by Rye Hart
He sunk his teeth into my neck and my entire body pulled taut.
I moaned out into the room, choking on a name I didn’t know as my back arched. I could feel his teeth grab hold of me while my tits pressed against his clothed chest. His hand wandered over my body, feeling every part of me while his hips continued their assault. My legs shook from the feelings rocking through me.
But then I felt his fingertips slip between my legs and the moment he found that sensitive bundle, I began to whimper and beg.
“Please. It’s too much. I can’t. My prince, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, my little songbird. And you will.”
His voice rattled my bones and shook my joints. I moaned and whimpered for his mercy while the pad of his thumb sent electric shocks down my legs. I was squirming underneath him as he explored around inside of me, pulling from me yet another moment of rapture as my jaw unhinged in silent pleasure.
His lips collided with mine, swallowing my groans, while my pussy clamped down around his dick again.
I could feel him pulsing, slamming deeper into me with every passing second. The bed was knocking against the wall and his hands pinned me to the bed. I had him in a vice grip. My body was pulling him deeper and deeper into me. I could feel my wetness pooling underneath my ass, soaking the sheets below us as his lips crashed against mine.
I tugged relentlessly at the handcuffs around my wrists, trying to free myself so I could cling to him.
So I could pull him even closer and take him all in.
He slammed into me one last time and I felt him twitch. His face dipped into my neck and latched on again, nipping and sucking on my skin as I felt something spill inside me. My legs fell to the bed in total exhaustion as he grunted into my neck and I could feel the way he was shaking against me.
He lifted his head from my neck and kissed me softly while his hands reached up and freed my wrists.
My body tumbled to the bed as my eyes fluttered closed. I could feel him pull out from between my legs, releasing the waterfall of fluids that drenched the bed below me. He moved me over in his strong hands, sliding me underneath the satin sheet before he draped my body in a fur blanket.
I was so exhausted from everything that had just taken place that my body automatically swept me off into a deep, dark sleep.
I dreamt he was right there, holding me close and massaging my body while I slept. I swore I could still feel his hands on me and his eyes on me. I was sure his hands were still roaming my curves, rubbing down my wrists while my body got the rest it so desperately needed.
But when I opened my eyes, I knew that I was alone.
I couldn’t believe what had happened. In my wildest fantasies, I never imagined that sex could be that powerful, that carnal, that earth-shattering. I’d experienced orgasms before at my own hands. I had a fun little collection of toys at home I’d attempted to experiment with. But none of them amounted to anything close to what I’d just experienced. None of them made me feel the way my dark prince made me feel.
I suddenly realized I was still wearing the blindfold and I took it off and tossed it to the side.
My legs were throbbing and my wrists were aching. My pussy was still sore and every movement I made felt like I was creaking from within. I rolled over to see if he was there, to see if there was a chance that I could look at his face and gaze into the eyes of the man that took my innocence and replaced it with a passion I never thought existed.
But all I found was a handwritten note on the pillow next to my head.
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
the ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
are full of passionate intensity…
It was a quote from a poem by Yeats. I read it over and over again as I sat up, allowing the satin sheet and the fur blanket to fall from my naked body. I scanned the room, looking for him as the note trembled in my hand.
But I was all alone, with the party still raging downstairs.
With no tears in my eyes and a stoic expression on my face, I slipped from the sheets and dressed myself. I tucked the note in my lacy bra, holding it as close to my heart as I could get it. I slipped my mask that had been placed next to me, back over my face and smoothed my hands over my dress, trying to make my hair look presentable before I wandered back out into the crowd.
I’d given my virginity to a man whose name I didn’t even know and all I had to prove to me the encounter was real was a note and a pleasantly sore body.
I knew I would never regret it. I would never regret being with him. But oh, did I feel the heartache of his absence. I was nothing more to him than a passing distraction, while he was the man that had opened my eyes to everything. An entire world I would never have understood existed had it not been for him.
He wasn’t reaching for my heart when he was groping my chest and that revelation brought actual tears to my eyes.
I was numb and a bit shell-shocked. I had been swept off my feet by a man who I knew was dangerous. I could see it in his eyes and feel it in his hands. I made my way down the stairs and was ushered out by the two people clad only in buckles. I scanned the room and saw Crystal dancing between two men who were dressed identically. I didn’t want to interrupt her fun, so I walked along the edge of the club and took a seat that overlooked the dance floor where I’d met my dark prince.
“So, what was it like?”
I turned my face toward Eli as she pulled my hair back. She grinned at something on my neck, her fingertips tracing a place I realized the man had sunk his teeth into.
“He left a fun little mark there,” she said, grinning. “The beloved prince of this dark palace.”
“Beloved? Whatever.”
“Uh oh,” Eli said. “Trouble in paradise?”
“There’s no paradise anywhere in this place. Just an encounter that didn’t mean much.”
“Did you at least have fun?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said, shrugging.
Eli’s eyebrows hiked up on her forehead. I could tell she was curious and I was trying desperately to keep my tears at bay. But just as she went to ask another question, Crystal came bounding over with the two men she’d been dancing with.
