20. Aurora
Chapter 20
Aurora
M y pencil glides with ease over the thick paper in the pad resting on my knees. I’ve been sitting in the window alcove of Romeo’s room since I woke up alone this morning.
Disappointment churned in my gut when I tested the door and found it locked. I don’t know why I felt like this but it shouldn’t have been there. After all, nothing has changed between us for him to give me free rein to walk around the house.
The sun’s setting now, pinks and purples filling the sky in a beautiful swathe of color. Aside from my clothes arriving this morning and two meals being delivered, I’ve been undisturbed.
I finished my search of Romeo's closet after lunch. Using the cover of putting my clothes away, I changed into a white T-shirt and navy jeans before digging around. There were no electronics or anything I can use as weapons—unless you count ties and belts, but they’d be no match for a gun. I was hoping that I’d get to leave the room for dinner and be able to scope out the rest of the house, but with each minute that passes, that idea seems less likely.
All of which means I’ve had zero opportunities to find a way out, so I’ve lost myself in the images that play out behind my eyelids. They come to life on the page, a familiarity to them that feels like home.
Pages of the same drawing are scattered around me. Determination fuels my movements as I try to see more. It’s been hours, but I can’t get past the roses and gray fountain that takes up pride of place among them.
The sketches are from memory, but I don’t remember ever having seen anything like this place before. The grandeur is romantic, yet there’s something cold and deathly about it in the dark shadows as my pencil flies across the page.
Exasperated, I rip another sheet out, throwing it to the floor. It hasn’t even hit the ground before my pencil is back on the paper, moving with an urgency that flows through my veins.
When the tip of my pencil snaps, I exhale heavily, lifting my head to look out the window and roll my neck. A flock of blackbirds scatter from the trees in the distance, the sound of them crying out muffled by the glass. They disappear back into the trees and I look away at the made bed.
Last night, when I returned from the shower, Romeo announced that we’d be sharing the bed going forward. A jolt of pleasure ran through my body, quickly followed by a flare of panic. There is no denying he’s an attractive man, but the more time I’m spending in his company—technically bed—the more difficult it’s becoming to separate the fact that he's a cold-blooded killer. And I’ll be his next victim .
Heaving out a sigh, I shake my head and lay my pad on the bench in front of me. I need to come at this with a different approach. Clearly, going along with whatever he dictates isn’t working anymore. If anything, I’m more likely to end up chained to his bed, satisfying his needs if I don’t fight for my freedom.
Determined, I stand and walk to the tray on the small table next to the armchair. I’m going to demand answers to my burning questions, like how long does he intend to keep me. It’s been over a week and nothing has happened. I don’t know if they’re any closer to finding my father. The gala isn’t for another week, so when do I become redundant? I’m reaching for the pencil sharpener, my frustration bubbling beneath the surface, when the door swings open. I ignore whoever has entered, expecting it to be the housekeeper bringing dinner, before I realize there was no knock.
Adrenaline rushes through my body, my tongue darts out to swipe over my suddenly dry lips, and I hold my breath. Slowly, I turn, only releasing my breath when I catch Romeo’s back walking into the bathroom before he kicks the door closed behind him. My wide eyes dart over to the open bedroom door.
This is my chance .
And yet I don’t move. Now that the opportunity has presented itself, I don’t think I’m ready. Inhaling sharply, I swipe my hands down my thighs, my breath leaves me in a rush and I force one foot in front of the other.
One step.
Two.
Three.
Four .
Steam envelops me when I push open the bathroom door. Water hitting the tile echoes around the room and although I can hardly see him through the misted glass, in my mind, his image is crystal clear. I see the water run over every toned inch of his body, leaving behind a glistening trail.
Rolling my lips together, I fold my arms over my chest, ignoring the way my pussy clenches when they graze my sensitive nipples. “I want to know what you plan on doing with me.” The demand is clear in my tone and the words come out surprisingly strong, betraying none of the desire that’s assaulting my body.
A large hand swipes the condensation from the glass that separates us. Sharp eyes meet mine, dropping down my body and setting me alight. I bite my tongue, digging my nails into my bare arms. How does he do that with just one look?
