Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
ALISON
I f frustration could kill, I would be six feet under!
“How would I have you? Bending over my knee, ass red with my handprint, and your pussy dripping onto my fingers.”
Max left me hanging. My orgasm starting to pulse through me as he pulled his fingers out of my pussy, practically shoving me across the doors to my building.
My underwear was drenched, and for some dumb reason, I was still leaking like a damn open faucet. Sir Shakesalot would have his work cut out if those were my new standards.
His wrath had stirred me into swirls of lust, and I wanted nothing more than to feel it on my skin, just as Max had threatened. His handprint. Those fingers gripping my hair. His thick cock shoved into my mouth.
That crack in his facade had been almost blinding, and I was still shaking by the time I got upstairs to my apartment. But I couldn’t help but wonder what else I could unravel if I just dug deep enough. Was it all lust?
I had never seen him so pissed. Max was always calm, his demeanor hidden behind a placid mask of unfazed expressions. There was only one other time, and he was drunk. Knowing that seeing me with Victor was the trigger had me beaming like I had won the prize of the damn century.
Victor knew we were putting on a show. He was the one who suggested it. But I felt bad using him to get to Max. My rage and jealousy had blinded me, and now, in the calmness of my own space, I was feeling ashamed of myself.
I wasn’t going to allow it to happen again. I would take the opportunity to set the record straight with him on our date on Saturday and apologize for being such an asshole.
Tossing and turning in bed was getting old. I had too many thoughts soiling my brain to shut down. So, instead of mulling on them, I spilled them onto a text.
Thanks to you, punishment is now a sweet temptation.
I didn’t have to wait long for Max to do what Max does. Pull away and shatter whatever glimpse of hope he had shined on me tonight.
Don’t do this, Alison. You made me lose my temper today, and it can’t and won’t happen again.
Why are you pushing me away again?
I knew a reason why he should, but unless Matt had told him, Max was still oblivious to my marriage agreement.
I waited for an answer, but nothing came.
Falling asleep was a mission, especially with Max’s words lingering on my mind and no response to mine. I was still frustrated, but he was the only one who could ease this feeling .
I woke up the next morning to radio silence. Still no reply from Max, and deep inside me, I knew I wouldn’t get one. I still hated the feeling, though.
I had to reset to factory settings. Erase whatever spark he fired in me and start over. Hadn’t I said this a million times already? Why was it so hard with him?
Instead, I had a text from Victor, asking if I had a good night's sleep and confessing he was so wired he kept waking up. I couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness and embarrassing honesty he didn’t even try to hide. But all it did was make me feel worse for not feeling the same.
His last words were, ‘I can’t wait to see you again,’ and I felt just as anxious, just not for the same reasons.
Our date was tomorrow night, and I finally had a free day to do whatever I wanted with hopefully no interruptions. Between watching TV, which I hadn’t done in a while, and pulling out a new book to read, the day was as restful and pleasant as I could remember having.
My building’s super brought up the delivery Vincenzo had spoken about. Inside the glamorous-looking boxes were a beautiful designer dress – an icy white Philipp Plein – a simple diamond necklace, and a handwritten card.
‘A humble present for my beautiful future wife to wear at our engagement party. In two weeks, I will have the pleasure of announcing you as my fianceé to all the people in my life as we toast to a happy marriage. I hope you like it, Nessa. Forever yours, Vincenzo.’
He was so thoughtful I could almost nurture the image of one day forgetting this was all fake and arranged.
In two weeks, I would be introduced to his family, friends, and associates as the future Mrs. Massimo. I tried as hard as I could not to think about it, nerve-wracking as it was. Suffering in anticipation was to suffer twice, so I rationalized it, deciding to cross that bridge when I came to it. I already had too much going on to add this to my plate, too.
With Victor still in the back of my mind, I couldn’t stop thinking about what and how much about my future I should tell him. He deserved to know, but I wasn’t sure the whole thing was up for disclosure already.
I knew Matt still thought that this marriage wouldn’t happen, that he would kill Vincenzo before the year came to an end if he didn’t back out of the agreement. He would fight with every fiber of his being to set me free, but that’s not what will happen. He’d lose his seat for something as stupid as that.
I wasn’t worth the sacrifice.
