Chapter Ten
Alessandro
The shower runs hot enough to scald, washing away blood and violence but not the memory of Elena’s arms around me. Not the way she held me despite everything, the blood, the admission, the darkness that should have sent her running.
Steam fills the bathroom as hands brace against the marble tile. Three men dead tonight. Greco’s lieutenant bleeding out on a warehouse floor. The message sent in the only language the underworld understands.
And Elena waited. Didn’t run. Told me to come to bed.
The water shuts off. A towel wraps around my hips. In the mirror, the reflection shows exactly what years of this life have created, scars crossing my torso from knife fights and bullets, tattoos covering most of the damage, dark circles under eyes that have seen too much.
Not the kind of man who deserves what’s waiting in the bedroom.
But for once, selfishness wins over self-preservation.
When I enter the bedroom, every coherent thought evaporates.
Elena is lying on the bed, my bed, wearing nothing but one of my white dress shirts and black lace panties that should be illegal.
The shirt is unbuttoned just enough to show the curve of her breasts, sleeves rolled up to her elbows.
Her dark hair spreads across my pillow like silk, and those honey-colored eyes are watching me with a heat that goes straight through my chest.
“Hi,” she says softly, like she’s not currently destroying every defense mechanism built over fifteen years.
“Hi.” The word comes out rougher than intended. “You’re in my bed.”
“I am. You told me to wait here.” She sits up slowly, the movement making the shirt gape open further. “Having second thoughts?”
Second, third, and fourth thoughts. Because walking across this room means crossing a line that can’t be uncrossed. Means taking this beautiful, innocent woman and marking her as mine in ways she can’t fully comprehend yet.
But her eyes hold no fear. No hesitation. Just want, trust and stubborn determination.
“Last chance to run, tesoro.” The warning comes out dark, promising. “After this, you’re mine. Completely. No going back.”
“Stop trying to scare me.” She rises to her knees on the bed, and the sight of her like that, in my shirt, on my sheets, looking at me like I’m something other than a monster, nearly breaks my control. “I want this. I want you. Stop making me wait.”
The distance between the door and the bed closes in three strides. Her sharp inhale when my hand tangles in her hair, tilting her head back, is the most satisfying sound in the world.
“When I take you, it won’t be gentle.” The words are delivered against her throat, feeling her pulse race beneath my lips. “I’m going to use you, take everything you’re offering and then demand more. I’m going to make you scream, make you beg, make you forget every man who came before me.”
“Yes.” The word comes out breathy. “God, yes.”
“Safe word. Choose one now.”
Her eyes meet mine, pupils blown wide with desire. “Red.”
“Good girl.” The praise makes her shiver. “Now tell me, have you ever let a man completely control your pleasure?”
“No.”
“Have you ever been truly dominated? Pushed past what you thought were your limits?”
“No.” Her breath hitches as my free hand slides under the shirt, splaying across her stomach. “Alessandro—”
“Have you ever been fucked by a man who knows exactly what he wants and takes it without apology?”
“No.” The admission is almost a whimper.
“Then you’re in for an education.” The shirt gets stripped off in one smooth motion, leaving her in nothing but those black lace panties. “Cristo, look at you.”
She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. Skin like cream, curves in all the right places, nipples already hard and begging for attention. The urge to worship every inch of her wars with the need to take, possess, and claim.
Taking wins.
“On your knees. At the edge of the bed. Now.”
She moves without hesitation, repositioning herself exactly where instructed. The obedience sends satisfaction coursing through me.
“Good. Now, this is how tonight works. You do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you, how I tell you. No questioning, no hesitating. Your job is to take what I give you and ask for more.” My hand traces the line of her spine, feeling her tremble. “Think you can handle that?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
She catches on immediately. “Yes, Alessandro.”
“Better.” The towel drops, and her eyes widen at the sight of exactly how much I want her. “But I think we can do better than that. When we’re like this, when I’m giving orders and you’re obeying, you call me sir. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
The words go straight to my cock. “Open that pretty mouth, tesoro. Show me what you can do.”
She leans forward without hesitation, and when her lips wrap around me, warm, wet, and perfect, a groan tears from my throat. She starts slow, tentative, clearly trying to figure out what I like.
“Deeper.” The command comes out harsh. “Take more. I want to feel the back of your throat.”
