Russo Saga Collection

by Nicolina Martin

  Cupping her breast, I pinch the nipple, harder and harder until she jerks and lets out a whimper, and that’s when I slam into her with all my force. She cries out and pushes against me. I keep pinching her nipples, making her arch, her whole body tense and trembling. I nibble at the sensitive skin on her neck, then I bite her, eliciting a new cry.

  “Touch yourself,” I whisper in her ear, and she obediently moves a hand down along her body, following my directive.

  “Please,” she gasps.

  “Please what?”

  “Please hurt my nipples. More, I—”

  I’m more than happy to oblige. “Like this?” I pinch really fucking hard, squeezing it between my thumb and index finger, twisting it.

  “Yes,” she cries and starts convulsing. “I’m gonna come, God!”

  I grab her hips and push her over on her belly, then I pull her up so that she ends up on all fours. She groans loudly as I fuck her hard through her orgasm, a firm hold on her hips, slamming her to me over and over.

  “I’m—” she cries, then there’s nothing but an inarticulate wail.

  Her cunt squeezing my cock in a second series of long deep spasms sends me over the edge and I lose all control. After, I slip out and fall on my back next to her, panting heavily, sweaty, and just plain happy. I’m happy I found her, happy she came back to me. I know I shouldn’t, but I’m falling so hard for this little woman.

  She shifts and sits on the bed, her back to me, her shoulders squared. “I need the bathroom,” she mumbles, gets up and disappears.

  She’s gone a long time. Water flushes. Shower. Toilet. Silence. Finally, she comes back, a towel wrapped around her.

  “I need clothes.” Her face is stiff, unemotional, her eyes dark and glazed over.

  “What for?”

  “I can’t go out naked.” She holds my gaze, unflinching.

  “Where’re you going?”

  “Back to my hotel, Nathan.”

  I frown, my heart stuttering. “Why? Stay?”

  “I’m not staying, Nathan. I’m leaving. Clothes or no clothes, but I’d prefer not walking the streets naked.”

  I dart out of bed. “What the fuck are you on about?”

  She clenches her jaw. “I. Am. Not. Staying. Are you going to give me something to wear?”

  I move in on her, towering over her, but she doesn’t back up. “Go back to bed. You’re not going anywhere.”

  The slap on my cheek is absolutely unexpected, and well deserved, I guess. My head rocks to the side. The fury on her face is instantly replaced by fear. Something dark rises in me at the realization she thinks I’m going to hurt her. I grab her wrist. She doesn’t pull back.

  “Don’t go.”

  “You can’t keep me, Nathan. I’m not property, and you’re not kidnapping me. I know it. Give me something to wear and let me go.”

  “Are you coming back?”

  She shakes her head. “No.”

  I’m confused. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. It’s too much. You’re too much. I can’t do this.”

  Tears well up in her eyes, and something in me breaks at the forlorn look on her face as her cheeks turn wet. I let her go and snatch up my shirt off the floor, handing it to her.

  “My pants are too big, but with a belt…”

  She pulls the white shirt over her head and shakes out her long damp locks. She looks fantastic in the oversized garment. It reaches almost to her knees. Her dark eyes are huge and pained. It’s as if a knife twists my gut when I hand her my pants and belt. I watch in silence as she dresses, locates her shoes and walks over to the door. Turning once, she meets my gaze. The expression in her eyes matches the agony that rages inside me. Why? Feeling as naked on the inside as I am on the outside, I beg her wordlessly; don’t leave, don’t leave. Then she pulls the door open and disappears. Just like that.

  I stand numb, wondering what the hell happened. I want to curse her, but I can’t, she’s just too good a person for that. She doesn’t deserve it.

  “You can’t keep me.”

  She truly doesn’t deserve me barging into her life.

  That’s when I realize I want to keep her.

  For real.

  Not just for a few days, but forever.

