“God,” I cry, bucking, gripping his hair, pulling him closer.
“Say my name,” he growls, adding another finger, thrusting deep, pumping in and out, his mouth latching onto my clit.
I tense, my heart wild as every nerve cell seems to focus on what he’s doing between my legs. “Good God!” I grit out, panting, clutching his hair harder, pulling his head to me, rocking my hips.
He grazes my clit with his teeth, making me jump. “Say my name!”
“Luciano!” I almost weep, arcing, trembling. He doesn’t stop, he buries his face in my pussy, rubbing his fingers against a spot that makes me jerk hard. “Stop,” I gasp. “I can’t!”
When did he ever? He doesn’t stop. Instead he pushes a finger against my other entrance. Slick with my juices he thrusts inside without hesitation. I clench up on instinct but he is relentless, his tongue on my clit, pumping his fingers in both my holes. The first spasm makes me jerk up and then I almost fall off the counter when I come completely undone in a series of convulsions that leaves me gasping, screaming out my pleasure. My thighs shake and I can’t control my body, but Luciano grabs me and carries me to the couch. I wrap my legs around his waist and bite down on the bulging muscle where his neck meets his shoulder.
Dropping me on the couch, he tears open his pants, letting them fall to the floor along with his boxers. His eyes narrow as he looks me over with eyes so hungry, so dark that they make my heart flutter. He stands before me naked, his cock thick and hard for me, the muscles in his powerful thighs flexing, his large hands clenching and unclenching.
“You are going to regret that,” he says in a low voice, dangerously calm, controlled, tentatively touching the red mark on the side of his neck. His words set me on fire. His gaze, following my curves from my still trembling eyes, to my pussy, belly, breasts, neck and back up to meet my eyes, scorches me and makes every patch of skin ache for more of his touch.
My stomach clenches and my heart rate picks up. I’m crazy as a bat, but I say it before I regret it. “Maybe I need to be punished?”
I didn’t think his eyes could get darker, but danger just took on a whole new meaning. “Come here,” he says and takes a step back. “Bend over.” He points at the armrest and I shuffle off the couch, trembling, frightened, ablaze.
Standing before him, meeting his gaze, holding it a few seconds, I then turn and present my ass to him. He puts a hand between my shoulder blades and pushes me forward until I fall. I clasp my hands together as if in prayer, burying my face between my arms.
I jerk when I feel his hand on my ass, but he doesn’t slap it, instead he strokes it tenderly. “Did you kill a man yesterday?”
“Two,” I say with a shudder.
“You bad girl!” His hand bears down on my skin and the sharp sting makes me cry out.
“How did it make you feel?”
I hesitate. “Scared.”
He slaps me again. Harder. I groan, gritting my teeth against the burning sensation that replaces the sting.
“You should be scared, Chloe. You’re in my world now. It’s a scary place.”
“Mm-hmm!” I cry out when he slaps again, making me shoot forward.
Luciano grabs my hips and pulls me back, connecting his palm with my butt again and again. I twist and jerk and try to move away, but he’s got me pinned against the couch. “I did not ask you a question.”
“You’re just making excuses to spank me,” I gasp.
I twitch when he slides his fingers along my drenched pussy lips, rubbing up and down. “I don’t need excuses. I do as I fucking please.”
I groan, my legs shaking as I bury my face in the cushion. Suddenly, he thrusts his fingers inside me.
“Did it only make you scared?”
I mewl. I can’t speak! I scream when his hand bears down on me again.
“Tell me!”
“No!” I cry.
“Did it turn you on?”
“No!”
“Then why are you so fucking desperate for me to fuck you all of a sudden?”
Goosebumps race along my back, from where my skin burns on my ass all the way up to my scalp. “I’m not,” I pant.
He slaps me again. “Bullshit! You’re grinding against me like a bitch in heat. Did it turn you on to finally get the upper hand? To be the one who came out victorious? To not be the victim anymore? Did you think of me when you slaughtered those men? Did you wish that axe was planted in my back instead?” His hand connects with my ass again. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
“I—”
There’s nothing I want more in this moment. I want to feel that long, thick cock penetrating my pussy, spreading me wide. I want to feel the sting of his brutal intrusion. I want this man so fucking bad that I think I’ve lost my mind.