She tries, eyes watering slightly as she pushes past her limit. Her hand comes up to grip what won’t fit, and the sight of her on her knees, mouth stretched around me, trying so hard to please, it’s almost enough to end this before it begins.
“That’s it. Good girl.” Fingers tangle in her hair, not controlling yet, just holding. “Now relax your throat. Let me in.”
She does, and the sensation when she finally takes me deep enough to choke makes my vision blur. The instinct to hold her there, to use her mouth until I come down her throat, is overwhelming.
But no. Not yet. Tonight is about showing her exactly what belonging to me means, and that means her pleasure comes first.
Even if making her wait is part of the torture.
“Enough.” Pulling back takes more willpower than facing down Greco’s men. “On your back. Middle of the bed. Spread your legs.”
She scrambles to obey, sprawling across dark sheets like an offering. The black lace panties are soaked through, she’s been this turned on the whole time.
“Please,” she whispers.
“Please what? Use your words.”
“Please touch me. Please, I need—”
“You need what?” The mattress dips as I move over her, caging her body with mine. “Tell me exactly what you need, Elena.”
“I need you. Inside me. Making me yours.” Her hips cant up, seeking friction. “Please, sir.”
The “sir” nearly breaks my control. “Soon. But first—” My mouth finds her breast, teeth grazing the sensitive peak. “First, I’m going to make you come so hard you forget your own name.”
My hand slides down her stomach, over the lace, feeling how wet she is. “Cristo, you’re soaked. All this from sucking my cock?”
“Yes. God, yes.” Her back arches when my fingers find her clit through the lace. “Please—”
“Patience.” The panties get ripped off, tossed aside, leaving her completely bare beneath me. “Beautiful. So, fucking beautiful.”
My mouth follows the path my hands blazed, down her neck, across her breasts, over her stomach. Her thighs fall open automatically, and the trust in that gesture makes something in my chest crack.
“Alessandro—” His name becomes a moan when my mouth finds her center. “Oh God—”
“No God here, tesoro. Just me. Just this.” My tongue circles her clit, tasting her arousal. “Just you falling apart because I’m making you.”
She tastes like heaven and sin and everything I don’t deserve. My fingers join my mouth, sliding inside her heat, and she’s so tight, so perfect, clenching around the intrusion.
“More,” she gasps. “Please, more—”
“Greedy.” But I add another finger, curling them to hit that spot inside that makes her cry out. “That’s it. Take what I give you.”
My mouth works her clit while my fingers fuck her mercilessly, and within minutes she’s trembling, on the edge, desperate. But I don’t let her fall. Every time she gets close, I back off, keeping her suspended in that perfect torture.
“Please.” She’s begging now, exactly like I wanted. “Please, I need—I can’t—”
“You can. You will. You’ll come when I tell you to come and not before.” My free hand slides up to grip her throat,not choking, just holding, reminding her who’s in control. “Now, be a good girl and give me what’s mine.”
My fingers curl hard inside her, my thumb replacing my mouth on her clit, and the combination finally pushes her over. She comes with a scream that echoes off the walls, her body bowing off the bed, clenching so hard around my fingers it’s almost painful.
Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.
She’s still shaking when I slide up her body, positioning myself at her entrance. “Look at me. I want to see your eyes when I take you.”
Her gaze meets mine, dazed, satisfied, but still hungry. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me, sir.”
Those three words destroy the last shred of my restraint. I push inside in one hard thrust, and the sensation of her heat, her tightness, her body stretching to accommodate me, Cristo, nothing has ever felt this good.
“Alessandro!” My name tears from her throat.
“Mine.” The word comes out possessive, claiming. “Say it. Tell me you’re mine.”
“Yours. God, I’m yours—”
“Good girl.” My hips start moving, setting a brutal pace that has her gasping with every thrust. “This is what you wanted. What you begged for. My cock inside you, fucking you like you’re mine to use.”
“Yes, please, don’t stop—”
No intention of stopping. Not when she feels this perfect. Not when every sound she makes drives me closer to the edge. Not when her nails are digging into my back hard enough to leave marks that will serve as reminders tomorrow.
“Touch yourself.” The command comes out harsh. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”
Her hand slides between our bodies, finding her clit, and the added sensation makes her clench harder around me. “I’m close, so close—”
“Not yet. Hold it.” My hand finds her throat again, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp. “You come when I tell you. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” The words are broken, desperate. “Please, I can’t hold it much longer—”