by Bella J.
“Jesus, Daniela,” he whispered and reached down, hooking an arm underneath my leg, and forced me to wrap it around his waist, leaving me no choice but to take him deeper. “You okay?” His breathless rasps caressed my cheek, and he rocked on top of me, every thrust slipping in more comfortably, growing sweeter.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m okay.”
“I can’t—”
I looked up at him, his expression pained and brutal, beads of sweat on his forehead, as if there was a war taking place within him.
“Jesus. I can’t slow down.”
Tears pricked my eyes. Why was he fighting so hard to be gentle? Why, after everything, did he care so much about my pain? He would suffer only to spare me, let me tear through his flesh if it meant it would be easier for me.
“Gian,” I brought my palm to his cheek, “let go.”
“I’ll hurt you.”
I pressed my thumb under his chin so he would look at me, our gazes fused in a moment where we were the only two people who existed. “Let. Go.”
His nostrils flared, and he bit his bottom lip, eyes dark and hooded. “Fuck!” he roared and pushed deep and hard into me as he wrapped his hand around my throat, his thumb pressing into my jaw. Warm, heady breaths coated my skin as he buried his face into my neck, his back flexing and arching with every thrust.
The pressure between my legs was intense as his girth stretched me, my inner walls struggling to adjust to him. Tears pooled at the back of my eyes, but even with the fire and flames that burned inside me, I felt something else. A force that kept building, rising, as my whole body became primed to burst. It was something I couldn’t control, and my hips moved of their own accord, matching his thrusts. A different kind of ache started at the back of my neck, slithering down my spine until it finally collided between my legs.
“Oh, God,” I cried, trembling and shuddering as my muscles coiled tight. The euphoria crashed against every bone, my orgasm ripping through me.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Gian groaned and flexed, and his entire body went rigid on top of mine, ecstasy covering every line on his face. I felt the pulse of his cock as he came inside me, pouring his pleasure into me.
His body went lax, and mine was utterly spent as our sweat blended between us.
He pulled out, and I winced. The pleasure subsided, and now I could feel the intensity of the onslaught my body had just endured.
“Stay still,” he ordered, and the mattress dipped. I was too exhausted to lift my head when I heard the water running. Whatever just happened wasn’t anything like I imagined. Gian was kind, tender, gentle—not anything like the man who had me tied to his bed a few nights ago.
“Open your legs.”
I looked at him as he sat down beside me, the stern look in his eyes leaving me no choice but to obey.
The second he placed the warm, wet towel between my legs, I gasped from the sting. My legs shivered as Gian cleaned me. Why was he taking care of me?
I just lay there staring at him as he tended to me in the most delicate, caring way.
“Who are you?” I whispered.
“I’m the devil, remember?”
I shook my head as he removed the towel and eased my legs together. “No, you’re not.”
He leaned down and brushed the back of his hand down my cheek. “I am. And you, sweet angel, are shackled to me…forever.”
I had no intention of making it easier for her, to make it hurt any less while I claimed her virgin cunt. But somewhere between eating her pussy and watching her come, feeling her legs move and body writhe, there was this fucking short-circuit in my brain. My animalistic urge to dominate and fuck morphed into a desire to caress and to savor. Not once did it cross my mind that it would mean anything to be the man who claimed Daniela for the first time.
Virgin, or no virgin. Pussy was pussy.
But with her, it was different.
The feel of her slick heat against my bare cock, how powerful shockwaves of pleasure zapped through my system, it drove me fucking insane. Just placing the very tip of myself against her entrance already had my balls tightened with a climax that would have made me blow my load against her creases.
Sucking her tits, rolling her nipple in my palm as I felt her body tremble beneath mine—it was nothing like I ever experienced before. I had never been so in tune with a woman’s body as with hers. It wasn’t just about my own rush toward a release. It was about hers, too. In fact, hers mattered more.
