Taken for his Captive: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Torenti Family Book 4)

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Taken for his Captive: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Torenti Family Book 4) Page 5

by Mae Doyle


  There was a look in his eyes that told me that if I gave him a chance, that he could easily burrow under my skin and dig in his claws. I’d never get rid of him.

  Fine, then. I just couldn’t ever let my walls down like that. If I did and Nicolo got settled, then I’d never be free of him, and as pleasant as that seemed right then, I knew that it would be a BFM.

  Big Fucking Mistake.

  “You have something you want to say?” The corner of his mouth quirked up as he looked at me. I drug my gaze up from his gorgeous mouth, skipped past his dreamy eyes, and settled it on his hairline.

  Good. There wasn’t anything sexy about a hairline, so that was the absolute best location for me to look. Couldn’t get turned on and make stupid mistakes when staring at a guy’s hairline.

  “I need you to take me home. Where the hell are we, anyway? And how the fuck do you know my dad?” I paused, trying to ignore the pit in my stomach. “How did you know my dad?”

  “Let’s eat first,” he said, nonchalantly walking around the counter into the kitchen. “And put the poker back before someone steps on it. You probably need a shower, too, unless you always look and smell homeless.”

  He turned to open the fridge and I took a sneaky sniff of my armpit. Wooo, okay. I did need a shower, but I wanted the answers to my questions first.

  Nicolo started putting together sandwiches as I put the poker back by the fireplace.

  “You’re not vegetarian, are you?” He asked, and I shook my head. “Good. There’s nothing worse than shacking up with a hippie and knowing that you can’t even enjoy a good steak.”

  “Shacking up?” I narrowed my eyes at him as I pulled out a stool and sat at the counter. “Is that what you think we’re doing, because I guarantee you, I’m not sleeping with you.”

  He laughed and slid a plate across the counter to me before getting me some water from the sink and leaning against the counter to take a bite of his sandwich. “Fuck, that’s good, Isabella. You gotta try it.”

  I had to admit that it looked good, and my stomach rumbled at the way it smelled, but I didn’t want to eat a single bite until he answered my questions. From the way he was plowing through his sandwich like it was the first thing he’d eaten in days, though, I had a pretty good feeling that he wasn’t going to talk until he was finished eating so I finally picked mine up and took a bite.

  Chapter 8

  Nicolo

  See, all Isabella needed to shut up was something to shove in her mouth. She was devouring the sandwich, mayo and mustard dripping out the back of it, and I couldn’t help but think that I had something else she could use to shut up.

  Something meaty. Grinning to myself, I washed down my lunch and dropped my plate in the sink before taking hers. She popped the last bite of her lunch in her mouth and then drained her cup before leaning back on the stool, her good arm tapping out a rhythm on the counter.

  “You need to answer my questions now,” she snapped.

  “Aren’t most women supposed to get nicer when they eat? Maybe you’re still bitchy because you haven’t showered and you can’t stand the way you smell.” I wrinkled my nose at her, taking in her freckles, the way her tits moved when she breathed, how her eyes narrowed when she was angry with me.

  “I’ll be nicer when you take me home. And when you answer my questions, asshole.”

  “Asshole? Harsh.” I walked past and her and flopped onto the sofa. Even after grabbing some sleep this morning I was still bone tired. There wasn’t anything like a solid night’s rest and I had a sneaking suspicion that I wouldn’t get a good one until Isabella was out of my hair.

  Or until she finally relaxed after a good deep dicking. I’d hardly touched her, but the little contact we had had only made me more confident that all she and I needed to do was bang one out and we’d relieve some of the tension between us.

  She followed me to the sofa and sat down at the far end, pulling her legs up into her body and making herself as small as possible. I noticed that she was still ginger with her arm, and I remembered that I needed to change her bandage today. After her shower, which she still had to take.

  “Where are we?” Even calmed down and fed, she still looked a little like the hellcat I’d met last night and my cock thickened in my pants just looking at her. It didn’t hurt that she was still wearing my flannel shirt or that a few of the buttons had come undone.

  “In a cabin.” I decided to start with the obvious and see how it went from there. When she set her mouth into a straight line, I thought I’d give her a little more. “Family land out in the middle of nowhere, about three hours from town. If you were thinking of trying to walk home, give it up. You’re on five hundred acres and we’re the only ones here.”

  A flash of surprise appeared on her face but was gone as quickly as I noticed it. No, not surprise. Concern. Little Isabella who thought that she could take on all of the bad guys by herself and then escape through a window suddenly didn’t feel so hot shit after finding out how secluded we were.

  “And my dad? How do you…did you know him?” There was a definite trace of sadness in her voice when she talked about her dad, but the hard set of her chin and the way she glared at me after she asked the question let me know that she wouldn’t allow any sympathy. I’d better answer the question and then we’d move on.

  I chose my words carefully. “Your dad was a friend from work.”

  “You mean with the mafia.”