“Rose! There you are! Getting into trouble? I hope not, because I found us two wonderful men to play with for the night.”
“Thanks for thinking of me,” I said as I stood. “But I’ve had enough fun for one night. I’m really tired. I think I’m gonna head home.”
I could see the disappointed look on Crystal’s face and I wasn’t about to ruin her evening.
Or Eli’s, for that matter.
“But I think Eli might enjoy the company for the evening,” I said. “Don’t worry about me. I know your address. I’ll just call a car.”
“Are you sure?” Crystal asked. “Because I’ll leave right now and not look back.”
I saw her eyes flicker to my neck and widen. I felt Eli stand behind me and put her hand on my lower back, but I was done being led around.
I told them what I wanted and, now, all I wanted them to do was respect that.
“Have fun you guys. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I went outside and called a car with my cellphone. The dress I wore didn’t leave much room for pockets, which meant I had to check my purse before we came in. I had just enough money to get me to the train station, where I could use my credit card to pay for a ticket to get my ass home to Pennsylvania.
I had no intention of staying in this city any longer than I had to.
I knew Crystal would ship me my stuff that I left at her apartment. I had all the essentials I needed with me in my purse. I purchased a coat in a nearby shop when I saw people staring at me in the train station. Then, on the rhythmic train ride back home, I reread his note. I read it so many times, his voice became engraved into my memory. I started thinking in his voice. The dreams that fluttered through my head while I rode those train track
s home were in his voice.
He permeated my entire existence and he would never remember me after tonight.
He was clearly referencing my loss of innocence with the line of the poem. How he took my virginity that night. He was also calling himself “the worst,” while also comparing himself to Yeats’s definition of “passionate intensity.” The man wasn’t just gorgeous. He was intelligent. Deep, with an innate understanding of how the famous poets strung their words together.
It made me ache for him more, which pulled tears down my cheeks as my eyes settled on the passing countryside.
The note had been a warning to scare me off. He told me he was dangerous and every ounce of me believed him. But being in his arms, I’d never felt more alive. The way he’d made my body feel still had me thrumming with electricity. The memory of his voice alone shook my knees and weakened my legs. But I couldn’t give any more thought to it. I had a life back in the Poconos. A life that required my stability and my strength.
I couldn’t be weak for a man who saw me as nothing other than his toy for the night.
I’d had a well-deserved vacation. I was bringing home memories I’d hold onto for the rest of my life. I’d lost my virginity to a handsome, mysterious man whom I’d never forget, or regret. I had a walk on the wild side and I felt stronger than ever when it came to raising my brother.
I’d carry that man within me for the rest of my life and his voice would give me strength.
Chapter Eight – Camillo
I watched her as she fell asleep in my bed that evening. I massaged her curves and kissed the spot on her neck I’d attached myself to. I nestled her wrists in my lap while I massaged the ache from her arms. She would be marked in the most beautiful ways by the time the sun came up, but I wouldn’t be here to witness them.
I couldn’t be. Not after what had just happened.
There was a warmth in my chest as I gazed upon her body, a warmth I hadn’t felt since my mother had been alive. I wanted to hold her, to spend the night learning her skin. I wanted to keep her by my side and protect her. Guard the innocence she still managed to hold onto, even after I ripped everything from her.
I wanted to usher her into this lifestyle and bring her to heights she’d never experience otherwise. But that couldn’t happen. She was too young and I was in no position to bring her deeper into my darkness.
No matter how much I couldn’t stop kissing her naked skin, I knew I had to leave her to go on about her life.
I scrawled a few lines of a Yeats poem for her. I left it by her pillow and dressed myself, gazing upon her one last time before I took my leave. The lines reminded me of the shadows inside and warned her that she had to stay away at all costs.
No matter what this night had done to her. Or to me.
I gazed upon her innocence one last time, drinking up the warmth that spread within my chest before I left the club. I stayed in the shadows, making my way to my car out back. I had no intention of attempting to top the perfection I’d just experienced and the only thing I wanted to do was head to my penthouse apartment and look down over the lights of the city.
Waves of regret washed over me while the whole of New York City twinkled up at me. I’d taken her virginity, the very innocence of that young, beautiful woman. I’d replaced it with a kink that consumed me. A kink that defined the very man I’d turned into. I’d taken her angelic, songbird rapture and twisted it for my dark pleasures and, by getting wrapped up in the moment, I’d fucked her without a condom.
I’d marked her in the ultimate way and that worried me.
I was clean. I had no worries about that. I got checked out multiple times a year by the best doctors in the country, but I never intended to have sex with her without some sort of protection. I wasn’t concerned about catching anything or giving her anything in return, and the mere fact that I let my guard down enough to forget something that important showed the influence she already had over me.
The influence I never wanted to leave in the first place.
As I stood there looking over the city of New York, I realized I didn’t even know her name. I’d spilled myself into her and pulled orgasms from her body that covered her in a sheen of sweat, and yet I had no idea what to call her.
Nothing other than my songbird.
