’t told Fiore of how I feel about her. Dryas is right about what I plan on announcing tonight, though.
I just can’t give New Orleans the attention it deserves, not with Fiore here. With her blonde hair and plump pink lips, she would prove too tempting a target, that’s for sure. I would just be counting down the hours until she disappeared, her dead body delivered to me sometime later.
“Dryas was right when he said I called a meeting,” I say carefully. “It’s not anybody’s fault, though.”
She tilts her head to the side. “And the part about leaving New Orleans? Is that right?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. He had to know that at the rate I was going, I want to be around for that long. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends for years. He had to have known that I wouldn’t last much longer. I can’t even say that I’m surprised that he guessed at what the meeting is about.”
Her face, normally so expressive, is closed and shuttered. I wish like anything that she would look up at me, but I don’t want to force her. Besides, there is plenty on my own mind and in my own eyes that I wouldn’t want her to see.
I stand, stalking to the kitchen and opening a wine bottle. I pour myself a glass, nearly chugging it. I pour a second, drinking half of it in one gulp.
It’s easier for me to blunt the edges with a little wine, than it is to sit with the truth for one goddamn minute. I don’t want her to see it, either.
I wouldn’t want her to see what a terrible man I am. How murderous I am. How I just take what I want and leave the rest to burn.
I wouldn’t want her to know about my past either. How before her, I dated strictly prostitutes, women that I could pay for their company and silence.
And above all else, I wouldn’t want her to know that I’ve completely fallen in love with her. I would do anything to prevent her from seeing me, really seeing to the depths of my soul like that.
The idea of being seen, being judged, being really truly being visible and naked to another human being like that… it terrifies me. Because, at the end of the day, I need her to look at me with some kind of respect, even if it’s learned the wrong way.
I know, without a doubt, that if she looks at me any other way I will fail to live up to her imaginings.
When I turn from the kitchen island, Fiore is there. Watching me with those baby blue eyes. Threatening me without saying a fucking word.
Does she even know what she’s doing to me right now? I would be that she doesn’t.
“Have a glass of wine,” I say, turning and grabbing a second glass.
She clears her throat, her voice weak. “No.”
Cocking a brow, I turn to her. “What do you mean, no?”
She folds her arms across her chest, the movement clearly defensive. “I said no to the wine. What’s the problem with that?”
I narrow my gaze.
“You usually don’t say no to me.” Pouring a little half glass, I slide it closer to her. “Indulge me on this.”
She looks at it but doesn’t take it. Squaring her jaw, she shakes her head. “I can’t.”
Then her eyes widen as if she’s said too much. “I mean, I don’t want it.”
But it’s too late. I can almost smell her deception, so desperate am I to change the subject.
“You said can’t.” I set my glass down hard, causing it to ring out loud in the echo-y space. “What did you mean by that?”
Fiore tosses her head, biting her lip. Her voice comes out all breathy. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” I round the kitchen island, stalking her mercilessly. “I think it’s something more than that. What did you do, take a drug like Xanax? Huh? You’re afraid the alcohol will interact with it?”
She looks pissed off, biting off her answer. “No.”
For every step that I take forward, she backs up. We move in a slow dance as if we are the hunter and the hunted. “Trying to lose weight? Maybe you’ve learned how many calories are in wine or something, hmm?”
She hugs herself and scowls. “No.”
I smile wickedly. “I don’t think it’s for religious reasons. Otherwise, there are a lot of things you would have to give up, and I don’t think you’d like it.”
She blushes. “I could be religious. You don’t know.”
“I would know by now,” I tell her, reaching out and grabbing her by the waist. “You wouldn’t have enjoyed half of our fucking so goddamn much, I assure you.”
She squeals as I pull her closer. “Monster—”
I kiss her, taking her mouth with as much passion and dominance as I can muster. Bruising her lips, I drive my hands into her hair. When I pull away, she’s breathing hard. Her breath fans my face, her eyes scanning my expression closely.
“I could make this much easier on you,” I taunt. I know she’s just being stubborn at this point, so I am too. I don’t even care about whether or not she drinks. It’s just a means to an end, at this point. “You just have to say yes to the wine.”
“Monster, I can’t,” she insists softly. “I… I don’t want to hurt the baby.”
I actually let out a bark of laughter. Where did she get the idea that this would be a funny trick? “Yeah, right. What baby?”
I expect her face to crinkle with laughter, but she remains sober and serious. “I just found out last night. I’m pregnant.”
I feel her shrink back as if to ward off a blow from me. And then I realize that she’s entirely serious. She’s carrying a child.
My child.