Daniela opened the bathroom door, steam drifting into the bedroom as she walked out with a towel wrapped around her. Her hair was an even darker red, an intense shade of scarlet as water dripped off the ends.
“You okay?”
She nodded, sucking on her bottom lip, her cheeks the color of cherry blossoms as her gaze raked down my naked body.
I smirked and crossed my arms, not giving a fuck that my cock was starting to grow hard again. “You’re going to have to get used it. Now that I’ve had you, I’m only going to want to fuck you more.”
“Jesus, Gian.” She blushed, a deep red starting at the base of her neck and spreading upward.
I shrugged. “Just saying it the way it is.”
“I’m just…” She pulled her hand through her wet hair. “I’m just going to pull on some PJs and get some rest.”
“Hold up.” I reached for the piece I had chosen for her and held it out. “Wear this.”
Her eyes narrowed as she took the emerald-green nightgown from me. “This isn’t even enough fabric to cover everything.”
“Exactly.” I lifted my brows suggestively. “If you’re going to share my bed with me, you’ll wear what I want you to wear.”
Her lips pulled into a thin line, and she tossed the nightgown on the bed before walking across the room to my chest of drawers. She reached for a white tee and pulled it over her head, her tiny frame drowning in it. She held her arms out wide. “I’ll be wearing this. You’re more than welcome to take the couch if you’re not happy with my choice of sleepwear.”
The challenge beamed from her eyes, and I licked my lips, the ends of her wet hair causing water to soak through the white shirt, pebbled nipples teasing through the wetness.
She looked down at my hard cock, and her eyes widened before she looked back up to me.
I shrugged. “I guess I prefer you in one of my shirts, then.”
Silence followed as we stared at each other, the sexual tension even more potent than it was before. Yeah. Something changed—shifted in a different direction, and now I had no idea where it would take us.
Daniela brought her thumb to her lips and nipped at her nail, a nervous habit, it seemed. And then she saw the red stain on the beige sheets.
“Oh, God.” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Um…we need clean bedding. Gabriela must be sleeping by now.”
Silently, I watched her squirm as she swept across the room, opening closets in search of sheets. Did she think I’d care about that? The sick fuck in me loved that I made her bleed and relished the fact that no man had ever been where I had now claimed her.
“Shit. There are no sheets in here. I’ll just go look in one of the other rooms.”
“Daniela,” I grabbed sweatpants and slipped them on, “relax. I know where Gabriela keeps the sheets.”
She stilled. “Of course you do.” There was no missing the jealous sneer in her voice. But she made the right assumption. I knew where the sheets were because I hated sleeping with the smell of a woman’s perfume and the scent of wet pussy after they’d left. Another thing that seemed to have been different with Daniela, because—by God—I loved the smell of her pussy clinging to the air around me. If I had my way, I’d be sleeping right now with her sticky body next to mine with her cum-stained thighs draped over me.
I had just reached the door when the sound of engines and screeching tires came blasting through the open window, both Daniela and I rushing to see what was happening.
; My heart thumped, and my stomach twisted when I recognized the SUV that came to an abrupt stop right in front of the house, tires screaming across driveaway.
Daniela leaned over the windowsill. “Who is that?” But there was no need for me to answer her question when a woman got out of the passenger side door.
“It’s her.” Daniela glanced at me. “That’s Irina.”
Fuck.
There was a hard bashing on the door before Darion came rushing in, eyes wide with panic. “We got trouble, brother.”
Chapter Eighteen
My heart leaped up my throat, my chest no longer expanding as I tried to breathe the moment Darion stormed into the room to warn Gian.
“What the fuck’s going on?” Gian grabbed a shirt and pulled it over his head.
“Irina. Security just called to say she’s on her way. It’s an emergency.”
Gian grabbed his phone on the nightstand. “Motherfucker. Eleven missed calls.”
