by Penelope Sky
She was perfect.
A real man knew how to appreciate a beautiful woman, and the longer I stared at her, the more I wanted to appreciate her. The idea of killing her still got me hard, but I’d much rather fuck her again.
And again.
I hooked her arm around my waist and then rolled her to her back.
She kept her eyes closed and stayed asleep, but she stirred slightly, feeling her body move but not caring what happened.
I was already hard for her, anxious to fill her with more come so it would drip onto my sheets. Maybe I didn’t kill this Barsetti but I just fucked her.
That was better in some ways.
I separated her thighs then slid inside her, the head of my cock pushing through her tight entrance.
When she felt the pressure between her legs, her eyes fluttered open. “Jesus, do you mind? I’m sleeping.”
I pushed farther inside her, sinking as my shaft stretched her apart. “Then keep sleeping.” I moved as far as I could go, feeling the same incredible pussy that I felt last night.
“You would fuck an unconscious woman?” she asked incredulously.
“If it was you, fuck yes.” Last night, I took it slow. But this time, I fucked her good and hard. I dug my hips deeply into her, pushing my entire length inside as my pulsing dick explored her just as intimately as last time. My headboard tapped against the wall, and I brought heat into the room with my movements.
Her body shuddered under my pressure, her tits shaking up and down. Her eyes were still lidded with sleep, but she didn’t make another protest. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and she buried her face into my shoulder, pulling her legs apart so I could have her.
So I could keep fucking her.
It was a lazy fuck, the perfect kind for first thing in the morning. I thrust and I fucked, driving my big dick inside this beautiful pussy. I didn’t care about getting her off, but I wanted to prove I could make her feel good even if she didn’t want to.
So I made her come—like a man.
I listened to her scream right against my ear, her nails clawing at my back so hard they almost drew blood.
Then I came inside her, adding more come to the pile I made last night. I dumped all my seed inside her, stuffing her full until it overflowed onto the sheets. I groaned as I finished, loving my conquest.
I caught my breath before I moved off and got out of bed.
She lay there, full of my warm come.
I pulled on jeans and a t-shirt then walked out.
Her voice stopped me at the door. “Where are you going?”
All I did was give her an angry look in response.
I sat in my office with the phone pressed to my ear. I listened to it ring a few times before Max answered.
“Haven’t heard from you in a while. Started to worry.”
“I thought you said you didn’t care whether I lived or died?”
“I don’t,” he said with a chuckle. “My concern is strictly for my self-interest.”
I grinned, knowing he was only being partially truthful.
“He’s dead?”
“He’s sitting at the bottom of Lake Garda.”
“Such a beautiful place. Too good for him, if you ask me.”
“Cold as fuck, though.”
“I’ll talk to my client and wire the funds.”
“Good.” I made my fortune as a hitman. I executed men for money. It was the simplest job in the world. I had one task and full autonomy to fulfill it however necessary. It paid my bills and gave me a life of luxury. It wasn’t close to the billions I should have inherited, but it was enough. “I had an issue.”
He turned serious. “What kind of issue?”
“Some woman walked by and witnessed my murder streak. I caught her and was about to slit her throat…but then I recognized her.”
“You recognized her?” he asked. “Who was she?”
I still couldn’t believe all the events happened coincidentally. The Barsettis were my mortal enemy, and to see the youngest one walk by at the perfect moment was unbelievable. I’d seen Conway Barsetti at the Underground one night when I was in disguise, but he didn’t possess the same allure as his younger sister. “Vanessa Barsetti.”
“Shit…what did you do?”
“I didn’t have any other choice. I took her.”
“You killed her, right?”
I never answered.
“Bones, you have to kill her. If she tells her family—”
“I’m aware of the situation.”
“And you want to kill her anyway…”
“I did.” I still do, a little. “But when it came down to it…it didn’t work out.”
“That’s not like you.”
“I know.” I was cold and brutal. I didn’t think twice before taking a life. Cruelty was in my blood. I lacked empathy and compassion. I was born of a different breed, so unattached to human emotion that I couldn’t understand it. “But I’ve made use of her…”
Max knew exactly what that meant and didn’t ask for clarification. “What happens when they know she’s missing?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet. I was thinking of letting her go…but keeping her under my thumb.”
“How would you enforce that?”
I had a few ideas. “I’m not sure yet.”
“Whatever you do, don’t underestimate her. She’s a Barsetti.”
The corner of my mouth rose in a smile, thinking of all the badass stunts Vanessa pulled while in my captivity. Against all odds, she still pushed on. When grown men wouldn’t get up again, she rose to her feet. She didn’t hesitate before she shot me. Her Barsetti blood made her absolutely fascinating. “I know.”
5
Vanessa
Bones fucked me then disappeared.
He was gone all day, so I showered and then put on a new pair of clothes that were set out on my bed. The clothes were a little baggy again, but I didn’t complain.