He slaps me again. “Tell me!”
“Fuck me, you monster!” I scream.
“You want my cock?”
“Yes!” I almost weep as I grind against his hand, his fingers still thrusting in me.
“Here?” He pushes so deep inside that I jerk forward.
“Mmm—yes!”
Luciano pulls out his hand and grabs my hips, putting the head of his cock against my entrance. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, Chloe Becker, that you won’t be able to stand for a fucking week.”
In one thrust he pushes all the way inside, filling me, stretching me wider than anything I’ve felt before. I lose my breath as my pussy clenches against the intrusion. “God!” I squeal.
His hold on my hips will bruise me, but I can’t tell pain from pleasure as he begins to pound into me without mercy. “Touch yourself,” he pants. “Put your hands between your legs. You’re going to come, or I’ll spank you again, and I won’t stop even if you beg me. I’ll stop when my arm gets tired. And I don’t tire easily.”
His threat makes my pussy clench. I can barely make my arm cooperate as I obey and put my fingers on my clit. I’m pushed and pulled, my skin rubbed raw against the rough fabric of the couch.
“Don’t take that hand away.” He pulls me up and lifts me, his cock buried deep inside me, spinning us around, pushing me against the wall. His hand comes up and grabs around my throat, pulling my head back against his chest. I swallow compulsively against the pressure. It’s uncomfortable, it’s frightening, and it’s pervertedly erotic. “I’ll never let you go.” He thrusts deeper, rougher, squeezing my body between his and the wall.
I’m getting nowhere. A rush of fear runs through me at the knowledge that I can’t stop this. I can’t say no. I gave in, and he will take me until he’s satisfied. The realization makes my pussy spasm and I arch in his hold, rocking against him, urging him to go faster, harder.
“I have killed, Chloe. These hands have murdered more people than I can count.” He squeezes tighter around my throat, making me squirm, renewed fear flaring up in my chest. “Does it turn you on?”
In some fucking way it does, but I shake my head. It’s too perverted.
His grip tightens and he thrusts so deep that I squeal. “Say it!”
“No!” I silently plead with him not to ask. I can’t say it. It’s sick. It would make me sick.
“You’re a fucking liar.” He pulls out and steps back. I fall to the floor, limbless, my hand still between my legs. Looking up, I take him in as he towers over me. “Do you know what I do to the liars in my ranks?”
I can barely breathe. Tears well up in my eyes as I shake my head. “Please,” I whisper.
“Get up.” He grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet, dragging me across the room. With one sweep of his hand, he clears the kitchen table, sending a pile of plates and a vase with flowers crashing to the floor. “Lie on your back.”
I’m so fucking afraid that I can’t move. My heart slams a staccato and my breaths come in short gasps.
“Lie on your fucking back.”
I twitch to life. I don’t dare to disobey. “Luci,” I whisper.
His eyes narrow as he looks me over.<
br />
“I—” I try to remember how to inhale. “I’m afraid.”
He puts an arm around my waist, pulling me to him, crashing his lips against mine. He holds my gaze with his as he claims my mouth, forcing his tongue deep. Before I know it, I clutch his cheeks and pull him closer, drowning in his scent, his touch. Then I push away, and he lets me. My hands still cup his cheeks.
“It scares me, it turns me on, and I’m not right in the head, because I want you so fucking bad right now.”
He strokes my cheek, down along my throat, past my collar bone, then he snakes his hands behind my back and unclasps my bra, pulling it off me. Lowering his head, he takes a nipple in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth, making me tear at his hair as I whimper. His hand finds my other nipple, rolling it, pinching it.
“You’re killing me,” I moan, arching, trying to pull away, but he’s not having it. He pushes me down on the table and climbs up to tower over me.
“I’m gonna take you. All of you. You’ll never deny me again.”