  Sydney

  I sob the whole way back to the hotel, stumbling on my high heels and in the too-long pants. The little room feels cold and empty as I fall into bed, a few hours left until dawn. I hug my chest and rock back and forth. Everything hurts. Every part of me. My nether parts are sore, my butt stings, my neck aches where he planted his teeth, and muscles I never knew I had protest whenever I move. Worst of all is the hollowness in my chest. I didn’t want to leave, but I can’t stay. I can’t take more. He’s eating me alive. He awakens something in me I can’t put words to. He frightens me and makes me feel safe at the same time. I can’t do it.

  Knowing he is in that apartment, a few minutes away, tears my insides to pieces and sleep refuses to come to me. I wonder what he feels, what he thinks, and every time I see him before me my skin tingles from the loss. No matter what I do, I’ll lose. Either I cut him out and lose him, or I stay, and lose myself.

  When the shadows turn from black to gray, and the new day begins, I shower and put on pants and a blouse. Inspecting my neck, the bluish hickeys and the red swelling, I dig out a scarf and make the best out of it. Today, I’ll do nothing. Beach, sun, people ogling, and umbrella drinks.

  My mind is a mess as I eat. My thoughts won’t stop spinning. Last night was terrifying, and incredible, and then he was so tender. I almost felt loved. Him begging me to stay plays on repeat in my mind and I feel like shit.

  After breakfast, I change into a little sundress, and sling my bright yellow beach bag over my shoulder. I’m off to the beach. I refuse to sit and mope on this last day here. The flip-flops make a sucking sound with every step. The hotel might not be fancy, but it has a golden location: a twenty-minute walk to the city center, lots of restaurants and cafes nearby, and the beach right around the corner. And Nathan a street away.

  No, not thinking of him!

  Further to the east along the coastline there’s a harbor and industries, to the west more stretches of white sand. And everywhere open horizon, shimmering heat and a warm breeze. It’s close to noon and the absolute worst time of day to stay in the sun, but this is the day I’m going to be on the beach and a little sunburn isn’t going to stop me. I only need a good suntan lotion and some shade.

  Hordes of families leave for lunch as I arrive which is a good opportunity to find a chair. The one that perfectly fits what I’m looking for is placed between a bar and the edge of the water. It reclines, has a semi-clean cushion, and a shade. The bar itself is more of a rustic porch than a house, a white sail serves as stand-in for a roof. They play reggae music and I tap my foot with the rhythm as I order a light beer and then return to my spot. I spread my towel and pick up the book I bought the first afternoon in the city. A book I’ve barely opened.

  Chapter 18

  Sydney

  “Is this seat taken?”

  I jerk awake and rip off my sunglasses, recognizing the voice immediately. My heart leaps to my throat in both joy and annoyance. The words jog the memory of my almost-mugger waking me up that first afternoon. I squint against the sun, and there’s Nathan. He looks like a GQ model with beige linen pants, a pristinely white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a mane of unruly dark hair and aviator sunglasses. Sex on legs. His reappearance robs me of my breath. As well as my resolve. I gape, speechless.

  He laughs and motions to the seat next to me.

  “Well fuck me, I hate those words, and since when did you start asking for anything?”

  “I always ask.”

  He grins down at me, devilishly handsome, and my stupid heart jolts. I see myself reflected in his sunglasses. “Bullshit. You never ask.”

  He laughs and slumps on the chair next to mine. “You’ve develo
ped quite a potty mouth since I first met you.”

  “I ran into some bad company,” I quip.

  Nathan raises his eyebrows and cocks his head. “Is that so? Unlucky you. Having a nice day?”

  “I thought I told you to stay away.”

  “Well, technically, you didn’t.”

  I groan, put my sunglasses back on and turn my face to the ocean. “I’m having a great day. Calm. Quiet. No one beating my butt.”

  “Tender? Can you sit on it?”

  I scoff. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m built tougher than some people like to think.”

  The look he gives me over the edge of his sunglasses as he slowly licks his lower lip sends a swarm of butterflies chasing each other through my belly. He cocks his head. “How’s the neck?”

  “You wanna start inspecting the bruises you’ve given me?”

