Dark Romance Collection: A Sexy, Dark Bundle

by Huntington, Parker S.

  My eyes searched for Damian’s, but he’d left the main table, where I should have been. We needed a public outing apart to assuage valid concerns of favoritism, and it would have dampened the De Luca name if it were Damian who sat on the outskirts. Better me than him.

  Damian and I had done our push and pull. I gave him first pick at the roundtable. He gave up negotiations in Vince’s name, knowing how much Vince meant to me. I gave him the seat at the main dining table. I had no doubt he’d do something for me soon.

  I was there for him.

  He was there for me.

  Tale as old as time.

  “How did you get into this party?” She studied me. “Vincent Romano’s death has been the hottest ticket around town. Everyone who’s anyone has been trying to join the proceedings. How are you here?”

  I turned to her. Disbelief suffused me, but I didn’t let it show. “Pardon me?”

  She opened her mouth to retort, and I could predict a sophomoric, stick-up-her-ass response, but her eyes widened as she caught something to the side. “Oh, my.”

  Damian approached us, and he looked angry. I doubted the anger was directed at me, but it was there, and it roared. I’d never seen him like this. The woman beside me shifted in her seat. Though she’d bragged all night, she looked flustered in the presence of a syndicate boss. Despite her prejudices against the De Luca name, which she’d been trashing all night, she reacted to him in ways I hated but couldn’t blame her for. After all, Damian looked in a league of his own.

  He didn’t stare at anyone but me when he reached my table. “Want to leave?”

  Something had clearly happened, because this was the opposite of drawing attention away from our relationship. My eyes skimmed the room. People at neighboring tables stared at us. In the center of the room, Bastian looked in our direction, but I couldn’t quite see from here to know for certain that his eyes were on us.

  Something had happened, and Damian was looking at me to be there for him. I studied him. His hair stuck up a bit, like he’d run his hands through it a few times. His eyes were dark, his cheekbones and jaw all sharp and angry lines. In his hands, he clutched his phone in a tight grip. His knuckles became a little white at the tips.

  I knew that, if I left with him like this, I wouldn’t be “hopping.” I’d be leaping.

  But he needed me.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Depends. Are we hopping or leaping?”

  I swallowed hard and took in his angry, shaking hands and the way my instincts wanted to do anything and everything to help him. “Leaping.”

  He was so focused on me—and perhaps erasing his pain—that I didn’t think he even registered the people around us as he spoke, his words blunt and unapologetic. “We’re going to the library, and I’m going to fuck you against a bookshelf until all the books have fallen to the floor and the only thing standing upright is us. I’m warning you now, before you choose to leave with me, that the sex will be angry, and I won’t stop until I’ve fucked the ten years we spent apart out of our systems.”

  Marquessa gasped. Two Camerino soldiers shared insecure looks, ones that questioned their masculinity. To be fair, Damian didn’t need dirty talk and crass words to be a filthy alpha male. He had it in his eyes. That undress-me stare, which always made me feel like he was inside me, even when we stood across the room from one another.

  Except now, he was here, giving me an out in the filthiest way, and I didn’t want to take it. I wanted to leap, fall, crash into him. I wanted to take his pain, bottle it up, and bury it somewhere it couldn’t hurt him anymore. I wanted him to lose himself in me.

  I stood, turned to my table mates, pasted a fake smile on my face, and focused on Marquessa in particular. “It was lovely dining with you all tonight, but my American public-school teacher, non-Oxford attending ass is about to get fucked a dozen different ways.” I winked at Marquessa. “Next time you’re in Italy, feel free to reach out to my family.”

  She tilted her chin up, but her eyes darted to the possessive way Damian wrapped a hand around my waist. “And who are they?”

  “The Vitali.”

  I caught a hint of her widened eyes before I turned and left with Damian. A few minutes later, we sat in the back of his town car on our way to the library. The divider gave us privacy as his palm rested on my upper thigh.

  He turned to me. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you say your last name with pride.”

  “Don’t get used to it.”