I gave him my word, and I would follow through. My decision was made, and I had no reason not to.
I was almost ready for Victor to pick me up when I heard someone banging on my front door. Furious fists slamming on wood so hard that if I didn’t answer, I’d see whomever it was knocking the damn thing down just to get in.
“What the hell?” I opened the door, and Max came marching right past me, almost knocking me out of his way. “Come right in, why don’t ya? I’m starting to see a pattern here, Maxy Max.”
I closed the door before turning around to face him.
The blood stains on his ripped clothes were the first thing I noticed, the whiteness of his shirt hardly noticeable under the invading red. His suit jacket was missing, leaving nothing to conceal his two-gun holster that snuggly hugged his torso.
Wait, one gun, the other one is missing.
He had his back to me, but I could see it rising and falling from his rapid breathing. The muscles on his back and arms tensed in pulses under his strained shirt.
Slowly, he turned towards me, his face a mask of rage and fury that sent a shiver down my spine. He stood there immobile, allowing me to see all the cuts and bruises that were just now starting to form on his face. He had an open gash on his forehead, and the blood had dried down the side of his face already.
He looked menacing and broken, but at the same time, so fucking appealing.
Stop, Alison. This is a dead-end road with nothing but deception down its path. Temptation is just blinding you to it.
“What the hell happened? Why are you covered in blood?” I whispered, my hand reaching out to touch him or comfort him, I wasn’t sure which one, but I stopped before I could.
Max stood there staring at me, his face contorted in both pain and disgust.
“Who’s blood is that, Max?” I heard the panic in my own voice, fearing the worst.
In two wide and angry strides, he closed the gap between us, standing as close to me as he could without touching me.
“Don’t play with me, Max. Who’s blood is that?” I demanded.
“Enemies. The good kind. Dead ones.” He simply stated as if it were an unwavering mantra.
His eyes were fixated on me, his head slightly nodding in disapproval as if I was the one with the wrongdoings. Anger wasn’t wrathful enough to describe his state .
I tried to speak to ask him why he was here, what had happened, why he was so angry. But I couldn’t. The words had simply evaporated from my lexicon as he stood there, angrily looking at me, his nose flaring wide at the tic of his clenched jaw, stealing the oxygen around us with heavy breathing.
“What the fuck did you do, Alison?” I was taken aback by his words. He’s the one stomping into my apartment drenched in blood, and he asks what I’ve done?
“WHAT?”
“You heard me. You’re marrying Don Massimo? You actually agreed to marry him?” The look of disgust on his face matched the acidic tone of his voice, which corroded the insides of my chest as soon as they hit my ears.
“Why do you care?” I replied, turning back to step away from him. I couldn’t do this dance anymore. I couldn’t stand to be so close to him. The way he said those words made me feel dirty. As if I was selling my body for a couple of bucks. Nothing more than fucking Roxanne with her red light on, waiting for the next taker.
“Why?” That single word came out pained, “Why the fuck would you accept to marry him?” He grabbed my arm, pulling me back to face him, clamping my jaw in his hand, and forcing me to look into his eyes. “Look at me. I need to see your face when you tell me why.”
“It’s none of your goddamn business, that’s why,” I replied in anger, trying to pull my arm and face away from his grasp, but Max held me tightly in place.
“You can’t do this. You have to break it off.” His fingers bore further into my skin, painfully even. “Tell him that you made a mistake, that you weren’t thinking straight,” Max demanded. He was always calm and cautious, but today, and for the second time in a row, his true colors were out, shining every shade of livid.
“What? No!” I couldn’t believe my ears. Why the hell was he so upset about this arrangement? He was the one pushing me back every chance he got. “I might not be one of the boys, and I didn’t take any oath, but I don’t need any of that shit to bind me to my honor. I gave him my word, and there’s no way I am taking it back. Don’t you dare come into my house telling me what to do.”
“Fuck honor! You have to break it off. You can’t marry him, Alison.”
“Give me one reason, Max,” I demanded, my eyes boring into his glacial glare, daring him to be honest, daring him to tell me what he knew.
“I CAN’T, GODDAMN IT!” Max shouted, releasing me and stepping away, both of his hands knotting in his hair, displaying the conflict and distress running through him. “You have to trust me. This is a bad move. You should never have been involved in any of this.”