Darion frowned. “Why the fuck didn’t you answer your phone?” But his words were barely cold when he looked at the bed, noticing the bloodstained sheets. God. He knew. He knew what happened here tonight between Gian and me.
When he looked at me, I crossed my arms and ran my palms over my elbows. There was a visible flush on his cheeks, his expression sullen. Dark eyes showed me so many things while he kept staring at me as if he wanted me to see what he felt.
Pain.
Hurt.
Jealousy.
It was all there, and it pricked at my heart, thinking of what this moment was doing to him on the inside.
“Jesus Christ.” Gian’s voice thundered through the room. “This can’t be good. Daniela, stay here.” He rushed out of the bedroom, but Darion stayed behind, still not taking his eyes off me. It was like darkness had cloaked him, and not even the dim light in the room could dispel the gloom that painted his expression.
“Darion—”
But he turned and stomped out of the bedroom before I could continue.
“Jesus.” I inhaled, placing my hand on my forehead. Every muscle clamped down on bone, squeezing painfully at my insides.
A loud thud sounded, and I heard raised voices coming from downstairs. Fuck. There was no way I’d stay up here and not know what the hell was going on.
I ran out of the room and down the stairs. There was something heavy in the air, and it clung to my skin when stepped out the front door, finding Gian on his knees and leaning over what looked like a young woman, lying lifeless on the driveway. Naked.
Adrenaline smothered the blood in my veins, and I yelped as Gabriela came brushing past me with an arm full of towels.
“What the hell happened?” Gian yelled, leaning down, trying to listen for breathing while his finger attempted to find a pulse in her neck. That was when I saw the blood on his hands, and I held my breath.
“Jesus, Daniela. You can’t be here.” Darion placed his hands on my shoulders, but I shrugged out of his hold.
“What is going on?” Feeling dazed and confused, I kept staring at the scene in front of me. My husband was desperately trying to help a woman lying on the ground, and I had no idea what was happening.
I turned and shot daggers at Darion. “What the fuck is going on?”
“She got hurt.” He pointed at the girl.
“I can see that, but how?”
“Fuck.” He sighed, placing his hands on his waist. “You really can’t be here, Daniela.”
A breeze wafted through the front door, and the air was abruptly tainted with the pungent scent of fresh blood. I searched the area and noticed the woman I had seen before.
“Irina,” I whispered. Her cherry red lips pouted as her striking blue eyes gleamed with tears.
“Gabriela, call 911,” Gian ordered, and Gabriela immediately jumped into action. “Fuck, we need to put pressure on the wound.”
Panicked, yet possessed with adrenaline, I rushed forward, grabbed a towel, and pushed it against the gaping wound at the woman’s side, blood oozing out.
“Keep the pressure on that. Jesus, there’s no pulse. Fuck!” He sat up, positioned her neck, and started giving her CPR. She was so small, I was sure he’d break her sternum.
Liquid flooded through my fingers, the towel drenched in blood.
“Come on!” Gian shouted. “Breathe, dammit. Breathe.”
The girl’s face was ghostly pale; blue lips parted, blonde hair clinging to her cheeks.
“Breathe.” Gian’s forearms were strained as he pushed down on her chest, his neck stiff as he silently counted. He pinched her nose closed, placing his open mouth over hers, blowing before clutching his hands over her chest, fingers weaved together while pumping.
Up and down.
Up and down.
“Keep that fucking wound covered,” he yelled at me, his voice echoing through the night, panic coating his every word. “Don’t you fucking let go.”
I wasn’t sure whether he was talking to me or the girl he was trying to save.
Nothing. There was no movement. No sign that the CPR was working, yet Gian kept going, continuing to blow air down her throat, pumping her chest.
Nothing.
“Gian.” Darion stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder, but Gian snarled and jerked away. “One, two, three…”
An air of melancholy surrounded us, and I glanced up at Darion, who gave me a knowing look, lightly shaking his head.
