“Fucking pathetic excuse for a human being.” He wasn’t sure if he was cursing Peretti or Kasilli. Which of them was more evil? The predator that preyed on a young girl, or the father who turned a blind eye? If either of them were in front of him, he wouldn’t hesitate to rip them apart with his bare hands. Knowing Peretti had been in his grasp less than an hour before filled him with renewed rage and the thirst for justice.
As he punched, his anger drained slightly, but another emotion rose. At first, he couldn’t identify it. Possessiveness was in the mix, and the thought of anyone else’s hands on Mia drove him to increase the intensity of his punches. Still, the unnamed emotion teased at the back of his mind, swelling as the rage lessened minutely.
It wasn’t until he missed the bag and slammed his hand into the wooden platform holding the chains suspending the bag that he acknowledged what he was feeling.
Guilt.
A fucking huge load of guilt, which was an emotion he hadn’t experienced in such a long time he’d forgotten how it felt. The image of holding Mia underneath him as he took her in the shower that first night flashed behind his eyes, and he cursed. With a vicious thrust, Shane slammed his other fist into the wood, grunting at the mental relief the physical pain provided.
He had taken her without regard to her feelings on the matter. Blood spattered from a shredded knuckle when he hit the wood again. Shane had held her down, stroked her to make her wet, and forced her to accept him. Her body had been ready, but clearly she hadn’t. More blood and another squishy thud of flesh against a solid object.
He wanted her, needed her, and ached for her. Shane had been obsessed with her for months, but he hadn’t wanted to hurt her. He hadn’t even given it much thought either way. In his arrogance, he had never considered that she wouldn’t want to be taken as his property.
Had he imagined she would be flattered by his attentions once she got past the mafia thing? If he’d given it any thought—and he had to admit he hadn’t considered it at all from her perspective—he would have assumed a few nights in his bed would alleviate any of her concerns over his criminal ties.
He jammed his fists against the support frame in concert, crying out as agony shot through his hands. Still, he did it again and again, seeing it as penance for what he had done.
One of his knuckles flared with pain beyond the others with his final hit to the wood, and Shane dropped to his knees on the mat. His harsh breath exploded from him in short gasps. Hanging his head, he clenched his hands into fists. Blood and torn skin provided gruesome proof of his self-mutilation, but it didn’t seem like enough.
He knew why, of course. Shane had accepted he had wronged Mia. He had hurt her in a way that would have been horrible for any woman, but especially traumatic after years of sexual abuse by someone she should have been able to trust. He was a disgusting animal for taking her.
The right thing would be to help her go somewhere safe, out of Peretti’s reach, and let her start over. She could find some average joe and settle down into a mundane life of suburban bliss. Pop out a couple of kids, focus on her schmuck of a husband, and live the average fairytale. That would probably make her happy and keep her protected from Peretti.
Knowing all that, he was still keeping her.
Fuck if he could stand the idea of letting her go. Even now, he was a selfish prick and completely obsessed with her. Shane had never been one for picking the right course, and he’d never been overly concerned if he was following the accepted social mores in his daily life.
Keeping her was perhaps the biggest crime he’d ever committed. His conscience pricked at the idea of causing her further pain, but he literally couldn’t envision letting her walk away. She had to be his.
He couldn’t give her freedom, and he wasn’t truly compelled to even try. All Shane could do was ensure he didn’t crush her in his tyrannical fist. He’d have to keep his iron grasp encased in velvet. If he could make her happy to be with him, it would be the best way to proceed.
Finally, he got to his feet, feeling a bit better after having decided on a course of action. If he couldn’t let her go, he’d just have to make sure she wanted to stay.
A few minutes later, as he stepped into the sting of a hot shower and winced at the water running over his knuckles, Shane embraced an uncomfortable truth. It was wrong and completely ruthless of him, but he was keeping her under any circumstances. His resolve about that hadn’t wavered. He would treat her more gently, and less like the lord of the manor entitled to all the maidens in his kingdom, but he would never let her go.
