Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
Nero
“ Y ou’re not barefoot tonight. Impressive,” I drawl.
Her face turns a bright red, and I wonder how far the color goes. All the way to her chest? Further down? She has on a cotton nightdress with a high collar and ruffles. It looks like something straight from the eighteen hundreds, and she’s drowning inside the fabric, but instead of repelling me, it only makes me want to peel the dress away and drink in the sight of her.
“Believe it or not, I don’t make it a habit of running around barefoot.”
I step further into the room, sealing my fate. “How about running around in the dead of night? Is that a habit?”
“Maybe,” a small smile teases her mouth. “And you? Is it a habit or are you patrolling the grounds to keep us safe?”
“You’re in an impenetrable house. It’s as safe for you as it gets.”
“And yet you’re here,” she says, raising a brow. “You got into the impenetrable house, so perhaps it’s not as safe as advertised.”
I bite back my smile at her jab. “I was invited.”
“What is that saying about letting the fox into the henhouse?” She turns away and moves towards a row of potted roses, and I follow after her, too caught in her spell to do anything else.
I watch her slim fingers brush over the petals of the plants and imagine that she’s running her fingers over my cock in the same way. Shit .
“Hm,” I murmur, too fixated to come up with a clever response.
“Do you like roses?” she asks. “Or, let me guess, big, bad, macho men shouldn’t have favorite flowers?”
“What’s yours?” I ask instead.
“I don’t know,” she ducks her head, “but my favorite color is blue, so something in that color.”
“Sergio has been keeping this greenhouse since we were boys,” I reveal. “He never used to leave the doors open. I only ever stepped foot in here once. He’s very protective of what he does here.”
“Does he still—” she trails off.
“He’s too old now. A bit senile, but he still lives in the compound.”
“What does he do with the flowers?” Sofia’s eyes are wide and curious, “There has to be hundreds of them, and they can’t possibly live for so long, even inside here.”
I shrug and those luminous green eyes narrow at me.
“I like to imagine that he sends them to a woman he loves. Imagine how sweet it would be to receive flowers from a man knowing that he grew them himself.”
I cock my head and watch the dreamy look on her face. How ridiculous. What is she doing here, in this blood-stained world? She’s going to get her fantastical heart shredded. “Flowers are insensible presents.”
The space between her forehead wrinkles into a ‘V’ and her bottom lip pokes out. “What do you think is a sensible present, then? A switchblade and a Glock?”
I can’t help the laugh that rips out of me, and delight makes her eyes glow.
“Jewelry,” I finally say.
She rolls her eyes. “Unimaginative. I prefer clothes, scarves, and shoes.”
“Why?” I dig out a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and ignore the way her mouth twists down in disapproval. “They’ll only end up being torn off your body.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, we both still, and then her mouth forms a small, “Oh.” Her throat bobs as she swallows. “I don’t think it’s all that easy to rip fabric. It only works in fiction.”
I’m tempted to tell her that we can put it into practice right here and now, but my senses manage to step in on time, and I light a cigarette. “Want one?”
Sofia surprises me for the second time tonight when she nods. I frown, wanting to retract my offer, because for some reason, the thought of her putting this filth in her body annoys me.
I hand one over to her and then step closer to light it for her. This close, I can see the way her brown hair is streaked with blonde randomly. Too random to be unnatural. I want to run my hands through that mass of hair and then wrap it around my fist.
The trust in her eyes as she stares up at me rocks me to my core, and I’m frozen in place until the sound of her choking cough snaps me back to the present.
Without a second thought, I rip the stick out of her mouth and flick it away.
“You’re not supposed to inhale so much at first.”
“You should have told me that before I almost killed myself. Give me another.”
“Go buy your own cigarettes.”
“How rude,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Aren’t you supposed to be nice to your hostess?”
I don’t point out that she’s as much a guest in this house as I am, or maybe more. Unlike her, though, I don’t plan on staying long. This place took everything from me, and I’m not going to let it take me, too.
It’s a pity that that light in her eyes is going to be nothing but dying embers soon. Sebastian is still a sadistic son of a bitch, and she’s an easy target.
“I’m not a nice man,” it’s as much as I’m willing to tell her, and if she has any luck of sense, she’ll see it as the warning it is and walk away. But instead, she steps closer.
“Then why did you protect me at breakfast? And why are you out here?”
I lean back against a solid wood table littered with tools and empty plant pots. “I like it here. It’s peaceful, and I had important things to discuss on the phone. And I didn’t protect you at breakfast. You were stealing his focus from our conversation.”
“It didn’t sound too important.”
I take a drag on my cigarette, wanting to flee from this conversation and to stay right here at the same time.
“I think you’re a liar, Nero Castello.”
My fists tighten at my sides. “You should watch your mouth, Princess. I’ve killed men for less.”
She shivers, those pearly white teeth clamping down on her pillowy bottom lip. “I’m not afraid of you.”
I rise to my full height and step forward, towering over her with almost an entire foot, intent on making her reconsider her brave words. “You’re not?”
A waft of that citrusy smell assaults my nose and senses, and I realize my mistake too late. She’s so tiny and fragile. It’ll be so easy for me to break her... It’d be too easy for anyone.