“Are you blind? I already am. I’m a fucking Battaglia, I’ve always been in the middle of this.”
“No, you haven’t.” He replied in a smooth voice, coming closer again, taking my face in his hands. “You could stay clear, stay away. It’s not safe, Alison.” He was using all the weapons he had, but this fight required feathers, not guns.
“You work for Matt. Your job is to keep him safe, not me. I’ll figure out my life on my own.” My chest was heaving, both in rage and adrenaline from this closeness that never failed to make me falter.
“I’ll always fight to keep you safe. No matter the consequences.” He said barely over a whisper, a confession that shouldn’t be made, the fucking feather knocking me right to the ground, defenseless .
He stared back into my eyes, my soul and words frozen silent by his. His statement had stolen any reply or remark I could think of to throw back at him. What was he even saying?
I could feel myself gravitating toward him again. My lips burned with a need to have his. I saw the war that was raging inside of him, two parts of him pulling in opposite directions. He wanted to kiss me, too, but knew he couldn’t.
“Kiss me,” I whispered, almost in a plea. My stomach fluttered to the beat of a thousand butterfly wings as my knees almost gave out once those words left my mouth without permission. Had I really just said that out loud?
“I shouldn’t.” He whispered back. I pulled away from him, turning to hide the embarrassment of yet another rejection. When would I learn? How could that hurt so much? There’s only one explanation for the burning agony I felt, and I didn’t… no, I couldn’t accept it to be true.
I didn’t love Max.
I felt the sting of tears threatening to expose me as I fiercely tried to fight them back, a huge lump forming in my throat, blocking it until the first tear finally fell.
Max grabbed my arm again, stopping me from walking further away, stepping closer instead of pulling me back. I could feel the heat of his body a mere inch away from mine.
This time, he let his hand shimmer softly down my skin until it landed in mine, his controlled breaths fanning the side of my face as his fingers laced with mine.
“I said I shouldn’t , not that I wouldn’t.”
He placed a kiss on the back of my head, his hand now sliding across my stomach, reaching the other side and squeezing my hip to turn me around. I could see his breath hitching as he saw the astray tear, even though he tried to hide it. His bruised hand reached up to wipe it away before he tucked his fingers in the nape of my neck, pulling me towards him.
Close. So dangerously close that nothing could fit between us.
“You shouldn’t.” I finally agreed, an inch away from his lips.
“I shouldn’t,” Max said, his lips already brushing against mine as he spoke. “Fuck honor.”
His mouth finally took mine in a fervent kiss that turned my world upside down. A destroying tornado would have done less damage than what his kisses did.
His tongue fit so perfectly with mine, I was sure they were destined to go together. There was both sweetness and urgency spilling from his lips. Affection and pure lust. Adoration and complete dominance.
The hell we were both raging within ourselves froze completely over, our demons bowing before the sacredness of our touch.
I opened my eyes for a split second and saw the pain and sorrow that furrowed his brow like this was all too much for him to handle. The sheer sight of his pained expression was like a punch to my gut, making me pull away from his kiss.
Max’s hands held me firmly in place while his tongue demanded more of me.
Total delivery. Total submission.
I could feel there was no way he was allowing me to break this enchanted moment.
He backed me up against the door, cushioning my head upon impact but letting my body take the blow. He kissed me even more fiercely, like a starving man having his favorite meal. His kiss alone was enough to turn me on like a million fucking light bulbs while the tips of his fingers ravenously sunk into every piece of me. They weren’t frantically driven by lust. They were different.
Slow.
Hard.
Controlled.
Demanding.
“Don’t marry him,” He almost pleaded before kissing my mouth shut, as if he knew what my reply would be but didn’t want to hear it.
My body was covered in goosebumps, my nipples painfully hard and eager to get attention. I pushed forward, my body grinding against his, searching for more contact that could ease the fire burning all over my skin.
Max traced his thumb along my jaw before bringing it up to caress my bottom lip right in the middle of our kiss, dipping it into my mouth before sliding down my chin towards my neck.
His whole hand was now wrapped around my throat, tightening just a little as our kiss got harsher and hungrier. His mouth covered mine with undeniable desire as his lips expertly dominated mine. My mind was blank, as was the world. Only the two of us existed, the rest was nothing but a blurred smudge.