There’s a hint of teasing in his tone when he says, “You’re going to have to be clearer than that, bellissima .”
Of their own accord, my eyes track the movement of his hand when he coasts it down his tattooed chest, getting lower and lower until it disappears from sight. The misted glass blocks my view, and that annoys me, nearly as much as him misinterpreting me.
Heat engulfs me and I drop my arms, moving toward the glass. His eyes get heavy and I add an extra sway to my step as I get closer. My eyes flit down to where his large hand is wrapped around his hardening cock. Keeping my face neutral, I lift my chin and spit, “Let’s get one thing straight, Mr. Bianchi . The only way that”—my eyes flit down one last time and I inject as much venom into my tone as I can muster—“is going anywhere near me, is if I’m dead or unconscious. If you aren’t going to put me out of my misery soon, then just fucking tell me and I’ll do it myself.”
No, you won’t.
Romeo turns off the shower, stepping out of the cubicle and wrapping a towel around his waist. My body follows him, and as he crowds me in, I tilt my head back to hold his stare, forcing myself to stand taller. My back hits the glass of the shower wall with a dull thud.
He bends his knees, his face inches from mine as he brings his hands up to rest on either side of my head. A calmness fills his features but it does nothing to hide the heat in his gaze. There’s such an intensity swirling in the inky blue depths that every fiber of my being comes alive at once. I hate that he can turn me on with his proximity. There has to be something wrong with me. Why else would I want a man like him?
His hand drops to rest on the skin exposed by my V-neck T-shirt. I pray he can’t feel the pounding of my heart. A confident smirk lifts the corner of his mouth. He drops even closer, resting on his forearm as his hand moves to my throat. Applying a light pressure, he forces my head back.
“The blush of arousal on your chest tells me differently, Aurora. I guarantee if I dip my fingers into your panties, I’d find you soaking wet.” His thumb swipes over my bottom lip and my gasp echoes around the room. He chuckles darkly, before continuing, “As for putting you out of your misery, why would I do that when there’s so much more fun to be had?” He bares his teeth in a dangerous grin, tightening his hold on my neck a fraction before winking and releasing me.
The tension eases out of my body the moment he steps away and I sag against the cool, damp glass. It takes me a moment to organize my thoughts and rid myself of the inappropriate feelings that have taken root in my core. A different kind of heat flushes through my body, and the anger I should have held on to when I walked into this room returns.
In the reflection of the mirror, as it clears, I see him behind the door, crossing the threshold to the bedroom. I’m moving forward, launching myself at his back before I can think twice about what I’m doing. My legs latch on to his waist and I wrap one arm around his throat, grabbing my wrist with the other, applying as much pressure as I can.
This is a stupid idea .
No, it isn’t.
This is plan B. Or maybe C. Fuck it . It doesn’t have to be a plan anything , this is just me trying to get a reaction out of him. Forcing him to do something . Maybe if he shows me the mafia boss that I know he is, then this attraction I feel for him will disappear.
Taken by surprise, Romeo stumbles forward before righting himself. My arm aches, as I apply more pressure. How long does it take to strangle somebody? It’s like being on a ride at the circus as he swings us around the room. Am I doing this right? He should be getting weaker, at least that’s how it looks in the movies. Focusing back on my task, I don’t realize where he’s moved us until my back and head hit the wall with force. My grip loosens a fraction from the jolt, but it’s enough for him to rip my arms away and throw me over his shoulder onto the bed.
I bounce a couple of times and my chest rises and falls in a rapid rhythm as I catch my breath. In the distance, I can hear a motor running somewhere in the garden. I expect Romeo to be on me, his hands wrapping around my throat, getting his revenge for my little attack, but there’s nothing. Craning my neck, I look back at him from where he stands at the side of the bed above my head. His towel is gone and his cock juts out, hard and weeping.
I lick my lips, wide eyes meeting his. There’s a dangerous glint in his, and it fills me with an excitement that has my entire body vibrating. It’s an electrifying feeling of the unknown.
Romeo prowls closer, his cock close enough for me to see the bead of pre-cum on his tip as he growls, “I’ve killed men for less, bellissima .”