  His eyes dropped to the tattoo on my finger, and he nodded. “I didn’t plan on it.”

  Don’t lie, because the same people who believe your lies are also the ones who believe in you.

  Unknown

  I sat at the edge of the night table in my little nook room. People read and studied elsewhere in the library, but it was quiet in here. Damian had promised me angry sex, and if he delivered, they’d hear. I couldn’t bring myself to care.

  Damian had brought up a bottle of whiskey with us, but he hadn’t opened it. He sat on my bed, the bottle resting beside him. To the world, Damian De Luca was educated, filthy rich, and practically owned an entire town.

  He controlled the largest continental state in the wealthiest country in the world. While much of that consisted of less-than-legal dealings, his generations old, above board ventures rivaled the biggest old money tycoons in this country. A large portion of De Luca territory included impressive oil lands, and I knew Damian had money and power.

  While I saw that power in him, I also saw the parts of him he never let anyone else see. The fractured parts of his broken childhood. Living with him, I’d heard his father beat him with belts, emotionally abuse him, and degrade him over and over again. He’d taken the abuse, his eyes calculated, waiting for a moment to strike. So, I wasn’t surprised to hear that he dethroned his father after I left.

  But I knew others had been taken by surprise. Papà had called me, demanding an explanation for the unexpected coup. He couldn’t understand Damian, and I couldn’t explain what others refused to see.

  Damian’s patience and strength earned him his throne, but they also pushed aside his equilibrium. Maybe this was the turning point. Maybe he finally let himself break, and I had the privilege of being here to pick up the pieces. Back then, I’d done nothing, but I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  I waited for him to say something. He slid off his suit jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt. His cufflinks came off next. He tossed them to the side and took his time rolling up his sleeves.

  Every move he made felt deliberate, and I knew he didn’t intend for them to turn me on, but they did. My nipples pebbled in anticipation. He was hurting, I was turned on, and our relationship was too messed up for me to process.

  “Do you believe in love?” The hoarseness of his voice ripped through the air.

  “Damian—”

  “I don’t mean us. I mean in general.” His eyes darkened as I hesitated, thinking of all the relationships I’d been privy to. “So, that’s a no.”

  “No, I believe in love. I’ve just never seen it in real life.”

  Besides ours, which was a fucked-up kind of love if there ever was one.

  He read between the lines. “Including ours.”

  My hands clutched the nightstand I sat on. “I didn’t say that.”

  He gripped his shirt at the row of buttons and yanked, impatiently ripping his shirt apart and the buttons with it. “My mom loved my dad. Actual love. Not the kind you fake or think you have, but the kind you know with every fiber of your being exists.” He strode toward me and stepped between my legs. “I never understood it, but she trusted him with her heart. Do you want to know what he did with it?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “He trampled on it, and then he killed her. My dad killed my mom.”

  I shook my head. I’d heard rumors, but they were just rumors. I remembered the phone he’d had clutched in his hands when he approached me
at dinner earlier. “Were you on the phone with your dad earlier? Did he tell you this?”

  “He said he killed her before she could kill him. Want to know why?”

  I shook my head. I really didn’t, but I’d listen because he needed me to. “Why?”

  “Because there’s no such thing as love.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  He’d always been the one of us who believed in love, giving me time to overcome my fear while he helped me. His words struck anxiety into me, and I felt the shift in my body as I realized that I didn’t have as long as I needed to get my shit together. Things happened. Life changed. If I wanted Damian (and I did), I had to make a move.

  His voice was rough and raw. “I told him I love you,”—my hands shook at his revelation—“and he told me there’s no such thing as love.”

  “Your dad is a psychopath and a liar.” I shook my head and took the biggest leap I’d ever taken. “I love you, Damian. Love exists, and I know this because I love you.”

  I wanted to bring him to me. To hold him. To be the one who renewed his faith in love. Instead, I waited for him to make a move. He didn’t respond to my declaration, and while that cut deep, I persisted.