* * *
Mia waited for Shane to come to her as she tried to remain calm and accept she would have to stop fighting. It had been second nature to resist Aldo, and she had never given in to him. Night after night, she had tried to fight him no matter the pain it caused. Giving in had been unthinkable.
Drawing up her legs, she laid her head on her thighs and struggled not to cry. The bitter truth lodged inside her chest like a lead weight. She didn’t exactly want to keep fighting Shane. Their encounters were completely fucked up, with more violence and animal aggression than tenderness or sharing, but when they came together, it was amazing.
Fighting him was a turn-on. Humiliating to admit, but she wasn’t going to shy away from the truth. Part of her liked having him overpower her and force her to take pleasure from their coupling. Most of her resistance came from anger and outrage that he would just kidnap her and keep her like an object, but the tiniest part of it was…
“Foreplay,” she whispered aloud. Mia shook her head, not understanding how she could react so differently, with such complicated emotions, to Shane. He was essentially the same as Aldo. Both criminals, both obsessed with the need to control her, both ruthless and willing to do whatever it took to have her—they shared so many commonalities.
Mia rocked slightly as she remembered the ways Shane had forced her to orgasm. He’d touched and licked her until she was screaming with need and contracting around his cock or gushing into his mouth. He wanted her at any cost, but he wasn’t the completely selfish asshole her stepbrother was. Aldo had never tried to give her pleasure, though she was relieved rather than annoyed.
Shane wanted her participation. She didn’t allow the illusion that he would accept her refusal or let her push him away even with his new information about her past, but she knew the key difference between the crazy fuckers in her life was Shane wanted her to enjoy their fucking too. Aldo didn’t care at all if she got any gratification from anything.
Not that she thought she could have, even if Aldo had gone down on her for hours. The thought made her physically ill and highlighted another key difference between the men. She wanted Shane on a fundamentally physical level, whereas Aldo repulsed and terrified her.
Where did that leave her? Mia had agreed to stop fighting in exchange for Shane’s protection. If she kept up the hostilities, he would either overpower her every time until she was panting for him, or he would grow tired of her being too bothersome and send her packing. He might even send her gift-wrapped to Aldo if she pissed him off enough.
That idea made her lurch to her feet and head straight for the toilet. Mia vomited the contents of her stomach as her mind insisted on providing horrifying images of the things Aldo could do to her—had already done to her during the four years she had been under his dominion.
A brutal, detailed comparison of the acts she had endured under Aldo and Shane left her with a clear determination. Shane had and could hurt her, but he could also satisfy her on a level she had never known. Aldo would only hurt and control her. Nothing had changed there, except he seemed to have grown hungrier for her.
That left her with the option of trying to please Shane. Mia stripped out of her clothes and slipped on one of the slinky nightgowns from the dresser of skimpiness. As the evening progressed, she settled on the bed and tried to prepare herself not to fight him. No matter what he did to her, she had to remain passive and accept his to
uch.
Still feeling woefully unprepared for the challenge ahead, Mia’s heart gave a little lurch when her door opened a little after nine p.m. Her stomach rumbled when she saw Shane held a tray, reminding her she had fretted her way through dinnertime, and no one had sent food. Not that she expected them to, since her status was questionable. Was she a guest or a prisoner? Mia didn’t want to press Shane’s limits to determine that answer.
It was a struggle not to hide herself under the blanket when he sat beside her on the bed. Instead, she tried to pretend that her breasts weren’t pressing out the top of the plunging neckline, and that the lace covering her nipples was actually hiding something. With determination, she focused on the food as he sat the tray between them.
“Mmm, delicious.” She managed speech a few bites into her smoked salmon sandwich.
Shane nodded. As he moved his hand, she noticed the bandages across his knuckles. Without thought, Mia reached out to touch his nearest hand. “What happened?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Nothing.” His closed expression didn’t encourage her to probe.