Not just that, but she’s actually worried that I will beat her for it. I stare at her for a few seconds, the shock of her announcement making me freeze. Fiore twists, trying to get out of my grasp. I instinctively hold her tighter, watching the fear play out on her face.
“You’re sure?” I say, trying to calm my racing pulse. There is a faint roaring in my ears, the sound far away.
Her eyes filling with tears, she bites her full bottom lip and nods. When she speaks, she flinches. Her voice is so low, it’s barely there. “Pretty sure.”
My grip on her eases. I look down at her flat stomach, still in shock. “A baby?”
I put my palm over her stomach as if I can someh
ow feel the life growing inside. I’ve never considered the concept of having a child with half of my DNA. A little boy with my dark hair, or maybe a little girl with Fiore’s gorgeous blonde tresses?
A tear breaks away and tracks down Fiore’s face. “Are you angry?”
I shake my head. “How can I be? I’m just… I’ve never considered that anyone would have my child.”
Even saying it feels funny on my tongue. I cup her cheek, smoothing away the track her tear left behind with the pad of my thumb. Her eyes have never looked so blue before, her skin never so translucent. Even her lips look more pink than I thought possible, her hair blonder.
“You thought I would be angry? You thought I would lash out at you?” I wonder.
She swallows heavily. “Yes.”
“I could never do that to you now. I… I can’t say that I’m a different person than I was a few months ago, but… I love you, Fiore.”
She flinches again. Her responses are so unexpected. “You’re just saying that because I’m pregnant.”
I lean in and kiss her again, taking her lips with all the slow-simmering passion that has been building in me since I realized that I love her. She gasps, her lips parting. Inviting my tongue’s invasion, she brings her hands up to burrow in my hair.
My tongue sweeps her mouth. I love the way she tastes, like honey and mint and just a hint of sweet vanilla. I love how responsive she is to my kiss, her fingers curling against the back of my scalp, breathing hard, her chest heaving. I dip her back a little and see how her eyes close, her eyelashes falling against her cheek.
“I love you, Fiore,” I whisper when I can bear to break away. “I’ll love anything you bring me, even if that means a child. I promise you that.”
Her eyes open, tearful. “Are you sure? Because I can’t stand the idea of somehow driving you away. I love you too, so much that it hurts.”
My mouth kicks up. “I swear it.”
She hugs me then, and I pick her up, carrying her backward toward the bedroom.
18
Fiore
Monster carries me backward into the bedroom, carefully dropping me onto the bed. I look at up him, at his tall, suited form. I want him naked, on top of me, driving into me. I want him to lick my pussy, to tease my clit until I call out his name and drive my nails into my back. I want him to grab my hair, to flip me over, to take me from behind, sinking into me in that brutal way that I crave.
I fucking want him, so much. Over and over, in every conceivable way. I think that I will always want him this badly. At least, I hope so.
I blush and bite my lip when I realize that I’m already getting wet.
He does this to me.
“Like what you see, princess?” he growls.
Monster reaches a hand down to my face, brushing my hair from my eyes. He tucks it gently behind my ear, fixating me with his piercingly grey eyes. Then he chuckles.
“It’s okay to look. I like you looking at me. I like seeing you looking at me more.”
“Even then, it’s rude to stare.” I avert my gaze and focus on my knee instead.
“Princess, you can stare at me all you want. As long as it’s me you’re staring at like that, I’m happy. Fucking ecstatic, actually.” He cups my chin so that our eyes meet. He holds my gaze, still not moving to hide any part of himself.
I start tracing the lines of his chest, then the ones of his arm, all the way to his hand. Next, I trace the muscular lines of his stomach down to his hips.
His breath hitches, and his cock twitches. I bite my lip, and he lets out a low moan.
“I’m really trying to let you do your thing here, princess. But you’re really fucking killing me.”
I grin at his words. A shiver of excitement runs up my spine and I can feel myself growing wet already.
“Fuck,” he breathes as I run my hands over the outline of his hard cock over his briefs. “I can’t fucking wait to get inside of you.”
He flips me onto my back and presses his body to mine, kissing me deeply. He traces the neckline of my tank top as he runs his other hand up and down my thigh.
I moan as he reaches for the hem of my shirt, but I am surprised; instead of my shirt, he starts pulling off my yoga pants. I help him, and the second he has gotten them off, he’s like a kid in a candy store.
He runs his hands up and down my smooth legs, looking at them like they are something delicious to be eaten. The look makes the fine hair on my neck rise. I’m glad that I know him because if a stranger looked at me with that kind of naked lust in his eyes, I would be afraid.
