Chapter 3 #2
Bringing her to a climax had never been a part of it.
Sure, bringing Gabriella to multiple orgasms had featured heavily in all the fantasies that had sustained him these past four years, but that had been before he’d learned she was a treacherous rat.
Now, her body was for his sole pleasure. Not hers.
He snatched up her discarded dress and hauled himself to his feet. Tossing the dress on her lap, he curtly said, “Cover yourself up.”
Unable to look at her, he crossed the room and poured himself another whisky.
He didn’t think there was enough alcohol in the world to fully loosen the knots that had such a tight grip on him or douse the rancid churn in his guts.
He necked the drink and poured himself another.
Downed that one too. He took the third more slowly, closing his eyes as its warmth trickled down his throat.
When he could finally bring himself to look at her, she was hunched over on the armchair.
She’d put her dress back on without rebuttoning it, instead hugging it close around her.
Her long chestnut hair covered much of her face, her gaze fixed on a spot on the floor.
Humiliated shame radiated off her in waves.
It was seeing her shame that finally loosened the knots and killed the churn.
Gabriella hated him so much that she’d rather endure his physical attention than suffer the shame of enjoying it.
He laughed, the sound making her lift her head and dart her gaze to him.
The moment their stares connected, a hot blush stained her neck and cheeks.
Punishment by pleasure. How delicious. He could demean and cheapen her all he wanted, and she would be doubly punished, betrayed by her own body.
He downed the last of his drink and smacked his lips as he placed the empty glass on the bar. “Time for bed.”
At the door, he turned back to her. She hadn’t moved from the armchair. “I said it’s time for bed. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”
She got unsteadily to her feet, holding her dress tight around her. “You didn’t say you wanted me to come to bed with you,” she whispered.
“Ground rule two. Unless you’re told otherwise, where I go, you go. When I sleep, you sleep, and you sleep with me.”
Still not looking at him, her shoulders rose as if she were drawing in a long breath, and then she walked towards him.
He left the room, leaving her to follow him.
Her underwear stuffed in the pocket of her shirtdress, Gabriella tentatively crossed the threshold. If she didn’t already feel sick enough to vomit, one look at Tommaso’s bedroom would have brought her there.
This was no room designed for sleep. With the charcoal walls hung with mirrors and erotic artwork, and a mirrored ceiling, it was designed for having sex in.
She’d never seen a bed so big or realised black silk bedsheets really were a thing.
Her stomach turned over as she wondered how many women had shared it with him over the years.
How many women had shared it with him in one go. ..?
Her stomach dropped to her feet as it suddenly occurred to her that he might expect her to share this bed with him and others, and she covered her mouth to stop the bile of panic that shot up her throat from exploding out of her. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t.
“Let’s take a shower,” he said, removing his watch and placing it on a bedside table next to a huge box of condoms. In case his meaning wasn’t clear, he caught her stare and, his fingers going to the buttons of his shirt, added, “Together.”
Deftly removing his shirt, he unbuttoned his trousers and, with breathtaking nonchalance, pulled them down with his underwear. Breathtaking because to see him naked took Gabriella’s breath away.
She’d known Tommaso had a good body, would have had to be blind not to recognise that he took good care of himself, but other than in those horrendous dreams she’d had of him over the years, hadn’t allowed herself to imagine it since she was sixteen and her dying mother had confided the truth about her father’s death.
That had been the day Gabriella’s love for the Espositos had twisted into hate.
The day her adolescent fantasies about Tommaso Esposito had died.
That she’d never been able to shake her attraction for Tommaso was something she’d spent nine years despising herself for. To look at him was to make her pulses quicken. To see him with another woman was to make hot sickness roil. To see him now, fully naked…
When they’d been in Accardiano for Siena’s wedding, she’d often seen him hanging around the pool in his swim shorts and had always ripped her stare away before any of his semi-nakedness came into focus. She’d been right to do that and only wished she could blur him out now.
His body was better than good. Deeply tanned and muscular, he had a body the Gods would envy. The whispers about him hadn’t been exaggerated, and to her horror, a pulse set off between her legs, a stirring in her veins that danced into her skin, making every part of her tingle.
Her mouth suddenly dry, Gabriella licked her lips, painfully aware her neck was on fire and even more painfully aware that he could see it. “I need to use the toilet,” she croaked.
His eyes narrowed slightly as if he were debating whether or not to allow it before he nodded at a door. “Go ahead.”
She nearly said thank you.
Opening the indicated door, she found herself entering a large, decadent room with the same sensuous colour theme as the bedroom.
She was closing the door behind her when his impossibly deep, impossibly gravelly voice called out, “Keep it unlocked.”
Thanking God for the small mercy of being allowed to at least close the bathroom door, she rested her back against it and closed her eyes, taking a moment to try and just breathe.
The magnitude of what her future held pounded through her as clear as the mirrors of the sexual lair Tommaso called his bedroom and with the same strength as the thumping of her heart.
