I was a second away from stripping her naked, bending her over the desk, and fucking her raw.
What the hell was I thinking?
Oh, that’s right, I wasn’t.
My anger spirals as I sweep a hand across my desk, sending the papers, stationery, and laptop flying.
Christé mou.
Breathe.
I suck in a breath, then let it out just as fast. I have to suppress the urge to roar like a fucking beast.
What the actual fucking fuck?
I’ve never lost control like this before. Yes, I have a quick temper, and if I want something, I take it. But…
Oh. Fuck.
The truth slams hard into my gut.
Lifting a hand to the back of my neck, I try to focus on calming down so I can think clearly.
Instead of finding my bearings, the memory of Tess’ swollen lips, the sound of her moans and whimpers, the feel of her heat clamping around my finger – it all bombards me.
She tasted like innocence… until she didn’t, and she melted on my tongue like a sinful prayer, rubbed against my hand, and rode my finger like a fucking pro.
My arm falls to my side. I breathe in and out, then admit what I’ve been doing my best to deny – I want her.
The thought of her putting herself in danger drove me insane. When James let me know she was missing, I almost lost my goddamn mind. I couldn’t do shit because I was elbows deep in Sicilian blood and guts until late last night.
James let me know when they found her at the park, and I told them to keep a safe distance. I wanted Tess to think she got away with her little escape stunt while my anger brewed, and I thought about the ways I would punish her.
None of them involved kissing her or making her come on my finger.
Fuck.
I don’t know what it is about the woman, but since the first day we met, she’s had a hold on me I can’t shake.
Her defiance that used to anger me now turns me on. I want to corrupt her innocence, want to see her on her knees as I feed her my cock.
Jesus.
I want Tess like I’ve never wanted anything in my life.
Placing my hands on the edge of the desk, I lean forward as I try to make sense of my feelings. Jealousy, possessiveness, overprotectiveness – they’re all new emotions I haven’t felt before, and they rattle me.
Fuck do they rattle me.
But there’s the small problem of family. I can’t just fuck Tess out of my system and discard her like yesterday’s trash.
Not because I’m worried about how the rest of the family would react. I couldn’t care less. It’s because I’d have to face Tess after I’m done using her, and that’s just something I’d rather avoid.
The solution is simple. She’s off-limits. At some point, we’ll have to talk about what happened, or maybe I’ll be lucky, and she’ll behave herself from here on out and avoid me.
The thought doesn’t sit well with me at all. I don’t want Tess avoiding me.
Fuck.
A knock at the door has my eyes snapping to it as I straighten up. “What!”
Andreas comes in, a smirk plastered to his face. “You decent?”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
He gives me an amused look. “I came to knock earlier and heard you were busy.”
Worry slithers through my veins. “Athina and Basil?”
“They left before things got heated in here.”
Thank fuck.
Looking at the mess I made when I swiped everything off the desk, Andreas wags his eyebrows at me. “So you and Tess? When you said she’s driving you insane, I didn’t think you meant you wanted to fuck her.”
“I didn’t fuck her,” I grumble as I walk to the door.
“Sure sounded like you did,” he mutters behind me.
I hate that Andreas heard the sounds Tess made, and it has me instantly feeling aggressive. “Unless you want to die today, you’ll shut the fuck up,” I threaten my friend.
He brings his hands up in the universal gesture for surrender. “My lips are sealed.” Following me out of the office, he reminds me, “We have one meeting, then you can take the rest of the day off and get some rest.”
I almost laugh. “Me? Rest? Look who decided to be a comedian today.”
A frown forms on Andreas’ face. “You need some time off, Nikolas. When did you last get more than three hours sleep?”
“Sleep is for the dead.” Taking my phone from my pocket, I dial James’ number.
“Boss?”
“You don’t let her out of your fucking sight.”
“Yes, boss.”
Worrying about the state Tess is in after the… altercation in the study, I ask, “Is she home?”
“Yes.”
The words cling to my tongue, fighting not to leave my mouth. It feels unnatural asking, “Is she okay?”
“Okay?” James asks, not understanding.
“Emotionally!” I bark. “What state was she in when she got home?” Fucking hell! Anger vibrates beneath my skin.
“Ah… she seemed… okay,” he answers carefully.
Ending the call, I grumble, “If I hear the word okay one more time today, I’m killing someone.”
“Okay,” Andreas fucking pipes up as we climb into the armored SUV.
Leaning back against the wall, I pull my phone from my pocket to take a photo of the fucker we’re torturing.
“Smile,” I smirk at the Sicilian bastard. He just gives me a glare, but the exhaustion and pain seep through in his gaze. Taking the photo, I send it to Manno’s number with a message.
Someone will talk. It’s only a matter of time before I’m on your doorstep.
I take in the broken state of the man, wearing nothing but his underwear. I have to hand it to the Sicilians; they’re loyal to a fault.
Tilting my head, I stare harder at the man, wondering what it will take to break him. Removing fingernails and pulling teeth sure didn’t make him spill his guts.
Letting out a sigh, I tuck the phone back in my pocket and push away from the wall. Coming to a stop in front of the Sicilian, I tilt my head and lock eyes with him.
“You ready to talk?”
“Fuck… you,” he grits out from between the teeth he has left.
Signaling to Elias, I order, “String him up.”
Elias and Craig untie the Sicilian, and dragging him over to the noose, they tie it around his neck. After they position a crate beneath his feet, his toes barely able to find their footing, I swipe a knife off the table and walk closer.
“The sooner you talk, the sooner I’ll put you out of your misery,” I warn him. “It’s up to you what happens next.”
He just gives me a dead stare, seemingly already resigned to his fate.
“So be it.” Slowly, I stalk around my prey. “There are a couple of spots on the human body that can make a grown man weep.” Stopping behind him, I press the blade to his Achilles tendon, and painstakingly slowly, I slice into his flesh.
His body tenses, and he does his damndest to keep the cry back, but eventually, it echoes in the room. He lets out a frustrated roar as he struggles to keep his footing from the blood spilling down his heel.
“You don’t want to die, but you won’t talk,” I observe. “One hell of a predicament you find yourself in.”
“Fuck…” he sucks in a strangled breath, the noose tight around his throat, “you.”
Pressing the blade to the back of his knee, I slash through the skin and muscle, rendering his left leg useless. His roar fills the air, leaving the stale taste of impending death on the back of my tongue.
Taking a step back, I let my eyes drift over the Sicilian. “Where is Manno holed up?”
His lips part, and I slowly shake my head in a silent warning for him to think twice before he answers me.
Still, he sticks to his guns. “Fu… ck… you.”
I watch as he tries to keep himself from hanging, his right foot struggling to take his full weight.
The fucker manages to evade death for almost five minutes before his foot slips from all the blood. In his panic, he kicks the crate over, his legs trash, his arms strain against the zip ties. Gasping, his face turns purple.
It takes another two minutes before the fucker’s body jerks through his last futile gasps for air.
“Drop him in the alley where you found him,” I order. Setting the knife down, I walk out of the room.
I didn’t become as powerful as I am by showing mercy. Mercy is for the weak.