With Monster, though, fear has become… not impossible, but unlikely. I don’t feel it when he looks at me, or when he kisses me. I certainly don’t feel afraid when he holds me close. I shut my eyes for a second, nearly overcome with sensation and emotion at once.
“Fiore,” he says softly. “Look into my eyes for a second.”
I open my eyes and he drinks me in. He spends a minute running one hand up and down my side, leaving goosebumps trailing along my skin. He teases my nipples through my shirt, planting soft kisses on the exposed skin of my stomach.
I barely manage a nod. My skin is on fire everywhere he touches me, aching for more. Each stroke on my nipples causes my pussy to clench.
I am pretty sure that by now, my panties are drenched. I would be embarrassed if I could bring myself to think that far. But all my thoughts are completely focused on what he is making me feel.
His hands slide my panties down, and my tank top disappears over my head. If this were anyone else, I would be trying to cover up, but I force myself not to. The way he is looking at my body, his eyes dark with lust, make me feel hot and naughty.
He does this to me.
He drinks me in with his eyes, growling softly as his fingers stroke my dripping slit.
“God, Fiore. You’re so fucking wet.”
He brings his glistening fingers to his lips, licking my juices off the tips of his fingers. He closes his eyes and lets out a low moan as he tastes me on his hands. “Fucking delicious, princess. So sweet. I can’t fucking wait to taste more.”
I focused on his fingers that are once more playing with my clit, teasing the seam of my pussy.
He kisses me deeply, hungrily. I could feel his rock-hard cock digging into my soft belly. I moan loudly, still unable to form any words.
“Fuck, Fiore. I’ve never come from just sounds before, but if you keep that up, that might change.” His voice was husky, low.
“Yes, please Monster! Please!” I beg.
I barely register that I haven’t showered yet before his mouth is licking slowly but hungrily along my seam. Up and down, sucking in my lips, darting his tongue into me before starting all over again. He lets out a low moan again.
“So fucking sweet, Fiore.” He moans before taking my sensitive clit in his mouth, sucking lightly, his tongue flicking against my bud.
It’s a little like being struck by lightning, that first touch of his tongue to my clit. His tongue is turning me into a shivering, moaning maniac.
I try to buck my hips against him, unable to contain myself any longer, but his strong hands on my hips keeps me in place. He licks and sucks until I see nothing but stars and fireworks, feeling like I am about to fly away if it wasn't for him anchoring me.
Far too soon, the pressure that had been building up inside me releases into a ball of light. My mind shatters in every different direction possible as I scream his name, digging my fingers into his shoulders and tugging at his hair.
He keeps licking, although he is very gentle now, aware of how sensitive I must be. I have to pull him away, and he comes up looking immensely self-impressed.
“Enjoy that, did you, princess?” he says, licking at his mouth.
“You know I did.” I tug him close for a kiss and taste my own juices, sharp and sweet.
He takes his shirt off and pushes his pants down his legs. He moves to lie between my legs, our embrace one of comfort, of two
people who know one another. I can feel the blunt tip of his cock against my entrance, positioned perfectly to slide into my pussy. He doesn’t though.
He just kisses me hard. I can still taste myself on his lips. Somehow, it just arouses me even more. I moan into his mouth and hear a low sound at the back of his throat.
“You want it?” he says, so low it’s almost a whisper. “Tell me how badly you want my cock, little girl.”
“You know I do,” I whisper, writhing.
He moves a little, shifts very slightly, and I can feel the promise of his weight, his body heat. I shiver.
“Are you sure?” he asks, teasing now.
“I want you inside of me. Now! Please, Monster.”
He lets out a low growl but doesn’t say any more. I can feel his hard cock gently pushing harder at my entrance. He slides in slowly, watching my every facial expression, seemingly gauging my every move.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he breathes as he stretches me inch by inch.
Pleasure fills my body, taking over every inch of me. The entire world disappears. All that exists is the feeling of his cock in me, his body on mine, breathing deeply and softly, growling and moaning into my ears. He kisses me and whispers to me.
“Fuck, you feel so good, Fiore.”
He rocks into me with perfect rhythm, with just the right amount of pressure. I can feel my body begin to tighten, to draw taut like a bowstring.
It is so good, yet almost painful at this point. I feel so delightfully used, feel stretched out by his massive cock. I know he isn’t going to stop, but that doesn’t keep me from encouraging him.
“Don’t stop, Monster. I’m so close,” I urge. “I’m right there. Make me come.”
I know he can. I will him to release the tension building in my breasts, in my core. His breathing is ragged now. I can feel his muscles starting to shake as he thrusts into me more forcefully, but he is still taking care not to hurt me. He is nearly there, and I am right there with him.