A surge of heat rushes through me at the possessiveness in his eyes, at the raw hunger. “Then do it.”
Chapter 30
Chloe
Luciano, or maybe he’s Salvatore tonight, bends my body to his will. With his hands, his tongue, and cock he makes me come over and over, but refuses to give himself his release until I plead with him to let me take him in my mouth. I can’t take any more. He’s ruthless. He’s not tender. I don’t think he knows the word. But he makes me soar. Over and over.
Finally we fall asleep in a sweaty heap of limbs. I’m sated, aching, and still needy in a confusing mess of feelings I can’t even begin to sort.
I don’t know how to meet his desperate needs. I don’t know how to find the man behind this raw facade. I know he’s in there. I see it fleetingly in his gaze. There is longing in him that makes my chest clench with a need to take him in my arms and hold him until he truly knows that it’s going to be all right.
But will it ever?
Can I sate his thirst?
Will he sate mine?
I wake from a featherlight touch on my cheek. When I open my eyes, I look right into his.
“How are you?” he asks.
I wish he hadn’t asked. I wish I hadn’t woken up. Everything aches. My arms and shoulders ache from swinging that axe. My pussy and my thighs ache from letting Salvatore have his way with me last night.
I groan and squeeze my eyes shut. He chuckles.
“I’m honestly pretty broken too. I couldn’t get enough of you.” His hand slides from my cheek, a finger tracing my jawline, pushing down the blanket in its path along my chest, to my breast. My nipple peaks as he circles it, flicks it. “I meant to ask how you’re coping, though. Killing people can be rough.”
My heart skips a beat and I try to feel. There’s no hesitation when I give him my answer. “I feel like I finally won. I feel strong. If it ever came to that, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
His face lights up. “You’re definitely not a good girl. Is that Chloe, or is it Christine talking?”
I purse my lips as I hold his gaze. “I don’t know anymore. Maybe neither of them ever was a good girl.” I throw my head back and moan when he pinches my nipple hard. “You know what I definitely am, though?”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
The air between us thickens and it gets harder to breathe. I put my hand on his chest and stroke along his belly, down to his cock that is already thick and hard.
“I’m really horny.”
I circle my fingers around the base and stroke him. Up and down. Then I sit up and straddle him, putting the head to my pussy, sliding it back and forth. I’m slick, swollen and achingly empty. I want to feel that delicious stretch again, I get goosebumps with the flashbacks from how he fucked me without remorse. He was like a machine, working me furiously until I cried with exhaustion. I got sore. I’m still sore. Still I want to feel him again.
I hold his gaze as I begin to sink down, letting him fill me. It aches. I almost can’t. When I hesitate he grabs my hips, his eyes never letting go of mine, then he slams me down on him and I cry out, the intrusion brutal, hurting, and still so fucking good.
Luciano doesn’t move, our bodies joined like one. With my heart beating like mad, I raise a little and sink down again, wincing.
“Hurting?”
I nod.
A wicked smile spreads on his lips. “Do you know where you’re not hurting?”
“I ache everywhere,” I whimper.
“Not everywhere,” he says. He lifts me off him with ease and drops me next to him on the mattress. “Don’t move.”
He stands and then disappears out of the room without another word, buck naked and with a raging hard-on. I pray Alessandra has had the sense to stay away. Luciano comes back with a bottle of olive oil. My mouth goes dry. I suddenly know where this is going.
“Oh, no no no.”
“I wasn’t asking,” he says. “Roll over.”
“I can’t,” I gasp.
He looks me over, and then that stomach-flipping smirk reappears. “All right.” He leaves the room again and I exhale with a shudder.
He’s gone a few good minutes and when he comes back with his arms full of rags I scramble out of the bed on the opposite side, widening my eyes “No, Luci!”
“Yes, Chloe,” he says. There’s no threat in his voice. He sounds calm, his tone soothing, friendly.
My heart slams against my ribcage and I look around me, desperate for an exit, but I’m trapped between the bed and the wall. I scream when he darts up on the bed, dropping the rags, and then down on my side, pushing me into the corner, his hand on my throat.