  “Have you ever seen a wolf?” I placed a hand on his chest and leaned into him. “The wolf and the cougar are on the top of the food chain. Whereas the cougar is solitary, the wolf operates in a pack. He is faster, smarter, more ferocious.”

  His eyes were hooded, but they focused on me, urging me to continue.

  I explored his body with my hands and hooked my legs around him. “The cougar will lose a battle against a wolf, and he will die alone. But the wolf finds his pack. Makes them better. And when he finds his mate, he mates for life, defending her viciously. Loyally. Forever. Until death do them part.”

  I used my legs to push him toward me, until his body pressed entirely against mine. “Angelo De Luca may be the cougar, but you are the wolf, Damian. Angelo will die alone, and you will thrive, surrounded by people who are loyal to you and someone who loves you.”

  His eyes shuttered before they opened and locked on mine. His hand cupped my face, but the touch was anything but gentle. “Last chance to leave, Princess.”

  “I’m staying.” I turned my face, pressed a kiss to the center of his palm, and laughed gently onto his skin. “And I’ve told you already, Damian. I’m the knight.”

  “You’re right. Tonight, I won’t treat you like a princess, but I won’t treat you like you’re the knight either.” His free hand traced a path from my outer thigh to my waist, and he felt dangerous in a way I craved. “I’m giving you a chance to leave.” His expression—dark and anguished—should have been enough to make me run the opposite way.

  But I needed to at least try to ease some of his pain.

  “I don’t want to leave.” My voice firmed, and I tried again with more confidence. “I’m staying.”

  We’d finally begun to rip the veil away, and I felt everything falling apart in the best of ways. I was done with hiding things from him. I was done fearing the commitment. Angelo De Luca was a goddamned liar, and my dad was no better. Damian and I weren’t our parents. We were better, and we’d make this work because we actually loved each other. It had taken ten years, but it was happening, and I couldn’t be happier.

  Damian’s expression darkened, and his voice hardened. “Take off your dress.”

  I did.

  I bared myself to him—body, heart, and all.

  You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment if you don’t trust enough.

  Frank Cane

  He took a step back and admired my naked body. My breasts moved as I breathed, and I wore no panties as I sat on the table before him. My nipples were so hard, it was almost painful. He stared at me, and I hoped being near me drove the bad away.

  He didn’t make a move, so I goaded him. “I want you to do whatever you want to me.”

  “Careful what you wish for.”

  I ignored his warning. “I want you to hold nothing back.”

  Still, he held himself back.

  I lowered my voice until it sounded husky, and my eyes begged him to lose himself in me. “You promised me angry sex. You said you’ll fuck me against the shelves until the books scatter to the floor, and the only thing left standing is us.”

  Like a flipped switched in him, he spoke with a hardened voice. “Spread your legs.”

  I parted them, feeling vulnerable and bare while his shirt hung open on his frame, and he still wore a pair of slacks.

  “Every time I see you, I can’t believe how stunning you are. You have no idea how hard it was to know you were out there, and I couldn’t wake up next to you every morning.”

  I closed my eyes, too cowardly to face him. “I’m sorry.”

  “If we do this, you’re mine forever. There’s no going back.” His eyes dipped to my hand. “Do you know what that tattoo means?”

  I gave a nervous laugh. “Of course. I wouldn’t tattoo something on my body that means nothing to me.”

  Truth was, it did mean something to me. I just wasn’t sure why. I’d woken up one night with a ring drawn around my wedding finger in Sharpie; traced it regularly with a henna pen; and when that wasn’t permanent enough, tattooed the exact line one drunken night in a shoddy tattoo parlor in the city.

  His eyes dipped to my pussy, which laid bare before him. “Come here.”

  I slid off the table and approached him. He circled me until he stood behind me, reached around my body, and cupped one of my breasts in his palm. It spilled out of his hand, and we both looked down at where he touched me.

  He pinched my nipple. “I’ve wanted to slide my cock between your tits for the past few weeks.”