In the end, it was better this way. I couldn’t see her or talk with her again. I could never reveal myself. With my line of work and the war I’d sunk myself into, there was too much risk for her.
Too much risk to ruin the innocence she still carried with her.
My enemies would love to send a message. Something stronger than just petty acts of vandalism and buying up property. I couldn’t give my enemies anything they could use against me or the family I now headed up since my father’s death. If I took this woman under my wing—if I succumbed to her the way I had tonight—she would be the ultimate bargaining chip. The one thing that made me weak in the eyes of my enemies.
Plus, a woman like her could never love a monster like me; not if she knew the things I’d done in my lifetime. I wanted to remember the look of adoration on her face just before I blindfolded her.
The glass of whisky I was holding in my hand shattered in my grip. I felt like a piece of shit. I ruined the most beautiful thing to ever step foot into my club. I could never see her again, and that was the vow I made to myself that night. I could never see my perfect princess again.
My beautiful little songbird.
I had to focus on my business, on crushing my enemies, and I had to forget about tonight. She was just another woman who satisfied my appetite, and nothing else.
But even I knew that was a lie.
My hand bled as I watched the broken glass fall to the ground. My phone rang in my pocket, and I picked it up without a second thought, feeling the warm blood cascade down my wrist.
Just like her warm, virginal blood had cascaded down my cock only hours before.
“Hello?”
“Hey there, brother. How’d the party go tonight?”
“Lorenzo,” I said. “How are you? How’s that nephew of mine?”
“Oh, you know,” he said. “We named him after me because he causes just as much trouble.”
“Good,” I said. “That’s the only thing nine-year-old boys should be doing. Digging in the dirt and giving their parents heart attacks.”
“It’s all we ever did,” he said, chuckling.
“Yes, yes it was. To what do I owe this phone call?”
“I heard about the troubles surrounding the Del Vecchio family. You good?”
“Of course, I’m good,” I said. “The party was good, and I’m good. I’m giving this matter a bit of… personal attention.”
“Keep your guard up, brother,” he said. “They’re ruthless. I can’t have you dying off before Junior can tell you the fun little thing he told me today.”
“And what did that troublemaker tell you?” I asked.
“He told me you were his hero.”
I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes. I allowed the air of my beloved city to wash over me as his words fell deeply into my ears. The day my brother had called me and told me he and his wife were pregnant, I didn’t think I could get any happier. They named him Lorenzo Camillo Moretti, Junior, and I was there in the hospital the day he was born. I didn’t think I could get any happier until the first time I pressed a kiss to that little boy’s forehead.
Until this very moment.
“I promise you, no matter what happens, I’ll be around to watch that boy grow up,” I said.
“Good. Because you’re his godfather. If anything happens to me, I need you alive.”
“Nothing is happening to any of us, you got that?” I asked. “Quit that bullshit talk.”
“Just keep one eye open, brother. And if you need me, I’m only a short plane ride away.”
“I hear you. I’ve got this under control. Talk with you soon.”
Little did I know that would be the last t
ime I would talk to him, and little did I know the Del Vecchio family would make a liar out of me.
Chapter Nine - Rose
Three Years Later
The bulk of the dinner rush at the diner had just finished and I was wiping down the disgusting countertops everyone left behind. My eyes were glued to the clock, counting down the seconds until I could finally be free of this place. I had so many things I had to do and so many things I had to take care of.
Kevin was now thirteen years old, and he had school in the morning, which meant I had to make his lunch beforehand. I was working the morning shift, which meant the breakfast rush just after I dropped him off at school.
Not only that, but I had to get my three-year-old daughter, Ana, to a doctor’s appointment tomorrow instead of working the lucrative lunch shift.
At the diner where I now worked, there were two shifts you wanted: breakfast and lunch. The dinner shift—which I’d just worked—was full of people who wanted a cheap meal after drinking at the few bars in town and they always left shitty tips. I asked my roommate to keep Kevin and Ana tonight so I could pick up the extra shift when someone called out sick, but I was ready to get back home to them.
Ana had never been away from me for this long and I was getting worried that she thought I wasn’t coming back.
It hurt to give up my lunch shift tomorrow and miss all those tips, but I was adamant about taking Ana to all of her appointments. Cassie had been wonderful watching them for me, but I didn’t want her to do the things a mother should do for her child.
Three years ago, I’d had an amazing night of passion. A few weeks later, I’d started feeling nauseous and I had to keep calling out of work. I took medication to try and stave off the nausea so I could work and take care of Kevin, but Cassie was the one who dragged me to the drugstore. She bought me the ninety-nine-cent pregnancy test that changed my entire life and she held me while I cried that night.
She was there for every single doctor’s appointment and held my hand through every single ultrasound. She stayed up late at night, abating my fears and reassuring me that I could do this. She held my hand as I gave birth to the most beautiful consequence that could’ve ever come from that night I shared with my dark prince and, now, Cassie was my trusted babysitter when I needed to pick up other shifts. She had been there from day one with the revelation of my pregnancy and she held me up when I couldn’t hold myself up on my own.