  “Oh yes,” he says, his voice deepening.

  I shiver. “Well you can’t. How’d you find me?”

  Nathan gestures toward the hotel and then the waterfront. “They said you’d gone to the beach. I got lucky.”

  “You’re always ‘lucky’, aren’t you?”

  “Luck comes to those who deserve it.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Seems I’m one of the undeserving.”

  He scoffs. “Seems to me you’re one of the ungrateful.”

  “Hey!”

  Winking, he gives me a once-over. “Did you forget your sunscreen?”

  “What?” I look down at my thighs. They are a bright, unhealthy red. The skin stings and feels too tight. “But—I’ve been in the shade the whole time.”

  “Aren’t you born and raised in the Sunshine State? Don’t you know the sand reflects the sunlight? And the water.” He nods toward it and I follow his gaze, watching the glittering ocean.

  “Natives stay away from the sun,” I mutter.

  “Paleface,” he teases.

  “Well, you’re no poster boy for a tan either.”

  “I’m fair skinned. I get bright red, then I peel and am back to white. What is your excuse?”

  “Sexy.”

  “Always,” he answers and pokes a finger in my side, making me squeal.

  I catch his hand and my heart jolts as he entwines his fingers with mine. Everything inside me screams not to do this, not to fall for this again, that I’ll get hurt. Not even eight hours have passed since I fled his apartment, and here I am again, my whole body yearning for more of this man. I pull back my hand and rub at the skin that burns from his touch.

  “But I don’t get it. You’re dark, I mean, your hair. You totally look like someone who’d tan prettily.”

  Nathan looks at my restless hands and grins knowingly. “My family comes from Italy. Russo name didn’t give it away?”

  “Didn’t think about it,” I mutter. “Then how in God’s name are you fair skinned? And your eyes, they’re blue.”

  “Yep. Happens. In the northern parts some are even blonde. Mom is as Italian as they come, but she was a redhead before she turned gray. Dad was dark, though, your typical big-nosed Italian brute.” He winks, and warmth shoots through my chest. Damn, gorgeous man who knows exactly how to make a woman melt.

  “So who came from Italy? Your parents? Or… am I asking too much?”

  He laughs. “No worries, Syd. My grandparents came to the US back in the fifties, looking for happiness on the other side of the pond.”

  “Oh. Did they find it? I mean, you look like you thrive.”

  Something dark flickers through his gaze, making my heart stutter.

  “Not really, no.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t need to be sorry about someone else’s failures, sweetie.” He leans forward and strokes my cheek. “Tell me something about yourself.”

  “Like what?”

  “Are you happy in Miami? Did you ever want to live anywhere else?”

  I frown. I haven’t really thought about it before. I’ve just settled with what I have. “This is my first trip abroad.”

  He looks taken aback. “Really?”

  I nod. “You? Do you travel a lot?”

  Nathan smiles and pushes a hand through his dark tresses, letting out a short laugh. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  “Yeah? What do you do then?”

  He doesn’t answer, but narrows his eyes as he regards me. I suddenly feel awkward, as if I’m interrogating him. He’s been so private; I’m surprised how much he’s revealed. Actually, I’m in shock we’re having a normal conversation at all. Is it because I pushed back? Because I stood up for myself last night? I’ve never been a pushover, and I’m not starting now.

  He puts a warm hand on my forearm and takes off his sunglasses. “Ask away. I like it. No one ever—I don’t open up to people. It’s nice for a change. I just can’t answer every question to your satisfaction.”

  I nod. I’ve come to accept that there are things behind that smooth façade that I might not want to know. It pulls me to him, and it shakes me to my core. It makes me want to run, but how can I? I can’t escape myself.

  Putting his sunglasses back on, he grins mischievously, strokes my arm and then leans back in his chair, his hand still on me. Then he turns his palm up. “Do you wanna take it this time?”

