Chapter 42
Elena
“Maximo!” I call as soon as I enter the foyer. He’s working from home today, so unless he was called away for some reason, he should be here. He appears at the top of the stairs, looking much too handsome in that dark Armani suit.
“Yes, bella?”
I set my purse on the entry table. “I’m missing something.
” Kicking off my heels, I frown in thought.
“Mrs. Rizzo seemed delighted to see me today. Which is strange, but not as strange as two other things.” I tick them off on my fingers.
“One, why haven’t you questioned her? And two, why did you let me off easy when I confessed to backstabbing you like that? ”
His brow quirks. “Did I let you off easy?”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. We both know his punishment was nowhere near as brutal as it could have been—if he took my betrayal seriously.
“Why aren’t you getting answers from her?” I insist. “She tried to kill you. Didn’t she?” Or am I missing something?
He jogs down the floating stairs. Coming to stop in front of me, his lips drop to mine for a single toe curling kiss. “Portia Rizzo is not our enemy.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because she’s my mother’s best friend. They went to school together, they’re as close as sisters.”
“What? But—” My mind races to make sense of this new information. She’s his mother's best friend. He never really thought of her as a potential threat. Then why would Mrs. Rizzo play this kind of dangerous game? Unless his mother and Mrs. Rizzo thought I…
A second later realization dawns. I scoff. “She did it to test me?”
Maximo nods. “It’s just like her to pull something like that. I’ve known Portia my whole life, and she loves to meddle. Plus, I’m her favorite of my mother’s children. She’d never let me marry someone she didn’t think was good enough for me. I had a sneaking suspicion that’s what she was up to.”
“B-but,” I sputter, “I failed! Miserably. She must think I’m the worst wife possible because of what I did to you.”
He chuckles like it’s no big deal. “She did admit there was a time when she considered sealing your body in a barrel and putting it out to sea. But then—”
“Wait. What? When did you talk with her about this?”
“Just got off the phone with her. She called to congratulate us, and to assure me that she deleted all the information you sent to her.”
I cringe. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this.”
“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy to know it’s all over.” He follows me into the living room where I sink onto the sofa.
I could die from embarrassment. “Do you know what I did today? I walked right up to her table and threatened her.”
That gets a belly laugh out of him. His arms loop around my waist, pulling me into his lap. “Did you? What did you tell her?” His deep voice rumbles against my ear.
“I told her to stay away from me and my husband.” I shake my head at myself. So embarrassing.
“Mm. Feeling protective of me, cara mia?” His nose sweeps along my neck. “You’re my heroine.”
“I feel like an idiot.”
“Don’t. You’re no fool. I swear Portia’s a demoness.
She’s excellent at reading people and finding their weakness, then using it against them.
Don’t feel sorry for yourself.” He sighs.
“I’m glad to have ruled her out. But that means whoever’s sabotaging us—and trying to kill us—is still out there.
I’d feel better if I knew you could protect yourself. ”
I glance up at him. “What do you mean?”
“Come with me.”
“If someone comes at you from the front, you have a few options on how to strike them.” Maximo’s dressed down to slacks and a T-shirt, the cotton fabric clings to his broad chest and biceps. I try not to drool.
Frontal attack. Right. Focus.
“Okay,” I say, waiting for him to continue the lesson.
We’re beneath the garage level, standing in an expansive gym. This is where he must disappear to when he works out. I didn’t know the place was down here until just now.
Instead of changing into workout clothes, Maximo insisted we do this in our regular daily outfits. Something about realistic limitations. So I’m standing in my dress and heels while he gives his lecture.
“Eyes, throat, or groin. Those are the only three regions you need to memorize for a frontal attack. Whichever one you choose, put your all behind that hit because it might be the only one you land. Then you run like hell.” His gaze drops to my stilettos.
“I can take them off and run. Not like I haven’t done that before.” My tone holds undeniable sarcasm.
His aqua eyes find mine, a smirk touches his lips. “Yes, yes you have. I’ll be the first to admit you’re a damn fast runner, especially barefoot.”
I giggle. When did we go from me sprinting from our wedding to joking about it?
“Now, if you’re attacked from the back, you don’t have as many options. However, this is where those shoes might come in handy. You want to stomp down on top of your attacker’s foot. Hard.”
I nod, taking in the lesson.
Without warning, Maximo comes barreling at me. My pulse spikes. Are we really doing this right now?
I curl my fingers into a fist and make a jab at his throat. Since I don’t want to hurt him, I don’t put a lot of force behind it. He takes my hand in his, a grin on his face.
“Good.” His praise ripples through me. “You can use your fist, your elbow, or any kind of weapon to strike any of those three areas. Thumbs are best for the eyes. Knee or a bat to the groin.”
“Got it.”
“Now let’s try the other way. I’m going to grab you from behind.” He spins me around, trapping my back to his chest. His warmth sinks through the fabric of my dress. “Cara mia, you’re not fighting me off.”
“Hmm?” I moan, leaning further into him. His cologne swirls through my senses. I love the way he feels against me, I can’t get enough of him.
He chuckles. “Stomp on my foot and I’ll make you come.” He doesn’t have to ask twice. I shove my pointy heel down and he grunts in pain. “Good girl.”
Turning in his arms, I press my lips to his. He grabs my ass, lifting me into the air, and my legs wrap around his waist. My back hits the wall.
Our kiss turns feral. We lick, suck, and bite, lust thickening the air around us. My hands are in his hair, around his neck, as my heels dig into his ass. I want this. I want him.
He tugs my lower lip between his teeth before releasing it. “One last lesson. If you need to kill a man, either destroy the brain or sever the blood flow. Okay?”
“Yes,” I moan, dragging my tongue across his lip.
He moans. “What did I just say?”
With quick, precise motions, I release his belt buckle. “Smash his head in or slit his throat.”
“Good girl,” he purrs, helping me with his zipper.
I drag my panties to the side, and line him up.
He thrusts, burying every inch of his pierced cock in me.
A gasp spills from my lips. I’ll never grow used to how all that metal feels.
His Jacob’s Ladder grazes against every sensitive nerve.
The King’s Crown rubs back and forth over my G-spot until my eyes roll back in my head.
He fucks me with punishing thrusts, just the way I like it. Rough and unforgiving. Plucking my sensitized nipples, he sucks my neck. Biting down, the pain mixes with pleasure, and I revel in the thought of his mark on my skin.
I drink in his feral grunts. His Italian curses. This man holds nothing back, and I love every second of it.
He works me higher and higher. We’re raw, brutal, completely entranced by each other.
Yes, yes!
He reaches between us and pinches my clit. The sharp pain sends me into the stratosphere.
I scream his name as I come apart. With an animalistic grunt he fills me with his cum.