Damiano tries to help me walk back upstairs to his room, but I tell him I’m fine and leave him alone with Ras. They’ve got logistics to work out, and I’ve got some thinking to do now that there’s a real chance I’ll be talking to my sister sometime in the next two days.
There’s a weird combination of longing and nerves tangling inside my stomach. Of course, I’ll be thrilled to hear Gemma’s voice. But how will she react to hearing from me after so many weeks of being missing? For all I know, she thinks I’m dead.
She might also think I’m a traitor.
I shut the door to Damiano’s bedroom and press my back against it. Will I have to tell her the truth about my marriage for her to forgive me for running away? I’ve spent so long trying to shield her from the horror of my life that everything inside of me rebels at the idea. But she won’t betray Papà’s secrets unless I explain everything to her. I have to convince her I’m not being coerced. Otherwise, she may well run to Papà and tell him I’m alive as soon as we hang up. She might even think she’s doing me a favor.
It isn’t fair of me to keep her in the dark. She’s going to be engaged soon, if she hasn’t been in the time I’ve been gone, and if she knows what happened to me, she might fight harder against an ill-chosen match. If I was there, I could fight on her behalf. I could make sure she wasn’t given to a monster.
There’s an urge to run back down to Damiano’s office and demand Ras take me with him, but it’s a fantasy. Even if I return to New York—the thought makes me shiver—there’s nothing I can do for my sister when I’m labeled a pariah. I’ll probably be barred from seeing my siblings and be placed under house arrest.
No, it’s time to just admit that when it comes to my duty as an older sister, I majorly fucked up. Add that to the list of many. There’s nothing I can do besides tell Gemma the truth and beg for her help.
Sinking down into a chair, I turn to the window and see my reflection. Damiano called me a survivor.
Yeah, I guess I am. Unlike Lazaro’s victims, I’m still alive, but at what cost?
It would be easy to stay. To accept Damiano’s protection and wait to see if he’s able to take back his throne. I could be his kept woman. I could share his bed until he grows bored of me, which he inevitably would. Afterward, he’d probably set me up someplace. It would be a comfortable life.
And one where I’d spend my days wallowing in guilt and regret.
My stomach dips.
I’m far too early on my long road to redemption to take the easy path.
A knock on the door snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Yes?” I call out tentatively.
“It’s Mari.”
I rise from my seat. “Come in.”
Damiano’s sister enters the room with a few shopping bags in tow. “I thought I’d get you some things your size,” she says, handing them to me.
Damiano’s guys must have managed to clean all evidence of what happened with Nelo earlier, otherwise I doubt Martina would look so unbothered.
“Thank you,” I say as I accept the bags and peek inside. “Wow, Mari. This is a lot. You really didn’t have to.”
“I did if I want my clothes back,” she retorts with a teasing grin.
“Ah, right.”
“I’m just kidding,” she says. “I don’t mind sharing with you, but I thought it might be weird for my brother to see you in my clothes.” She glances around. “Especially now that you’ve…moved in here.”
I laugh awkwardly. Is there a playbook on how to talk to the sister of your ex-captor about the fact that you’re sleeping with him?
No?
Better change the topic.
“I never thanked you for the pool day,” I say.
Mari climbs onto the bed and folds her legs under her. “Don’t worry, I know Dem didn’t really give you a chance. I had a fun time.” She looks like she wants to say more but hesitates.
“What?” I ask.
She averts her eyes as I pull off my T-shirt and tug a new one on. “That man that came with him…”
I’m not surprised he stayed on her mind. “Giorgio, right?”
Martina’s cheeks tinge pink. “Do you think he’s…”
I venture a guess, “Handsome?”
“No. I mean, of course he is,” she says in a rush. “But that’s not my question. Do you think he’s a bad person?”
Alarm bells go off inside my head. “Why would you ask that? Did he do something?”
Her eyes widen. “He didn’t. It was just something he said. You know what? Forget it.”
“What did he say?” I press. Giorgio appears to be Damiano’s friend, but I’m not about to put blind faith into a friendship I know nothing about. If he overstepped with Martina, I need to know so that I can tell Damiano to pick his friends more carefully.
Martina picks up one of my new shirts and starts examining the label. “My brother said he and I met, and I felt awkward because I couldn’t remember it. I told Giorgio I wasn’t sure how he slipped my mind. He didn’t say anything at first. I thought he was offended, but then he said it’s for the best I didn’t remember him. He said he isn’t someone girls like me should know. What did he mean by that?”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Mafia men. Sometimes I think it makes them feel good to intimidate women for no reason, even women who have no interest in them. Martina’s probably never going to see him again. “I wouldn’t worry about it,” I tell her. “Truly bad men don’t waste their time warning you about how bad they are.”
She lifts her gaze off the label, considering what I said. “Hmm. You’re probably right.”
We play dress up for another hour, and it turns out Martina has quite an eye for estimating sizes. Nearly everything she bought me fits perfectly. When the sun sets, we head down for dinner and discover Damiano left earlier and isn’t back yet, so we eat without him. I try to stay up until he returns, if only to get an update on Ras’s mission, but before long, my eyes have trouble staying open, and I climb into bed. His scent wraps around me and lulls me to sleep.
A warm body sliding in beside me wakes me some time later. Outside the big window, it’s nearly pitch black, with clouds obscuring the moon, and only a few stars glimmering in the sky.
A hand curls around my hip. “Did I wake you?” His voice glides over my neck and chest and settles somewhere between my legs.
“Yes, but I’m glad you did.” I turn onto my back and look at him. In the darkness, all I see is the straight line of his nose and the glint of his eyes. “Where’s Ras?”
“He just texted me he landed in New York.”