“Four, five, six…”
A tear slipped down my cheek while I watched Gian fight with a desperation I had never seen before. The expression on his face held nothing but sheer determination, eyes wild and cold, and lips dry as he kept counting. He was no longer there. He lost grip on reality—and the reality was…the girl was dead.
“Gian.” I let go of the towel and tried to stand up when his arm shot out and grabbed my wrist, pulling me back down.
“Keep the fucking pressure on! Do you want her to fucking bleed out?”
Blood had already pooled onto the pavement, and my knees were immersed in the thick liquid, my shirt covered in crimson.
“Gian, stop,” I said softly. “She’s gone.”
“No.” He pursed his lips, not looking up at me once. “No. She’s not dead.”
“Gian—”
“She’s not fucking dead!”
I pinched my eyes closed, tears slipping down my cheeks, my chest cracked wide open.
“She’s not dead.” He kept pumping. Pumping. Pumping. Blowing air down her throat and pumping again.
Dear God.
“Gian, stop this.” Darion grabbed him around his shoulders, but Gian shoved him back hard, sending him to the ground.
“She’s not dead!” He pushed down on her chest, and a sickening crack followed.
Gian froze, and I gasped. I could practically feel the split of bone just from the sound alone.
“Oh, Jesus. Fuck.” Gian’s hands trembled as he lifted them from her chest, letting them hover over her. “Oh, God.” He looked at me, eyes wide and panicked, and I couldn’t stop the tears from pouring down. It was so surreal, like a damn horror movie was playing out right in front of me—the dead girl’s head lolled to the side, chest collapsed. She was so skinny and frail, as if she had been starved.
“Fuck!” He stumbled back on his ass, pulling his legs up, draping his arms over his knees.
Gabriela came rushing out, phone in hand, busy dialing. But the moment she took in the scene in front of her, she knew it was too late and sucked in a breath, choking on a sob as she dropped the phone to the ground.
All I could do was keep my eyes on Gian. I couldn’t understand what I was seeing, what the hell I just witnessed. It was like he entered this trance, going to a place where the only thing that mattered was saving this girl. Frantic. Manic. Crazed. To save this girl.
I didn’t move. Neither did anyone else. Not even the light of the full moon could defeat the darkness that had settled over all of us. The silence was excruciating, and t
he erratic beating of my heart was the only sound I heard.
Gian pulled his hand through his hair, tugging hard at the ends. “Jesus fucking Christ! Goddammit!”
I whimpered. I hated seeing him like this. The pain. The agony. The utter defeat that framed his every feature—it was too hard to witness.
Darion came up behind me and reached down to help me to my feet. The metallic stench of blood grew more robust, more intense, and I glanced down at the pool of thick, crimson liquid. Only moments ago, that blood was the lifeforce that flowed through this woman’s veins, and now it stained the asphalt.
“Come on, let’s get you inside.” Darion guided me toward the house, but I couldn’t leave Gian out here.
I pulled from Darion’s grip and walked toward my husband. “Gian?”
He didn’t look up at me, his eyes pinned on the dead girl.
“Gian?” I crouched down beside him. “Let’s go inside.”
“You shouldn’t be here.” His tone was cold.
“Please,” I urged. “Let’s go inside.”
“Gian?” The woman who had been standing silently to the side the entire time stepped toward us, and he looked up at her, his eyes flashing with something hard. Rage. “What the fuck, Irina?” He pushed himself up to his feet. “Why the fuck did you bring her here?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.”
“The safehouse, Irina. The motherfucking safehouse,” he yelled, his voice like a sonic boom through the night sky. “Not fucking here.”
“Don’t you think I would have if I could?” Her bottom lip trembled, blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Our last goddamn safehouse has been compromised. They are fucking everywhere, Gian. Everywhere.”
“Then you should have stopped at the nearest fucking hospital.”
“And tell them what? That I found this girl bleeding in the trunk of my car?”
“How did you find her?” Darion stepped in next to Gian.