  I considered what to say. Her face was set hard against whatever emotions she was feeling. Knowing her dad, it was him who had taught her how to control them without them getting the better of her. He was one of the strongest men that I’d ever known, and the fact that I couldn’t save him…

  Fuck, it sucked. Now his daughter sat across from me and I vowed that I would do anything that I had to in order to keep her safe. She wouldn’t like it, of course, but until I could guarantee that nothing was going to hurt Isabella, she was mine.

  “Yes. With the mafia. I’d known your family forever, but your dad was the one I was closest to. We all knew each other, even your mother’s family.”

  “The Torentis.” She sounded tired, like she knew of her mother’s relatives, but maybe didn’t know them very well. Or maybe she knew all of the shit that they got into and didn’t want to think about it.

  “Like I said, all families know each other to some extent.”

  “She wasn’t really involved with her family, you know. My cousins – Arlo and Roque – we talked about them sometimes, but we always lived so far away that we never really hung out.”

  Spreading out a family wasn’t a really common thing to do, but it was a great way to expand the land that a family owned. When her mom met her dad and they fell in love, the Torentis were sad to see her go but happy about the relationship that it would create. “It was a good way for the Torentis to take over more than one city. Sucked for family relationships, but I get why they did it,” I told her.

  Her dad had been brilliant, and even though he took his wife away from the Torentis, he’d managed to carve out his own slice of life in another city based on his family name. The Espositos.

  Fuck, he didn’t just carve it out. He ruled that shit on fear. Everyone knew that if you wanted anything done, you had to go through him. It wasn’t an option. You didn’t go through Dante Esposito and it would come back to fuck you in the ass.

  “And what about you? Italian name, Italian face, bright blue eyes.” She tilted her head as she looked at me like she could figure out my story just by the way I looked. It was slightly unnerving, even more so when she didn’t move after asking her question.

  “What the hell does it matter to you?” Actually, I was a little surprised that she’d picked up on the fact that I had blue eyes. Most people didn’t get to look in them very long before I killed them, but I couldn’t help the fact that all I wanted to do was stare at her.

  “I think I have a right to know the asshole who kidnapped me.”
/>   “My dad is Italian. My mom wasn’t. It’s that simple, and if you’d ever paid attention in high school biology, you’d probably understand how genes work.”

  She scoffed and leaned forward, pulling a pillow to her chest. I could still see a little down her shirt – see the way her tits were pushed up when she leaned against it. She thought that she was protecting herself, but all she was doing was drawing attention to the fact that I wanted her.

  “I understand plenty, Nicolo. I guess the one other question that I have is what the fuck you think that you’re going to do with me here. You can’t just keep me here. People are going to be looking for me. They’ll miss me. I have friends. I have a life.”

  My nostrils flared. The last thing that I wanted her to say that she had was a boyfriend. I couldn’t handle the thought of someone else getting to look at her or touch her. I wanted to be the only one allowed to be that close to Isabella.

  “Boyfriend?” I couldn’t help myself, but the look on her face gave me the answer that I needed.

  No boyfriend.

  Good.

  “You should shower. I bought you some bathroom things and there are clothes for you in the room.” On second thought, I wondered how the fuck she was going to shower. She needed to get clean, and I needed to wash her wound, but I couldn’t see how she could easily wash her long hair without a little help.

  She saw the expression on my face. “I don’t need your help,” she told me, standing up. “Just undo the belt so that my arm is free and I’ll be fine. Don’t you dare come in.”

  I unhooked the belt and tossed it onto the sofa. She gasped as her arm was freed and turned away from me before I could get a good look at her.

  Fine. She wanted to suffer through the most painful shower of her life on her own? I was happy to help her, but I wasn’t going to burst in on her and push myself on her. No, I was going to make her call me, make her ask me for help.

  I had plans for Isabella to be begging me for more than help washing her hair before too long. She could pretend to be strong all she wanted, but she just didn’t know that I’d already chosen her to be mine. I had no idea how long we were going to have to be here together, but I wasn’t about to let her walk away from me when it was all settled and safe for us to go back to the city.

  Isabella was a prize, and I had my eye on her. She was delicious. Pure. Perfect. It would take all of my self-control not to take her before she was begging me for it, but I had time. Someone needed to break Isabella and show her that she couldn’t be in control all of the time.

  Fuck. My body was taut and every nerve felt like it was on fire. I watched her shut the door to the bathroom even though wanted to burst into it behind her and fuck her against the wall. My cock ached to be thrust into her tight little cunt and to feel her heat around me.

  But not yet. I would take Isabella for my own, and I would make her come on my cock, but not until she was ready for it. Not until she begged me.

  It might take a while, but I had nothing but time.

  Chapter 9

  Isabella

  The pain that shot through me when I tried to slip Nicolo’s flannel shirt off of my body was so intense that I collapsed to the floor in the bathroom. Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead and I wiped them away angrily.

  I wasn’t supposed to be weak. I was supposed to handle anything and everything that life threw at me, but these recent events were proving to be a bit too much, even by my standards.

  I dropped my head and didn’t even try to fight the tears that dripped down my nose. They splashed onto the floor in a little puddle, but I didn’t care.

  Nothing mattered anymore.