“That was quick.”
“He took a flight to Valencia and jumped on a chartered flight from there.”
“Won’t Sal wonder where he went?”
“Ras lost his tail at the airport in Valencia.”
“But won’t Sal be suspiciou—”
He places his index finger on my lips. “Vale. Take a deep breath. It’s a calculated risk, just like everything I do. Ras could have had many reasons to go to New York for a short stint and going to talk to your sister is not one that’s on Sal’s radar.”
I exhale and force myself to relax. “You must be tired.”
“Yeah,” he says quietly, “but I’m never too tired for you.” He slides his hand from my hip to cup my right breast. A satisfied rumble leaves his throat. “God, you feel good, Vale. I fucking love these tits.”
He dips his head to my chest and licks one nipple before moving to the next one. I bury my fingers in his hair and tug him closer.
Damiano presses his nose against the valley between my breasts and inhales. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you all day.”
“Just today?” I tease.
He rises on his arms above me and huffs a chuckle. “Every day since I first laid eyes on you. You somehow made even that blue uniform look good, your little ass sticking up while you cleaned my office.”
I smile. “I knew you were looking.”
He glides down my body until his face is in line with my new panties. He licks me over them, teasing my clit just a tiny bit. “I was always looking at you,” he says against my pussy, and it feels deliciously dirty. “Now, let me see.”
I lift my hips so that he can slide my underwear down and then widen my legs. He sucks in a breath, mutters approvingly in Italian, and buries his head between my legs.
The scratch of his short beard against my thighs drives me nearly as mad as the sensation of his tongue lapping at my clit. I coil his hair around my fingers and tug on the strands, but no matter how I pull him toward me, he doesn’t relent. A coil tightens more and more inside my lower belly, until I’m thrashing in his enormous bed, desperate for a release.
He wraps his big hands around my thighs and lifts me up, never allowing his mouth to leave my pussy. Just when I think I might die if I don’t come right fucking now, he takes my clit into his mouth and sucks. Hard.
I burst. My entire body is flooded with pleasure. He lowers me down on the bed, pushes two fingers inside of me while I’m still pulsing with my release, and somehow, inexplicably fucks me with them until I’m back on the edge again.
“Oh my God,” I sputter.
He smirks. “He’s not here. I am.”
A shiver runs down my spine. “I think I might come again.”
“Good girl,” he says hoarsely. “Show me what you’ve got.”
He’s relentless, hitting this spot inside of me over and over again, and then suddenly, it happens. I think I see my entire life flash in front of me. I arch my back, cry out his name, and feel myself fall over that cliff again.
He groans. “Fuck me. Baby, you just squirted.”
Despite the mind-numbing euphoria, his words are so shocking I get my wits about me quick. “What?” I can’t see anything, but when I sit up and press my hands against the sheets, they’re wet. “No way.” I’m absolutely mortified.
“Fuck, I can’t believe I didn’t see it.” Damiano reaches over me to flick on the light on the nightstand and then moves back to where he was.
I thought he’d look disturbed.
Instead, he looks like someone proudly admiring their work as he stares at the ruined sheets. He looks so pleased, and it immediately eases my embarrassment. Then he lifts his eyes to me and gives me a spirited look. “We’re going to do that again with the lights on.”
I laugh and fall back on the bed. “Later, please. I don’t think I’ll survive another one.”
He’s there above me seconds later. His mouth finds mine, and he kisses me for ages. I’m desperate to return the favor, even if I’m sure I won’t be nearly as adept at it as he was with me. When I ask him to sit up on the edge of the bed, and he understands my intention, his gaze grows hooded.
I push my nervousness aside and wet my lips. I can’t believe what I’m about to say. “You told me you’d fill every one of my holes with your cum. So far, you’ve been under delivering.”
A lazy grin spreads over his lips. “You’re fucking filthy, Vale.”
I rub one cheek against his hard length, then the other. His fingers tangle with my hair, but he allows me to control my movements. I lick the underside of his cock and swirl my tongue around the top.
He groans. “Put it in your mouth.”
I do, and I take it as far as I can manage, which isn’t all that far. He’s thick and long, and when my mouth doesn’t reach more than halfway down, I wrap my hand around the base.
He seems to like it. His breathing grows harsher the more I stroke him, and his grip on me tightens.
“Relax your throat,” he says. “You can take me farther, baby.”
He’s right. I push my butt harder against my heels, and he angles his hips forward so that it’s a straight line between his cock and my mouth. It hits the back of my throat, and my eyes water, but somehow, I manage not to gag.
“You’re doing so well,” he whispers. “Fuck, Vale. You’re fucking perfect.”
The next time he pulls out, I remember how amazing it felt to have him suck on my clit, so I try the same on him. He makes a tortured moan. “I’m going to fill your pretty little mouth with my cum,” he pants. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
I can’t speak, but I increase my speed to show him that’s exactly what I want, and moments later, I feel him stiffen even more and explode on my tongue.
This is the first time I’ve tasted a man. The taste isn’t entirely pleasant, but God, the act of making him lose control is delicious enough on its own. I fall back on my hands and watch him try to gather himself. He’s barely holding himself up. His elbows rest on his knees, and he looks so spent, so shattered, it fills me with pride. I made him look like this.
He props his forehead into his palm and peeks up at me. “I’m afraid of what you’ll do to me after you get more practice.”
“Maybe I’ll tie you up and have my way with you,” I say. “They say payback is a bitch.”
He barks a laugh and pulls me to his lap. “I think I’ll enjoy that kind of payback.”
I nuzzle my face into his neck and smile against his skin.
A sense of peace washes over me.
I wish the sun wouldn’t rise.
I wish I could forget everything and stay like this with him forever.
