My Italian Beast (Part Two): Contemporary Billionaire Romance (Beasts in Bed Book 4)
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Their kiss didn’t break even as Marcus let Anneke slide back to her feet and both of them worked in undue haste to undress each other. He groaned when her fingers finally had his zipper down, and she moaned when she felt him push her bra down to bare her breasts to his sight.
Her fingers wrapped around his erection just as his mouth closed over one nipple.
Their bodies buckled against each other.
She began to stroke him, and he began to suck.
Soon, they were on the floor, Anneke lying over him, her fingers stroking him to an erection while he moved on to devour her other breast.
“Anneke.” He couldn’t help groaning her name out loud at the way she milked his cock so beautifully. “Dio.” And suddenly it wasn’t enough to simply drive her mad by worshipping her breasts. Releasing her nipple, he clasped her by the waist and, ignoring her protests, he flipped her position above her body.
In an instant, she found herself facing straight down at his cock while---
“Aaaaaah!”
Marcus had pushed her panties to the side and began eating her pussy without warning. She moaned and buckled, but he still didn’t let go, and so she frantically did the same, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his erection out.
His cock was already fully erect, and she stretched her mouth as wide open as possible before slowly swallowing its length, inch by inch.
His body jerked, and she sucked hard on the head of his cock.
Marcus let out a growl, and then his hips started jutting, and his cock began thrusting deeper into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat.
Oh God.
She loved every moment of it.
They pleasured each other mindlessly with his mouth on her pussy, his cock in her mouth, and it was so, so good tears started to sting her eyes.
Her fingers dug deep into the muscled cheeks of his ass as she felt her body begin to stir. She was close.
So, so close.
But she didn’t want to come alone and so she ran her tongue over the wet, sensitive slit on the head of his cock, over and over until she felt him arch under her while rasping her name out.
“Anneke.”
And he, too, seemed to want her to reach the point of no return as two fingers joined his mouth, all of it for the sole purpose of destroying her pussy with the most excruciating pleasure.
His tongue and fingers thrust alternately, giving her absolutely no time to breathe---
“M-Marcus!” She began to break, and she sucked harder and harder on his cock. “Marcus!”
And then both of them came apart.
As they dressed each other, the silence between them was comfortable but wary, if there ever was such a thing. From time to time, their glances would meet. Marcus smoothing her skirt down, Anneke zipping his pants up, Marcus buttoning her up, Anneke knotting his tie.
There were so many unspoken words between them, so many burning questions---
They had been like this for months now, always making out but never fucking. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy it, but – why did it have to end there?
Their eyes met once more. The tenderness in his dark gaze took her breath away, but it also made her heart ache harder.
His eyes – oh, his eyes were telling her so many things. Things she wanted to be true, things she was afraid to hope for, things she wished he would say out loud.
But he never did.
Marcus saw Anneke gnaw on her lip. “What is it?”
She shook her head, still unable to find the courage to open Pandora’s box – even though she knew she had to. “It’s nothing,” she said finally.
He wanted to believe her. Dio, if only he could believe her. But because he loved her so damn much, he also saw past the flimsy lie and he knew.
If they kept this up, he would end up hurting her again – and he would rather kill himself before letting that happen.
Anneke blinked in bemusement when Marcus’ face suddenly whitened. “Marcus?”
“We should talk.” When she stiffened, he realized she had somehow misinterpreted his words as something ominous, and he shook his head right away. “There is no need to worry, bambina.” He cupped her face. “I promised it will be different this time, remember?”
She gave him a small, hesitant nod.
“And it will be.” His tone was fierce. “The last thing I’d ever want is to hurt you.” He inhaled deeply. “But I also know that’s what I’ll end up doing if we let things go on as they are---”
Fear flickered in her blue eyes. “Are you,” she whispered shakily, “breaking up with me again?”
A hoarse laugh escaped him. “You must be crazy. Don’t you know by now that it would be far easier to cut off my arm than ask to be away from you?”
“T-then…what?”
“Just know that it isn’t that – isn’t anything like that, will never have anything to do with either of us leaving. Capisci?”
Another nod.
“We’ll need time alone when we talk, somewhere we won’t be interrupted.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she asked, “What about Bruin Hemel?”
Ah.
“Where it all started,” he said roughly.
“Y-yes.” And her heart squeezed hard. A part of her hadn’t even dared to hope he’d realize the significance.
“Tomorrow, I’ll pick you up at eight?” When all she did was nod again, as if she didn’t trust herself to speak, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Everything will be alright, bambina. Believe me.”
She did.
But it turned out to be a lie.
The next day, an article was published, and its contents rocked the world. Six Degrees of Beasts, it said. The piece was written tongue-in-cheek, with all the women interviewed going into graphic detail to attest to how their former billionaire lovers were beasts in bed.
There was Sergei Grachyov, the young Russian billionaire who had gotten Fredericka pregnant. There was Nathan, the Greek ex-model now going out with Alyx. There was a French one, an American one, an Arabian one, but what caught her eye was the interview about The Italian Beast, which of course was none other than Marcus Ravelli.