Focus, Aurora .
I close my eyes, my limbs loosening as I relax back into the mattress. I’m ready . I have been for a while. Large hands grab under my arms and I’m yanked until my head is on the edge of the bed. My eyes dart open and my fingers clutch onto the sheet, curious more than anything as to how he’s going to kill me.
His thumb presses onto my chin, forcing my mouth open before he continues, “The thing that stops me when it comes to killing you, Aurora, is that look of utter peacefulness you get on your face. Knowing how much you want the end to come only makes me want to withhold it from you.”
My questioning gaze meets his heated ink-blue eyes. This isn’t something he can edge me with. God, I’ve just attacked him. He should want me dead just as much as I want him to die .
Do I really want him dead?
The simple answer is no, but not because I care for him. I just want my freedom , whether that comes from death or being able to walk out of this house. Whatever happens to Romeo Bianchi is of no consequence to me. Or at least that’s what I tell myself despite the tug in my heart telling me differently.
His cock bobs above my face and my eyes greedily take in every detail. It would be so easy to open up and take him into my mouth. To get lost in him and distract myself from the circumstances I find myself in.
“Just do it.” The words are nothing more than a croak. I don’t know what exactly it is I want him to do, but I pray he understands either way.
He pulls my jaw down, pushing his thumb inside. Automatically, my lips clamp around it, and I suck, flicking my tongue back and forth over the tip. This is wrong . When he pulls free, a pop reverberates around the room and he smears my saliva over my mouth before forcing two fingers back inside. They hit the back of my throat and I gag before he eases up and I greedily bob my head on them. I shouldn’t be so turned on by him or pliant to his command. And yet, I find myself willing.
Romeo's voice is hoarse when he commands, “Hang your head off the bed.”
Without thinking, I do it. My movements hurried as I scoot toward the edge of the bed. He takes a step back, fisting his cock in one hand and holding the base with the other. When I’m in position, he moves forward, slipping the tip of his cock into my mouth with a hiss falling from his lips. Maybe I’m not the only one overcome with lust. The salty taste of him is mouthwatering.
Much like when he filled my mouth with his fingers, he thrusts forward, hitting the back of my throat. I choke on his length, saliva spurting from the corners of my mouth. My hands reach up, holding onto his thighs, not sure if I’m trying to push him away or pull him deeper.
My body wriggles with the need for some sort of friction. Romeo takes hold of the hem of my T-shirt. He rips it from hem to collar with a force that I’m choosing to take as speaking volumes of his desire for me. Once I’m exposed to him, his large hands massage my breasts while I moan around his cock.
He pulls out of my mouth, straightening, and I follow him, sucking a tight ball into my mouth. Swirling my tongue around it, I release it with a pop before moving to the next. Romeo takes hold of my wrist when I reach for his cock. He shakes his head when I lift my disappointed gaze to his face in question.
“Take the jeans off, Aurora.”
He releases me, and I immediately get to work on unbuttoning my jeans. An amused chuckle falls from his lips, but I don’t let it deter me. The need to be naked and have my body touched by him outweighs any thought that he might be trying to humiliate me. My movements are hurried and desperate as I push my jeans and underwear down my legs, kicking them to the floor on the other side of the bed.
Shifting onto my knees, I crawl toward him, taking his cock in my hand. My fingers don’t touch as I wrap them around his thick length. His hands fist by his side when I push his cock up toward his flat stomach and flatten my tongue on the underside, running it up his length as I stare up at him from under my lashes.
When I reach the head, I close my lips around him and he groans, grabbing fistfuls of my hair. My cheeks hollow when I suck as he sets the pace with gentle thrusts of his hips. I can tell he’s trying to hold back and saliva pools in my mouth, dribbling down my chin at the thought that I’m testing his control. Slowly, I move my hand between my legs; the heat emanating from my pussy almost scorching. Wetness coats my fingers almost immediately as I glide them over my clit. The bundle of nerves sensitive to my touch.
“That’s it. You’re taking me so well.”