  I leaned my head back on his shoulder. “I touched myself while picturing you coming on my face last night.”

  He leaned forward and bit down on my shoulder. “Dirty, dirty girl,” he praised. His other hand pressed against my hip, and he slid it lower until he slipped past my lips and brushed against my clit. “This won’t be what you’re used to from me.”

  Damian’s dad had just admitted that he’d killed Damian’s mom. I’d be concerned if Damian acted normally. This was our push and pull. I hurt; he healed. He hurt; I healed. Breaking that cycle would be breaking us.

  “I don’t need normal.” I reached behind me to touch him, but he swatted my hand away. I bit my lip and groaned. “Use me, Damian. Bite me. Tease me. Fuck me. Do whatever you need.”

  Just, please, be okay.

  He tilted his head. “Are you on the pill?”

  “IUD. I’m clean also.”

  His lips curved up, and his tone became mocking. “Are condoms too good for the princess?”

  I ignored his taunts. “If we’re both clean, and I’m on birth control—”

  Damian’s laughter cut me off. “Who knew you’d be so needy, begging me to take you bare?”

  I rolled my eyes, though he couldn’t see them. “Just fuck me already.”

  His breaths came out ragged and rough, and a thrill shot through me at being able to take his mind off his parents. But then his hand connected with my bare ass, and I shouted out. It hadn’t hurt, but it had surprised me. Not being able to see Damian was driving me crazy.

  I stilled as he lowered himself to his knees. Both of his palms gripped my ass cheeks, and he bit down on one of them. Hard. I screamed out, loud enough for people in nearby rooms to hear.

  He spoke against my skin. “Both hands on the bookshelf.”

  I placed both hands on the nearest bookshelf. I could feel his breath on my pussy as it parted for him, my ass in the air as I leaned forward. He licked my slit from behind, his tongue going straight for my clit.

  My heart beat out of control as he buried his face in my skin. I’d never been eaten out from behind before, and it was far more intimate than I was used to. His tongue stroked my outer lips. His teeth grazed the skin, and he sucked my right lip int
o his mouth until my moans drowned the room. He was so hungry for me, I could have mistaken him for a starved savage, prepared to eat me. I wasn’t sure I wanted to come out of this alive.

  “Damian,” I groaned out his name. Barely.

  “By the end of the night, you’ll scream my name so loud, you’ll lose your voice.” His lips brushed my clit as he spoke filthy promises against my pussy.

  He slid three fingers inside me, not even bothering to check if I was wet enough. But I was, and when his fingers parted my lips, my wetness dripped down my pussy. He licked it up as he thrust his fingers in and out. I moaned as he wrapped his lips around my clit and pressed opened mouthed kisses to it.

  “Tell me how you want it.” His demand scorched my skin.

  “Faster.” I panted at the feel of him. “Curl your fingers and press them against my g-spot.”

  “Beg for it.”

  I hesitated.

  “Beg.” His tone left no room for argument, and the last thing I wanted was for him to stop.

  “Please, Damian.”

  “Beg harder.”

  “Please. Please. Please,” I chanted. I rode his fingers, pushing my pussy against him until I was surprised he could even breathe. “Faster.”

  He maintained the same pace, lazy strokes along my slit. “What do you want?”

  “Faster!” My frustration built as he refused to give me what I needed. Instead, he slowed, and I groaned. “What the fuck?” I tried to take matters into my own hands, pushing down until I rode his fingers as best as I could.

  His dark, amused laughter sent chills along my body, and then he pulled his fingers out of me, stood, and slammed his erection into me. I screamed out in surprise as his hard thrusts pushed my body forward into the bookshelf. My voice echoed along the walls, and I hoped the library was nearly empty by now, because I was being loud with a capital L.

  My grip on the shelf tightened as he picked up his already furious pace. His hands remained planted on each side of my hips to steady me, and he fucked me hard and fast. With each thrust, more books fell off the shelf and onto the floor. I couldn’t bring myself to care. A knock on the door sounded, but we ignored it, my little pants filling the air.