A name and photo came with the interview. The former didn’t mean anything at all, but oh, the woman’s face on the photo – oh, she knew that face. No one could ever forget the face of one’s killer.
And this woman had killed her, the moment she fucked Anneke’s husband on their wedding night.
Chapter Seven
“I strongly discourage you from doing anything without legal counsel.” These were the first words out of Fredericka’s mouth the moment Anneke answered her call.
“Noted. That said, please don’t let this issue bother you at all.” Anneke deliberately kept her tone breezy. “The woman is Marcus’ ex-lover, ‘ex’ being the operative. It would be childish of me to react to this article considering she’s already a thing of the past.”
“I couldn’t have said it better,” Fredericka agreed, “which is why I’d like you to promise me now that you will not make any move without consulting---”
“Freddie.” Anneke’s tone was exasperated. “Didn’t I just say not to let this bother you?”
“I’m your lawyer---”
“And I’m your friend,” she shot back, “so can you please forget about the whole thing? You have a delicate pregnancy---”
“I can handle this---”
Realizing how pointless it was to argue with a hotshot attorney, she asked instead, “Could you put me on speakerphone, please?”
“Why?” Fredericka was suspicious.
“Please.”
“Oh, fine.” After a moment, Fredericka grumbled, “It’s done.”
“Great. Sergei?”
“Hello, Anneke,” the Russian billionaire responded pleasantly.
“First of all, I’m terribly sorry about this. I should never have answered her call.”
There was some squawking noise, but both Anneke and Se
rgei ignored this.
“You do not owe me any apology, Anneke. I know my woman well, and I’m certain she would’ve found a way to contact you regardless.”
Anneke grimaced. “That’s true.”
“I’m still here, you guys.” Fredericka was back to grumbling.
“She’s rather bullish in her efficiency as a lawyer,” Sergei commented.
“I totally agree.”
“And again,” Freddie grumbled, “I’m still here.”
“Anyway, I just thought you should know that I won’t be needing Fredericka’s services in the meantime so if she ever uses my name as an excuse for work---” Anneke heard a clicking sound. “Hello?” Nothing.
Her lips twitched at the realization that Fredericka had hung up on her, but the smile faded from her face when her phone started ringing again.
And of course, it was Marcus.
He had been calling her nonstop since this morning, and she had been dropping every one of his calls also since this morning.
There was nothing he could say. Nothing. She was done being an idiot over him.
“You’re absolutely certain it’s my mother?” Marcus’ voice was terse.
“Si, signor. I have just come back from the hospital – I went there to confirm the patient’s identity myself.” Alberto paused unhappily. “And it is your mother, I’m afraid. Although the doctor still needs to receive several test results before making an official diagnosis, he strongly believes she has---” The younger man paused again, this time unable to find a better term for what he had to say.
“It’s alright, Alberto.” Marcus’ hands tightened around the steering wheel. “She’s overdosed, hasn’t she?” It was his best guess, simply because it wouldn’t be the first time Raquel Ravelli would have tried to kill herself by OD.
“Si, signor,” Alberto confirmed reluctantly.
“Thank you for informing me about this. I’ll take over from here.” After ending the call, Marcus remained unmoving in the driver’s seat. A part of him wanted to ignore what he had just learned, but the better, smarter part of him knew if he did that – it wouldn’t be out of anger. It would be because after all these years, he still wanted his mother’s love – and he was terrified that she would only push him away if he tried to ask for it.
Closing his eyes, he thought of Anneke, who was as fearless and as selfless as he could never be. What would she have done in his position?
And as soon as he thought that, he had his answer.
It was an hour’s drive to the hospital, but by the time he arrived Raquel was still unconscious. Taking a seat by her bedside, he tried calling Anneke again but his call wasn’t even redirected to her voicemail. This time, his call wouldn’t connect at all, and Marcus realized grimly that Anneke had blocked his number.
It was almost dawn by the time Raquel started to stir, and Marcus woke up immediately. His mother suddenly started moaning and thrashing, and he summoned a nurse into the room.
“Is something wrong?” he demanded.
Instead of answering, the nurse slammed her hand on the emergency button, and soon more nurses came rushing in, and Marcus turned white when they told him Raquel had to be wheeled into the operating room.
“Overdosing can sometimes lead to various complications,” the doctor explained quietly, “and this may appear true in your mother’s case. I will need your permission to perform an operation---”
“You have it.”
“The operation is risky,” the doctor warned.
“She’d have wanted to take it.” Because once upon a time, he remembered his mother as someone who was vibrantly beautiful, someone who loved life so much watching her could easily take one’s breath away.
“It will be costly, too.”
“I’m a billionaire, Doctor.” But Marcus’ tone was heavy, the admission giving him no pleasure.
The operation began soon enough, with a nurse informing him that it could anywhere between ten hours to an entire day. He tried contacting Anneke again, this time leaving a voice mail via direct message on all her social media accounts.