I wouldn’t be here much longer.
I hadn’t had time to think about what was going on between Bones and me. I bartered for my freedom by fucking him, and he vowed to make me come.
I did everything I could to prove him wrong. I didn’t want that man to be right. I didn’t want to be the victim of a kidnapping and then enjoy my tormentor. I didn’t think it was possible to get wet for a man who held a knife to my throat.
But I wasn’t wet—I was soaked.
It was humiliating.
It made me hate him more.
I despised his arrogance. I despised his power. He moved between my legs that morning and helped himself like I was a toy rather than a person. He got right to the point and fucked me harder than he did the night before.
And to make it worse, I came again.
Goddammit.
I tried to make myself feel better by convincing myself I was subjected to my anatomy. If you rubbed anything the right way, magic would happen. But there was no denying I’d never come that hard in my life. I’d never had a bigger man inside me, a man who could stretch me to maximum capacity. Not only did he have the right tools, but he knew how to use them. I’d dated nice guys, even hot guys. There was chemistry and excitement. There was good sex at my apartment.
But nothing compared to that.
Why did the best sex of my life have to happen with my mortal enemy?
With the man my family had a never-ending blood war with?
Why didn’t I just take a different route home?
I’d only been there for a few days, so I hadn’t explored the house. We were in a mansion on the hillside of a snowy mountain. All the windows showed the breathtaking view of the snow. I couldn’t see the lake from up here because we were too high up.
I didn’t see an escape route. Even if I could steal one of the cars from the garage, driving in the terrain would be tricky. I hardly drove in the snow, and since I had to drive slowly, I probably wouldn’t make it far before he caught up with me.
R
ichard appeared around the corner, a casual butler that was nothing like Lars, the man who had been serving my family since my father was young. Richard didn’t have the same curt mannerisms as Lars, and he was always in jeans. “Vanessa, Bones wants you to join him for dinner.”
“Address me as Ms. Barsetti.” I wasn’t getting any respect around here, and now I needed to demand it.
Richard’s expression didn’t change at my request. “Alright. Dinner is served. Will you be joining him?”
“Do I have a choice?”
He shrugged. “You could say no, and I’ll report that to him. And then he’ll tell me to come get you again. If you refuse then, he’ll get angry and come after you himself…so you have a choice. But no matter what your choice is, you’ll end up in the same place. But perhaps it’ll make you feel better because you’ll feel like you had a say in the matter…even though you never really did.”
The thought was depressing. As long as I was in this house, I was subjected to the desires of this psychopath. I didn’t have any rights, and my attitude seemed to turn him on even more.
Because he was a freak.
“So…” Richard brought his hands together at his waist. “How do you want to do this?”
I was hungry, so putting up a fight right now didn’t sound that appealing. “What’s for dinner?”
“Bones’s favorite. Steak, potatoes, and greens.”
Damn, that sounded pretty good. “Dessert?”
A small smile crept into his lips. “Blueberry pie and ice cream.”
I didn’t have to think it over long. “Alright. I’ll eat with him.” When I lived with my parents, I had the best chef in the world provide all my meals. I always ate like a queen, having culinary feasts I never really appreciated. Now that I lived alone, I ate a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and chips. I never learned to cook, and it seemed pointless when my skills would never compare to the culinary genius that Lars possessed. I would just hire a chef myself, but I was too broke for that.
I walked into the dining room where the grand table sat. A large window took up the entire wall, and it showed a view of the mountainside. Snow was falling, hitting the piles of fresh powder softly.
Bones sat there, a short glass of scotch in front of him. The bottle beside him was half empty, telling me he already had a few glasses before I arrived. His eyes shifted to me immediately, and he stared at me with the same intensity he always wore.
Like he might kill me.
I sat across from him.
“Wine?” Richard opened a bottle of red. On the label was a brand I recognized. Barsetti Vineyards.
“Thanks for trying to make me feel at home,” I said sarcastically. “And yes. I’ll take a full glass.”
Richard poured it before setting the bottle on the table. “I’ll grab the dishes.” He walked into the kitchen, leaving us alone together.
Whether Richard was there or not, Bones stared at me the exact same way. He stared like there was nothing he wanted more than to strangle me—and fuck me. His broad shoulder blocked the chair behind him completely, and his tattoos peeked from underneath his shirt to his neck. His fingers were wrapped around his glass, and he brought it to his mouth to take a drink.
I expected him to make a smartass comment or two, but it never happened. He continued to stare, like I was a TV screen or a piece of artwork that he could watch for hours. Direct eye contact didn’t make him the least bit uncomfortable.
It didn’t make me uncomfortable either. He failed to intimidate me, so I held his gaze and enjoyed my wine.
If you stripped away the crime and the blood war, he was so beautiful that he was hard to look at. He could walk into any bar and have the attention of every single woman in the room. Not only was he a powerhouse, but he had unbelievably handsome features. Those blue eyes were hard not to stare at.