I lifted my hand, resting it on his hard chest, the tips of my fingers mapping his muscles beneath my touch. This man was a walking contradiction. He was always here but always out of reach, so having him under my grasp was messing with my mind almost as much as he was messing with my body. A perfect combination inducing me into lustful bliss.
Max’s other hand was now slowly sliding down my body, feeling every inch of me with just the slick satin of my dress between us. He reached the edge of the fabric, his fingers now feeling the warmth of my flesh as he pulled my leg up to hook around him. He never stopped kissing me, but still, I needed more.
“Take it off,” I murmured into his mouth. It was like I had pushed a button. Apparently, a very right button.
Max placed his hands on my ass and picked me up, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, the greed of his kisses multiplying tenfold.
I could feel his hard cock pressing against my pussy as he carried me over to the couch. I couldn’t help but press back, wanting to feel more, harder, and deeper.
He laid me down on my velvet couch, spreading my legs so he could fit between them, breaking our kiss for the first time.
“We can’t,” He said, shutting his eyes tightly. He was convincing himself of what he was saying, not me. A private pep talk to whatever demon he was fighting against.
“We shouldn’t,” I corrected, placing my hand on his face to make him look at me so he could see how much he made me feel. How much I wanted all the fucking social, personal, Mafiosi conventions to fly out the fucking window.
Just as he had said – fuck honor.
“We definitely shouldn’t,” He agreed, kissing me harshly again while pushing his very hard cock into my very willing pussy.
He pulled his waist back, and I felt his hand grazing the inside of my thigh. Just that promising touch pulled a moan from my chest, which seemed to fuel Max’s lust. He hooked his fingers on my underwear and pulled on it hard enough to have it ripped off my body.
Fuck , if I wasn’t horny by now, he had just turned dust to fucking raging flames.
We were in such a deep haze that, it was only after a few times that I heard it. The doorbell was ringing, and someone was knocking on my door and calling my name.
“Fuck! Victor!”
“WHAT?” Max exclaimed, pulling back.
“The door…” I managed to pant. “Victor’s at the door.”
Max stood up abruptly, all that anger storming back tenfold while he composed himself as I did. I saw him concealing my shredded thong in his big hand before I finally looked up at him, taking in his dark and enraged expression.
The soft Max I saw a moment ago was all gone by now. The blood on his clothes was all the more evident now as it perfectly matched his persona.
“You’re going on a date?” He asked in what I couldn’t figure was either a disgusted tone or just plain reproval. “That’s why you are all dolled up.”
“You make it seem as if it’s a crime.”
“Maybe in my book…”
“Tell me, what do you want from me, Max? You don’t want me, but I can’t have anyone else, either?”
“I want you to break off the marriage agreement.” His tone was back to cold and demanding.
“Give me a reason, Max. One good enough reason, and I’ll break all of it off, the marriage and the date.” I handed the ball over to his court. It was his game now. He hesitated for just a moment before landing the blow that kicked me to my ass.
The doorbell rang again.
“You should answer the door.” His voice was cold and calculating.
I stood there looking at him for a couple of seconds in disbelief, a searing pain running through my veins and settling in my chest. But this time, rage was much more fitting and easier than to give in to the rest I was feeling. Somehow, these moments, these kisses with Max seemed more than desire, more than plain arousal. And every time he turned his back on me again, it hurt deeper.
I turned and opened the door, giving way for Victor to come in.
He placed a consuming kiss on my bruised lips before entering completely.
“Victor, you know Max,” I said in the most unaffected tone I could, gladly not letting it falter. “He’s just leaving.”
“Yes, I am,” He said, ignoring Victor’s outstretched hand. He walked towards the door as I held it open, waiting for him to cross the threshold so I could slam it in his face.
Max stopped right in front of me, a wicked grin on his face as he probably thought about his words before he said them.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Francesca was kidnapped two days ago. We got her back, but she’s in the hospital. You should probably call your brother.” He reached for my hand, pulled it up to his lips, and placed what seemed like an innocent kiss on my skin, taking the chance to hide my shredded thong in my palm. A small reminder of what we had just done. “Have a nice date , Miss Battaglia.”