  I frown. Then I remember. Back on the plane when we were about to take off. My heart pounds, I chew on my lip and wonder if this isn’t a really bad idea. I know it is, but he’s honey, I’m the bee, and my hand finds his on its own accord. He entwines our fingers, his thumb slowly stroking the back of mine. It’s such an innocent gesture, but it makes my breath hitch, and goosebumps chase each other up along my arm. I’m like an instrument he’s playing oh so skillfully.

  I clear my throat. “So, you live in New York?”

  “Among other places,” he says lightly.

  I gape. “You have several homes?”

  Nathan shrugs.

  “This is where I should bombard you with questions, because that’s just not normal, but I’ll be cool and just… I don’t know. Jeez. Where were you born?”

  “The great city of Chicago.”

  “How cliché of you, an Italian from Chicago. Has the smell of mobster all over it.”

  His face stiffens for a moment, then he laughs. “You have a very vivid imagination, Miss Lewis.”

  “Oh, I do!” I say, and then my cheeks heat up.

  “I know you do.” His voice sounds several shades darker, and a shiver runs through me.

  I cough and swat at a little fly who has settled on my forearm. “So, did you have a happy childhood?”

  He regards me and then he grimaces. “Not really. Dad died young. Mom took over the business. I started working at twelve. Me and my older brother had to take care of our younger siblings. Mom was never around.”

  “Oh, wow. You have many siblings?”

  “We’re five.”

  “Must’ve been tough. Didn’t anyone help you? Relatives?”

  “Those were the cards we were given. It’s all there is to it.”

  “What was the family business.”

  “Construction.”

  “Really? And your mom took over?”

  “She’s not your average housewife. Let’s leave it at that.”

  His face closes and I get a strong feeling the session is over. I’m a bit rattled. His childhood sounds so weird, like something from a few decades earlier. I think of my own pampered life. My dad, architect, made lots of money. Mom, trophy wife more or less, until she grew bored and left to find happiness elsewhere. All I had to do was get good grades, everything else was provided in excess.

  No wonder he’s a bit rough around the edges.

  No wonder it pulls protected, innocent, naïve little Sydney to him as if I’ve lost my mind.

  It’s mid-afternoon. My stomach growls and reminds me I haven’t eaten since breakfast.

  Nathan nods at the bar. “Can I get you something?”

  I’m happy for the change o
f topic. “Yes, please. A beer? And a sandwich if they have it. Or anything edible. Oh, and coffee.”

  A corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked smile. I stick my tongue out at him. In a flash, he leans over and catches it, pressing his lips against mine, coaxing my mouth open. Our sunglasses collide and we both toss them at almost the same time. His hands find their way to the back of my head and he pulls me to him as our kiss deepens. Then he breaks free, putting a hand to his groin.

  “Fuck, gotta stop while I can still walk.”

  I put a hand over my mouth, fighting the heat that threatens to melt my insides. “Nathan,” I croak. “No.”

  He stares at me with such intensity it makes me squirm. “All I want to do right now is grab you by the hair and pull you back to bed.”

  I shake my head. His husky voice and his suggestion send a flurry of want through me, making my pussy pound with instant arousal, and all I can do is fight it.

  Nathan grins knowingly, straightens and puts his glasses back on. “Back in a minute.”

  I lean back and squeeze my eyes shut. I put my palms to my breasts, my nipples are hard peaks, and I’m crazy wet between my legs. I’m so screwed. He only needs to look at me and my body goes nuts.

  My mind spins from the new knowledge. He has siblings? Lots of them? I imagined him being an only child. He seems so alone.

  He returns with the beverages. “They’ll come with a sandwich in a little while.” He nods toward me as he hands me the beer. “Do you have panties under there?” Then he takes a large gulp from his own bottle.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I burst out, pulling at the hem of the dress. “That’s none of your business.” Flushed, I put the ice-cold bottle to first one cheek and then the other.

  “Hot and bothered?”

  I glare at him and decide to deflect. “Are you close with your siblings then?”

  He studies me, as if he’s pondering what to say. “In a way. It’s complicated. Probably not close like you mean it.”