It was a shame he chose this life. So much failed potential.
“What are you thinking?” He set his glass down, and his hand continued to rest on the hardwood table. His forearms were chiseled just like the rest of his body, the sections of muscle identified by grooves. His veins streaked across, bulging in comparison.
“What are you thinking?” I countered.
“You really want to know what goes on in this sick fucking mind?” The corner of his mouth rose in a smile, amused like always.
“I’ve already experienced the worst of it.”
He took another drink. “Or the best.”
I refused to react, keeping the same stoic features.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm. “I was thinking about how beautiful you look like that…with that jet-black hair and olive skin. You don’t have a drop of makeup on, but your features are still phenomenal. You’re stunning. So fucking stunning that I’m not sure if I can wait until after dinner to fuck you.” He finished the scotch in his glass then set it down with a loud thud. “What were you thinking, baby?”
“Stop calling me that.”
“I can call you whatever I want. Now answer the question.”
His answer wasn’t as sick as he forecasted, and I was annoyed with myself for actually appreciating his response. “I was thinking it’s a shame you’ve decided to live your life this way.”
“In what way?” he countered. “I live in a mansion—and I own several more of them. I have a butler. I’m rich. I have—”
“Wealth isn’t everything. It’ll never buy you happiness.” I lived a life of luxury, but when I reflected on the happiest moments of my life, they had nothing to do with money. They were times when I was surrounded by friends and family, enjoying the Tuscan sun with a bottle of wine and a good cheese.
He cocked his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t interrupt me again.”
I wanted to fire back with something rude, but my gut told me to listen to him.
“I’m not ashamed of what I do for a living. I didn’t have the resources you did. I didn’t go to a private school or have a father to pay for university. My mother was a whore to make sure I had food every night. Is it also a shame that she lived her life that way?”
“I never said that.”
“And now I’m asking.” Without raising his voice, he increased the tension in the room. He turned hostile without a single movement, becoming silently deadly. “Because I’m not ashamed of her. I’m not ashamed of what she did to provide for me. Like any other mother, she did whatever was necessary to make sure I had clothes, shoes, and supplies so the other kids wouldn’t make fun of me.” He leaned over the table, his elbows resting on the wood. “You think less of her?”
It didn’t matter how much he threatened me. I wouldn’t cave. So I answered honestly. “Never.”
His intense gaze remained, his blue eyes burning into mine.
“Never underestimate what a mother will do for her child…” My own mother never told me the horrible truth of her past. She did it to protect me, to make sure I wouldn’t have to carry the grief that now sat in the pit of my stomach. “But I judge you for killing people in alleyways and capturing a young woman for revenge. I judge you for demanding sex in exchange for my freedom.”
“Like you didn’t want to fuck me.”
My eyes narrowed. “No, I—”
“I made you come in less than two minutes. You enjoyed every fucking second of it. Let’s not rewrite history and paint you in a fictional light. I kissed you against my van, and you kissed me back. I kissed you on the floor just seconds after I held a knife to your throat. I fucked you in my bed and listened to you moan for me, felt your nails slice into my skin. I listened to your screams when my fat dick hit you in the right place. I may not be a good man, but you’ll always have my honesty. I deserve the same from you.”
It was the first time a man shut me up. He didn’t tell me to be quiet, but his argument left me speechless. There was no way I could contradict any of those things, not when we both witnessed them. “Whether I wanted to fuck you or not, I want my f
reedom.”
“Freedom is a privilege, not a right.”
“Not according to the law.”
“In the underworld, there is no law. There are only rules—my rules.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, my appetite suppressed now that this conversation took a deadly turn. I refused to give in to the fear, but I couldn’t deny how lethal this guy was. He didn’t kill me, but he was definitely temperamental. “When are you going to let me go?”
He grabbed the bottle and refilled his glass. “I’ll let you leave the house in a few days.” He worded it the same way as last time—and that was unsettling.
“My mother will call soon.”
“She hasn’t yet.”
“You’re keeping an eye on my phone?”
“Yes.”
“Can I have it back?”
He laughed into his glass before he took a drink.
Richard entered the dining room with our entrees. Two steaks with roasted potatoes and asparagus. He set the dishes in front of us, topped off my glass with wine, and then set a basket of bread on the table before he walked out.
Once the succulent food was placed in front of me, my appetite came back. I grabbed my fork and knife and dug in.
Bones watched me for a few seconds before he started eating.
“What am I supposed to do for the next few days?”
“Don’t be stupid.” He cut into his steak then placed a large piece of meat in his mouth. “I prefer it when you’re smart, even when you won’t shut your mouth. You know your only job is to lie in whatever position I ask while I fill you with my endless loads.” He cut into his steak again and took another bite, like this was an appropriate conversation to have over dinner.
A tiny chill ran down my spine, and that made me despise myself. “I was under the impression this was just a one-night thing.”