“You can fight me,” he breathes in my ear, “but you can’t win. Submit to me and save yourself the trouble.”
I squirm, push at his chest, only to get my wrists caught. He circles both in one of his hands, his grip unrelenting, then he reaches for the pile of fabric on the bed and pulls out a strip of torn sheet that he starts wrapping around my wrists.
“I’ll bundle you up like a Christmas gift, woman, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He wraps tight, but still not cruelly tight. I twist and wriggle, trying to throw myself to the side, but he wedges a thigh in between mine and keeps me firmly in place. When he’s done, my wrists are wrapped and he’s even finished with a neat bow.
“I hate you!” I spit.
“Yeah?” He slides a hand along my belly, in between my legs, thrusting his fingers inside my pussy. “Your slick cunt tells another story.”
“Fuck you!” I squirm and try to break free, gasping from the tingling heat.
“Oh, I’ll fuck you, all right. Get on the bed.” He spins me around and throws me on the mattress. I wriggle, trying to get off on the other side, but he straddles me and pulls out yet another strip, deftly wrapping it around a bedpost, then around my wrists.
“No! Stop it” I pull and try to get free, but I get no leeway.
Luciano snickers. “You’ll only hurt yourself.” He pushes me from my side and over on my belly, quickly switching position so that he straddles my thighs.
I kick and scream, but I have no chance against his strength and apparent experience as he proceeds to tie one ankle at the time to the bedposts by the foot of the bed. And to think I found that four-poster bed cute.
I’m naked, aching, lying on my belly, my legs spread obscenely wide, completely at his mercy. And I’m afraid again.
He stands and looks me over, his gaze gut-wrenchingly dark and hungry. “Do you want to keep fighting?”
I can barely breathe. He wants me to. He wants my fear, my fight. “It gets you off,” I say. My voice is faint, unsteady. It’s not a question. I know it does.
“I get off on pain, Chloe. On inflicting pain.”
“I know,” I whisper.
“Are you going to keep fighting? Or will you submit? Either way is fine with me.”
“I’ll fight,” I say
as a thrill runs through me. “I’ll always fight.”
“Good girl,” he says. “I’ll always punish you.”
And right then and there, I realize it’s a game of sorts, that he will hurt me, but he will also pull me along for the ride. It’s a game, cat and mouse, predator and prey, and I’ll play it.
“You’re a sadist,” I say.
He puts his hands on my hips, caresses along the sides of my ass, spreading my cheeks, thumbing my slit, parting my lips. “I don’t care for labels. It might be so. Submit to me and let me show you what I can give.”
My eyes almost roll back when he pushes fingers inside my pussy, another finding my clit. “You don’t give,” I gasp. “You take.”
He snickers. “So defiant. You realize how vulnerable you are right now? I can do anything and everything I want with you.”
His words shoot a bolt of heady, thick need straight between my legs as he keeps caressing. I bury my face in the pillow and grit my teeth against the onslaught of sensations. A cool liquid between my ass cheeks makes me flinch.
“You don’t want to fight this, though,” he says, his voice hoarse, a deep rumble that makes goosebumps race across my skin. “Trust me.”
I whimper and nod. I fully believe him, and a part of me, not even a small part, is morbidly curious about anal sex.
He pushes a finger against my tight hole, sliding in with frightening ease. Thrusting, he then adds another finger. He goes slow, but he doesn’t accept it when I clench up, instead his palm bears down on my ass, making me squeal. He pushes his cock inside my pussy and leans in, his body heavy on mine, his mouth by my ear.
“Your choice, Chloe. I am not going to damage you, but if you resist me it will hurt.”
“You’re a monster,” I whisper.
He laughs softly. “I’ve never claimed to be anything else. Do you want me to stop?”
He moves in me, his thrusts slow and deep. My body hums with pleasure, and he’s playing me like the master he is. He’s found my tune, and he knows it so fucking well.
“I can’t,” I moan.
“Can’t?”
“Stop. I can’t stop. Oh, God.” I arch up, meeting his caress, gasping with greedy need.
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