Ciao, bambina. I wish you would talk to me, if only to let me explain. And I wish I could be by your side right now, but I’m afraid it will be some time before I can go to you and beg for your understanding and forgiveness in person.
My mother is currently undergoing operation, a consequence on her overdosing on prescription pills. It is the fifth incident of the same nature in her life – it’s her favorite escape every time her marriage fails.
There is no lost love between my mother and me, but I cannot abandon her all the same. I hope – no, I know you will understand because you, more than other people, have the kindest heart that I know of. You gave me a chance when you didn’t have to, and remembering what you did for me has helped open my eyes about my own mother.
Marcus ended the message before he could say too much. It wasn’t that he meant to hide more things from Anneke – that was no longer in the cards – but if he were to speak the unvarnished truth about his life, he preferred to do it in person.
Following a restless night in the waiting room, a nurse soon came to wake Marcus to let him know that his mother’s operation was successful. He went immediately to Raquel’s room, and his mother’s gaze swung towards him the moment he entered.
Her eyes were filled with antagonism as she watched him, but he was no longer fooled by it. Loving Anneke had changed him, had opened his eyes to the truth that for so long he hadn’t allowed himself to see.
And that was that for better or for worse, Raquel was just as lost as he once had been.
Taking a deep breath, he asked, “How are you feeling?”
The older woman’s lip curled. “If you’re waiting for me to thank you for saving my life,” she sneered, “don’t hold your breath.”
“I’ll take that as affirmation that you’re feeling better,” Marcus answered evenly.
Raquel scowled. Something was…different about him. She could feel it, could almost describe it, but the words refused to reveal themselves completely to her. She watched him take the seat next to her bed, and an unexpected jolt of terror struck her. Why hadn’t he left yet? Why couldn’t he take a goddamn hint like he so easily did before?
“I wanted to tell you something---”
Raquel cut him off with a jeering laugh. “Darling. What makes you think I’m interested in anything you have to say?”
Marcus’ jaw clenched at her words, but instead of leaving, he remained on his seat, his gaze still on hers.
Shit. How could she make him understand she despised the very sight of him? “This is getting a little too tedious. So if you don’t mind, can you please fucking leave?”
“I will, as soon as I---”
“Didn’t you hear me,” she hissed. “When I say I don’t give a damn, I mean it. I don’t fucking care---”
Marcus interrupted her, saying calmly, “I’m going to tell my wife the truth about us.”
Raquel whitened, the rest of her words dying in her throat. “You’re a fool,” she spat shakily. “You’re a goddamn fool---”
“That’s all I came here to say.” Marcus’ tone was tight. He didn’t know what he had expected. Or perhaps he did. Perhaps there was always one thing he had foolishly hoped to receive from this woman, and no matter how cruel she was, no matter how many times she ended up failing him – maybe it was time to accept that he would always want it.
And that was love – because she was and would always be his mother.
Raquel began to shake uncontrollably when it became clear to her that Marcus had indeed made up his mind, and her skin crawled at the knowledge that another person would learn about her despicable past.
Her gaze flew to her son as he turned away to leave.
And it was his entire fault!
“Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut?” she demanded shrilly.
Marcus stilled.
“Why did you have to tell someone
else about the past? Why?”
Turning back slowly to face her, he said flatly, “Because Anneke needs to know the kind of man she’s married to---” Raquel’s wild laugh cut him off.
“Then you’re even a greater fool than I thought you were,” his mother snapped. “Anneke de Konigh would never want a man like you if she knew the truth. You---”
“Are nothing like my father,” Marcus said sharply.
“Oh, Marcus.” Raquel’s tone was filled with pity. “Why do you still insist on lying to yourself? I was there, too. I know the truth. To be perfectly crude, I’ve seen all thirteen goddamn inches of truth---”
Marcus flinched.
“So believe me, darling. You are your father’s son---”
“That’s what he wanted me to think,” he bit out stoically, “but no more. I will no longer let that man continue controlling me to from the grave.”
“Bullshit. You are your father’s son, Marcus! YOU ARE! How can you not be, when you had your own dick out and you were coming at seeing me being fucked?”
But Marcus didn’t even seem to have heard her at all. “He wanted me to be like him, but I’m not and I’m doing this to prove it to him – to myself---”
Raquel began to laugh crazily. “You’re insane.”
“I’m also doing this,” Marcus said tautly, “to prove him wrong about you.”
Silence.
Marcus’ fists clenched against his sides. “Because he was wrong about you, too.”
“Spare me the bullshit.”
But he ignored this, saying tautly, “He tried to destroy you the way he tried to destroy me. That’s why---” He inhaled sharply. “I want you to know I’m not blaming you for anything that happened. None of it was your fault.”
But his mother remained unspeaking, her gaze cold and unyielding.
Even knowing he was risking rejection – and it was likely, for there was never a time she had accepted him – he found himself moving towards her, wanting to be closer, unable to keep himself from hoping.
Just one small sign.
One goddamn sign.
Any sign would do.
He just wanted to see in her eyes the mother she once was to him.