  After wallowing for long enough for the shooting pain in my shoulder to subside, I sat up and slowly tried to strip. I was able to get down to my tank top, but there wasn’t any way that I could get it off without help.

  The thought of showering with it on crossed my mind, but then I’d have to try to wash my hair. I couldn’t. I knew it, Nicolo knew it. The only difference between the two of us was that he was waiting patiently for me to call him in and I’d rather choke on my tongue.

  Finally, I pushed myself away from the mirror and turned to the shower. It was easy enough for me to turn it on, but I knew that as soon as I stepped inside the hot water and the steam that I was on my own.

  I hated myself for it, but I opened the bathroom door a crack and poked my head out. He was still sitting in the same place on the sofa, reading a book like we were on vacation and he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “Nicolo?” My voice trembled a little so I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hey. Nicolo.”

  He looked up at me over the top of his book, and even from across the cabin, I could see how fucking bright blue his eyes were. They were unnerving and I remembered what part of his body I was supposed to stare at. Taking a deep breath, I forced my gaze up to his hairline.

  Better.

  Except, even there, I could see how thick and soft his hair looked and I wanted to run my hands through it. I looked higher, over his head, at a particularly quaint picture of a bear trying to get into a birdfeeder.

  “Did you need something? Couldn’t find the soap?” He still didn’t move, even though I was pretty sure that he knew exactly what I needed. He just didn’t want to help me.

  “I need your help.” There. It was like a bandaid. Better to just rip the fucking thing off all at once then to try to baby it off in the hopes that, by drawing out the pain, you could actually make it hurt less. There’s no hurting less.

  There’s just pain, no matter how you do it, so you might as well fucking go for it.

  “With?”

  Fucking asshole was going to make me beg him for help, but there wasn’t any way that I was going to get on my knees for him. “Washing my hair.”

  “In your tank top?” He turned a page of his book and kept on reading while he waited for me to figure out what I was going to say.

  “And with getting that off.” I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes so that I wouldn’t have to see the smile that I was sure was spreading across his stupid face. Of course he was going to enjoy helping me, and of course he was going to enjoy me having to get naked in front of him.

  “I’ll be a gentleman,” he promised, finally dropping his book on the sofa and crossing the room to me. I hesitated, holding the door shut for a moment before he growled. “I can’t help you shower if you don’t let me into the bathroom, Isabella.”

  The low rumble of his voice tore through me and for a moment, I found myself wishing that he wouldn’t be a gentleman. I couldn’t help that part of me wanted to feel his hands on my body, to feel his desire take over as he bent me over in the shower and…

  I shook my head to clear it. Definitely not going to sleep with my captor. Not a fucking chance.

  I opened the door for him, turning around at the same time so that he couldn’t see the look on my face. When he gently lifted up the hem of my tank top, his fingers lightly skimming my sides, I released a breath that I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding.

  I waned him. Desire coursed through my body, settling between my legs in a warm pool and I squeezed them tight, hoping that he wouldn’t notice the effect he had on me.

  He did, of course, and I flushed when I heard him chuckle.

  My tank top fell to the floor in a soft pile of fabric and I walked to the shower, holding my bad arm as close to my body as possible to keep it from getting jostled. Nicolo followed behind me, pulling the shower curtain out of the way for me to step through.

  I was determined to keep my back to him. He could look at my ass all he wanted. I wasn’t happy about that, but it was still better than the alternative of having him closer to my naked chest.

  The thought of him soaping me up, sliding a washcloth over my tits and down my sides made me shiver.

  “Too cold?” He asked, plunging his hand into the spray by my face. Steam filled the shower and would quickly fill the ti
ny bathroom, and I shook my head.

  “It’s perfect,” I told him, before stepping under the water. It pounded on my head, the loud sound drowning out my thoughts. I reached up with my one good hand to brush my hair back, but my hand collided with his.

  I froze, unable to move, but Nicolo didn’t seem phased. He ran his hands through my hair, pausing only to soap up. The rich lather felt like heaven on my body as it dripped down my shoulders and my back and I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped my lips.

  His strong hands massaged my scalp, working the soap into my head, making me shiver under his touch. I realized that I could stand there all day long getting my hair washed, but after a few minutes, he lightly touched my back, turning me so that I was facing away from the spray.

  The hot water cut through the suds and he lightly touched my chin, lifting my head so that he could fully rinse me. I didn’t even realize that he could see my body. My eyes were tightly shut, my lips parted slightly.

  My hair washed, he lathered up a washcloth. I peeked, unsure if I should try to take over from him, but there was a look of pure concentration on his face that told me to not move. Slowly he washed my back, swirling the washcloth around my ass and then back up to my shoulders. He lifted my arm and washed down my side.

  Even though the water was almost scalding, which was how I liked it when I showered, my nipples were hard. He had to notice the effect that him touching me was having on me.

  He had to notice that I was having trouble taking deep breaths. I’d moved to sucking little wisps of air through my parted lips. It was too difficult for me to do much of anything else.

  “Turn.” His voice was dark and commanding and I did what he asked without even realizing it. The washcloth slipped up my other side and around my arm before he placed his hand on my good shoulder and turned me to him.

 

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