Ignoring his subtle warning, she persisted. “Nothing doesn’t make you bleed.” Patches of red had soaked through the white bandages.
“It was an intense workout.”
She frowned. “You look like you beat yourself bloody.”
His eyes seemed cold when he regarded her without replying as he finished his sandwich. Watching him chew and swallow was having a surprisingly stimulating effect on her senses, as she imagined that mouth moving over her.
The bite she’d just taken seemed to lodge in her throat, but she forced it down before setting the remains of her sandwich on the plate. “I’m full.”
He moved the tray without speaking. Even as he put his hand on her arm to draw her closer, he didn’t break the silence. It was unnerving, but oddly arousing.
Mia didn’t say anything either, as he smoothed her hair off her shoulder and kissed her there. Her stomach quivered at the tender motion, even as her instincts kicked in. She wanted to struggle against his hold, hating the sense of confinement even as she longed for him to crush her against him.
God, she was fucked up. Deciding the safest course was to remain passive, she forced herself not to move away and not react as his lips traveled up the column of her throat. His teasing nibble on her lobe tested her resolve, but she kept herself still.
Mia had to bite her lip forcefully to hold in a cry of pleasure when Shane cupped her breast in his hand, tugging gently on her hardening nipple with his thumb and forefinger. It was harder than hell not to react to his coaxing touches.
She didn’t resist when he turned her head to kiss her. Somehow, Mia kept her reaction minimal, only softening against him and opening her mouth when his tongue pressed against the seam of her closed lips. He probed the depths, but she remained passive. Inside, she was a writhing mass of need, and her panties would be sodden if she had bothered to wear any.
He broke away, his hand holding the back of her head in a grip that was a bit tighter than necessary. His dark expression revealed his annoyance. “We had an agreement, Mia.” Shane’s voice was hard, and his eyes dared her to renege.
She swallowed the thick lump in her throat. “I know, and I’m trying. I’m not pushing you away.”
He scowled. “You aren’t engaging either. I’d rather have the wildcat who fights my every touch than the piece of driftwood you’ve become.”
“I don’t know what you want from me, Shane.”
He cupped her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I want you to let go and get swept away. I want you to be open and uninhibited, to enjoy fucking me without the self-loathing afterward.” The tenderness faded slightly from his voice. “I damned well want to make sure you’re worth going to war with the Peretti family and risking the wrath of my own boss, because that is the cost of keeping you—and I’m still determined to get full value.”
She took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to stop fighting.”
“Not responding at all isn’t the way to do it.” His hand moved, and he cupped her face between both of his palms. “What is your body telling you to do?”
Mia sucked in a breath as the scorch of embarrassment heated her cheeks. “I want you to overpower me.” She looked away from him. “It’s sick.”
He applied enough pressure that his thumbs bit into her skin when he forced her to look at him. “It isn’t sick. It’s thrilling and hot as fuck. I like conquering you as much as you like losing.” The next kiss he gave her was a little less gentle, but ended quickly. “We’ll play that way again soon, but tonight, I want it to be tender and sweet. I want you to have the experience you should have had for your first time.”
She frowned. “But why?”
He ignored that question. “This is a different kind of submission for you, Mia. I want you to fight your own urge to resist. Accept some gentleness.” His lips were lighter than a butterfly’s wings as he brushed a kiss against her nose. “Realize you deserve it, that you have a right to be pampered and pleasured by your partner.”
Her eyes widened. Was his amateur psychoanalysis somewhat on-target? Did she fight because that was all she had ever known, or did she subconsciously feel like sex had to be a battleground, and that she deserved nothing more?
Intellectually, Mia knew Aldo had used her in sordid ways that she’d had no control over, and she was a victim. Sometimes, on a visceral level, she still couldn’t help feeling like a dirty slut for letting him, even though she had fought.