Romeo thrusts and my eyes water, a single droplet running down my cheek and mixing with the saliva on my chin. I know I won’t feel the same later, but right now, I want to feel him stretching the walls of my pussy. Even though there’s a hunger inside of me that can’t bear to drag my mouth away from his cock. He’s on the verge of losing control, each thrust becoming more erratic as he slides further and further down my throat.
Suddenly he takes a step back, fisting his cock. I whimper at the loss and push up, ready to crawl to him. He’s too far away for me to touch him, but we stare at each other, our chests rising and falling in tandem.
His eyes are dark, the pupils blown wide with arousal. “On your back. Ass on the edge of the bed,” he orders.
My body heats, humming with desire, and I swallow thickly before swinging my legs over the bed and lying back, desperate for his touch. When he wraps his fingers around my ankles, lifting my legs to rest against his shoulder, my body quivers in anticipation.
The head of his cock edges my entrance and I push my hips down, trying to urge him inside. He holds steady, and when he isn’t forthcoming, I lift my eyes to his, a question in the depths. His jaw is tight and there’s a look of what appears to be dominance shining in his dark blue eyes.
Gripping the bedsheet, I moan when he finally slams forward, stretching me and filling the void I didn’t know was there. My breasts bounce from the force, knocking the air out of my lungs as I try to not combust.
I stretch around him in the most delicious possible way. Like I was made for him . Closing my eyes, I brush away the intrusive thought and instead concentrate on the feel of him, focusing on the cocktail of pain and pleasure that comes with his thickness filling me.
Romeo holds still for so long that my eyes dart open, searching his. He tightens his hold on my legs, a muscle in his jaw working beneath the surface. His mouth parts slightly, drawing my attention, and I’m overcome with an urge to feel his lips on mine.
Blinking, I whisper, breathlessly, “Rome. Please, move.”
I’ve barely finished the sentence when he pulls out until only his head is filling me. I bite my lip, a stinging burning my eyes at the loss of him. Forcibly, he thrusts forward, his skin slapping against mine. I cry out, uncaring of who may hear. My fingers dig into the cotton sheets, anchoring my body to the bed as he pounds into me.
His pace increases, the time between each thrust getting shorter and shorter until his hips work in jerky, feral movements. Pleasure pools in the pit of my stomach, building until I feel like I can’t take anymore. He stokes the fire inside of me until my body erupts and I convulse around him. My moans fill the room, mixing with his grunts as he chases his release. Little black dots appear in my vision and the air leaves my lungs in a rush.
Romeo stills, spilling inside of me and my pussy clenches around him, milking his cock for every last drop. Our eyes lock when he pulls out, a mask coming down over his face, hiding his emotions from me. A blanket of regret falls over me and I wrap my arms around my waist, turning my head to stare at the pillows.
A wetness pools at my entrance and panic claws at my throat. My legs fall to the side of him and I sit up, staring down at my pussy as cum spills from me. Disbelieving, I admonish, “You fucking came inside of me, again .”
He growls, dropping to his knees and pushing my legs up and onto my chest. His voice is gruff when he orders, “Push it out, bellissima . Push my cum out of your pretty little cunt.”
I blink, confused until he runs his finger between my folds, and a moan tumbles from my lips. Instinctively, I do as he demands and push his cum out of me. His tongue is there waiting, swiping over my entrance as the cocktail of our release slides free.
This might be the hottest and dirtiest thing I’ve ever experienced.
And I want more of it .
Romeo feasts on me, swiping our cum and spitting it back onto my pussy. I’m so turned on watching him. This powerful man, cleaning me up and then dirtying me again. Unintelligible words fall from my lips and a familiar tightening forms in my core. I can’t stifle my screams as I enter euphoria, feeling everything and nothing as I come undone.
He stares at me, a heated darkness in his eyes before he stands, holding his hand out for me. “Let’s get you showered or we’ll be late for dinner.”
I’m not sure I can move, let alone face other people. In a haze of post-orgasmic bliss, I slip my hand into his, falling into his chest as he pulls me up. He wraps an arm around my waist before dropping a fleeting kiss onto my lips that feels almost... intimate.
So much for staying clear of him and finding a way out of here.