She wasn’t just Tommaso’s toy, she was his prisoner. The monster of her dreams was now her gaoler, the controller of her life.
In less than a day, he’d imposed his will on her so successfully that she was grateful for the mercy of being allowed to close a bathroom door.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the gun aimed directly at her face.
Saw, too, the wildness in his black stare.
That he’d been able to bring her to a climax…
What was wrong with her? Tommaso was a monster with the face and body of a God, but still a monster.
That she’d melted for him… She would never forgive herself for that.
Or forgive herself that she didn’t know if excitement or terror were the predominant feelings coursing through her now.
Very soon, she’d be stepping into the walk-in shower directly in her eyeline with the waterfall head designed to pour over two people.
To the side of it, a sunken bath that could accommodate even more people.
She turned her stare away from it, not wanting to imagine him demanding she share that with him, too.
What a fool she’d been to open her mouth and confide in Niccolo. She should never have taken such a risk.
Gabriella had been drinking when she’d confided in him.
The trip to Accardiano for his and Siena’s wedding had been only days away.
It was a trip she’d been dreading with every fibre of her being.
She would be stuck in the same hotel as the Espositos for six days with no hope of escape.
Six days spent pretending to be thrilled at her role as Siena’s bridesmaid.
Six days of guilt that she had to pretend.
Six days of being unable to escape Tommaso.
It was the Tommaso aspect she’d dreaded the most. Six days of his incessant company. All the meals. All the social events. All the forced fun that everyone was expected to participate in. All of that, unable to escape Tommaso’s gorgeous face and arrogant, hateful personality.
Gabriella rarely drank, but that evening, days before the trip, Siena had dragged her out for a poker night at one of Rico’s casinos with the other Esposito siblings.
Tommaso had turned up with his latest lover.
That lover hadn’t wanted to play, had wanted only to paw at him, which he’d been happy to oblige.
It hadn’t stopped his black, sensuous stare continually falling on Gabriella.
It had sickened her. More shamefully, it had thrilled her.
She’d deliberately lost her money after three hands and left the table, moving to the bar where she ordered a bottle of rum and settled herself on a table to watch the game from a distance and pretend not to watch Tommaso.
Ten minutes later, Niccolo, having lost all his money too, had joined her.
Twenty minutes after that, they’d drunk over half the bottle.
It was the first time they’d spent time alone together, and if she hadn’t been feeling so tipsy, she would never have looked at him through narrowed eyes and said, “Do you actually like any of them?”
People either loved or hated the Espositos.
No one straddled the divide. You were either in or you were out, and if you were in, you committed with your life.
Gabriella had been born into it, still a small child when Lorenzo had begun his manoeuvres to turn the empire he’d built on other people’s blood into a legitimate business.
On the face of it, he’d been wildly successful, his past mostly memory-holed by the public who’d adored him for his cuddly charm, but behind the scenes, the thug who’d turned himself from a lowlife drug dealer into one of the richest men in Italy still carried the stench of his past and had no intention of washing it off.
Niccolo had been the first person she’d met since her mother’s death that she’d sensed a kindred spirit in. His love and respect for the Espositos, she’d become increasingly certain, had been as fake as her own.
His answering smile had been more of a grimace, and then he’d looked at her through narrowed eyes. “Do you?”
She’d laughed, loudly enough that Tommaso had looked up from his cards and openly stared at her with that hateful knowing smile on his lips.
Barely understanding why she hadn’t positioned her back to him, she’d flipped him the bird and turned her attention back to her new drinking partner.
Smiling widely, she’d uttered words that had never before passed her lips. “I despise them.”
Niccolo had considered this before his face creased into an identical smile and he raised his glass. “Lorenzo’s fucked me over.”
She’d clinked her glass to his. “I thought as much. And one day I’m going to fuck him over.”
He’d raised an eyebrow. “Before the wedding?”
Still smiling, she’d downed her neat rum and shaken her head.
“Not until I’ve got enough evidence to put him away for life.
” She’d wiped the back of her mouth and, as she poured them both another shot, laughed even harder.
“I’m going to put them all away, every last one of them.
I’m going to destroy the whole rotting edifice. ”
Eyes sparkling with warning, he’d raised his refilled glass. “You’ll be careful? These people are dangerous.”
“Trust me, no one knows better than me how ruthless they are.”
Gabriella’s father had paid the price for the Espositos’ ruthlessness, and still she’d opened her big mouth and confided in Niccolo.
Her only excuse was that the nine years since her mother’s death had been exceptionally lonely.
She’d thought of the Espositos as her family, had taken comfort while her mother lay dying that she wouldn’t be alone in the world because she would have them.
But then her mother had told her the truth, and any sense of family had been ripped away.
She flushed the toilet.
An instant later, the bathroom door opened, and the monster now in full control of her life walked in.