If she fought Shane, she would get what she wanted without having to accept any responsibility for the decision. Giving in to his request not to fight was so much harder, because it was making a conscious decision to have sex with him and enjoy it, regardless of how fucked up things were between them.
He pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. “Can you do that, Mia?”
She trembled as he slipped a strap down her shoulder, his mouth moving to the curve of her shoulder to follow its path down her arm. He repeated the motion with the other side, increasing her trembling. “I don’t know.”
“Let’s find out.” The gown pooled to her waist, and Shane pushed her back against the pillows so he could straddle her.
Mia closed her eyes when he took one nipple into his mouth with deliberate care. His gentle sucking sent bolts of pleasure throughout her body, centering on her core. She was so wet between her legs that she would have been embarrassed if she hadn’t been so focused on his mouth and hands.
Those hands were stroking her skin carefully, as though determined to seek out and learn all her secrets. The satin and lace confection she’d worn slid down her body with minimal assistance from her, and she couldn’t help a small smile at his appreciative hum when he discovered she wore no panties.
Shane parted her thighs, but didn’t touch her pussy. She arched her hips in invitation before muttering a small grunt as he got to his feet instead. Mia watched as Shane slipped off the robe. She had seen him naked before, but had always been so preoccupied with resisting that she hadn’t taken time to really study his body.
A few scattered tattoos adorned skin stretched taut over muscles she had felt firsthand. Muscles she had strained against before being forced to submit. That thought made her clench her thighs.
He shook his head. “Open your legs, honey. Let me see that pretty pussy.”
Inexplicably shy, considering the things she had done with him, Mia slowly let her legs fall open again. As he turned to put the robe on a chair, his back diverted her attention. She gasped at the sight of the jagged scar running parallel to his spine. Other marks marred his flesh, but that was the most prominent. It hovered on her tongue to ask him about it, but she called back the impulse when he turned to look at her, his expression making it clear the subject was out-of-bounds.
“Come here.” He crooked his finger.
It wasn’t as difficult to obey him as she’d expected. Mia got off the bed and walked t
o him, insanely aware of their nakedness. Part of her wanted to draw out this intense seduction, while another part of her wanted to beg him to fuck her right then. She knew her body would offer no resistance to his possession, and her mind was falling in line with that idea.
To her surprise, Shane put his arm around her waist and led her to the bathroom. As they got closer to the shower, she tensed up, remembering their first time. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you a better memory.” He paused to turn on the water, fiddling with the panel of buttons until the light was a dim pink, and the steamy haze smelled of vanilla.
“That’s an impressive shower control system.” Her stomach clenched with nerves as she hovered at the entrance. Shane stepped into the marble stall, holding out his hand. She didn’t know if he would accept her refusal if she turned away, but she enjoyed having the illusion of choice.
Hesitantly, she took his hand and allowed him to take her into the space that had been the scene of their first violent encounter. Mia shivered despite the warm water cascading down on them with the intensity of a gentle rain instead of deluge like last time.
“I forgot something.” Shane paused in the process of closing the glass door. “Will you wait here for a moment?”
Feeling lost, both by his gentle manner and the turn of events, she nodded. Hugging her arms around herself, she drifted to the built-in bench as she waited for Shane to return. Whatever he’d gone to fetch must have been in the other room, because he was back quickly.
Her eyes widened when he sat on the floor between her legs. The silver gleam of a razor clued her in to what he’d gone to get, and while she didn’t really think he would cut her, she couldn’t stop herself from tensing as he lifted one of her legs to put on his thigh.
She couldn’t speak as he reached for a can of shave gel and applied a generous coating to the leg on his lap. It was unnerving and sensual to have him shave first one leg, and then the other. He moved with confident strokes, and she found herself asking a question she hadn’t intended to utter. “You’re good at this. Do you shave women often?”
MAFIA: Dark Romance Collection Page 9