“Your tattoos.” Her eyes land on my neck and she goes up on the tips of her toes, trying to inspect the tattoos. “Is that a tree? Can I see the rest of it? What does it mean?”
“You’d have to strip me down to see the whole thing,” I reply, a smirk playing on my lips. “And I don’t think your husband would appreciate his new bride getting a private show.”
Sofia shrugs. “It’s more than he’s willing to do for me.”
I shouldn’t ask. I absolutely shouldn’t ask. Shit, I really shouldn’t, but I do anyway. “What?”
She drops back onto her heels, her tone casual yet tinged with something darker. “At events, new couples always sneak off, returning looking disheveled... It always seemed so thrilling, but the reality? Far from it. It makes me wonder why they even bother.”
“Explain,” I growl, hating how much I want to know about her sex life with Sebastian yet unable to stop myself from asking. I’m far too curious about what she thinks sex is.
Her lashes lower, shielding her eyes from me. “I’m just saying, it’s not as great as people make it out to be.”
“It’s far better,” I counter, my voice firm.
Her eyes snap up to meet mine as I continue, “You just need to be with someone who shows you how much he wants you. It starts with how fiercely he kisses you. From the first brush of lips to the way his tongue plunges into your mouth. Diving in, seeking yours. Ravaging you in every possible way. A kiss that mimics just how hard he’s going to take you. Own you.”
I should stop. This isn’t something you say to another man’s wife. But why do I feel compelled to explain this to her? Does she really interest me, or is this just some sick, twisted part of me wanting to destroy every shred of innocence she has?
A sick feeling of needing to ruin her. Corrupt her. Make her unfit for any other man.
But she isn’t just with any other man. She’s with Sebastian. And that should be a clear enough warning to abandon this mission before it destroys everything.
“He doesn’t kiss me like that,” she admits softly, her voice almost a whisper. “And I wish he would. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel like such a statue.”
I remember Sebastian’s words from earlier, and they sound even worse coming from her. “Don’t say that about yourself.”
“I want to be kissed the way you described,” she continues, her eyes pleading. “To feel wanted. To be ravaged.”
Tension crackles through the room, and her eyes are pleading. Her mouth is red and raw from being bitten and, God, it’s such a beautiful mouth, and it’s such a shame that it’s been so neglected.
It would just be a kiss.
One taste, and that’s all.
“Nero.”
It’s a plea, an order, and a supplication all at once. I take a step back, cutting the cord that’s drawing taut between us. On the list of women I can never touch, Sofia Lucchese is at the top, written in big, bold, neon letters.
I suck the nicotine into my lungs and let out a breath, smoke curling up from my mouth. “Go to bed, Princess.”
I leave before I can do something stupid, like give in to the voice in my head that says she’s just a pawn on the board and taking her will only be a power move.
This time around, I don’t go back into the house. Instead, I pick my way through the cobbled paths to my 1967 Chevrolet Impala sitting in the garage. I drop into it and step on the gas, burning rubber out of the compound and towards the docks where Donatella’s little house sits like a beacon for desperate men like myself.
The luxurious inside is a startling contrast to the drab exterior, and as soon as I step in, I have the insane urge to retrace my steps, but I force myself to continue in. I have to get rid of whatever this itch under my skin is, and jerking off to images of Sofia isn’t going to cut it tonight. Not even close.
“Hello, handsome,” a blonde with artificially plump lips approaches me, arms open wide. She’s in a barely-there red dress, and her breasts spill out from the low neckline.
Donatella’s isn’t a brothel, but the bar always seems to attract people in need of a quick, dirty sexual escapade.
“I have a room upstairs,” she purrs into my ear, “and the blonde at the bar will be joining us.”
I don’t spare the third party a glance. “Let’s go.” The more, the merrier, I guess. If this doesn’t succeed in exorcising her from my head, nothing will.
Blonde one signals to her friend, and together, we make our way up the spiral stairs and to the upper level, where a hallway full of doors extends ahead of us.
The door is barely shut behind us when they throw themselves at me. I turn my head away to dodge their eager mouths and they only look disappointed for a second before they start tossing off their clothes.
I light up a cigarette, and by the time I’ve taken a few drags, they’re already kneeling in the middle of the bed, naked and hungry. I pull off my t-shirt and then shuck off my jeans and briefs.
“Oh my,” one of them gasps, gaze fixed on my half hard cock. She crawls forward and swallows my cock into the back of her throat, a sound of her pleasure vibrating through my skin.
Her mouth is snug and hot around my length, and I go from a semi to fully hard-on in no time at all. The other girl goes to dig out condoms from the bedside table, and then she tugs me into the bed.
I’ve never been a fan of picking up random girls at bars. I much prefer to have an understanding with someone where we are solely in it for sexual gratification. A string of new girls every night with names that all bleed into one big jumble don’t do it for me, but it’s all I can get tonight. I don’t just want this, I need it .
I dig my fingers into the woman’s hair and pull her away from my cock, and then the other one rolls the condom on me.
“On your back,” I tell the first one, then turn to the other. “On your hands and knees.”
They hurry to comply, and as soon as they are in position, I push into her welcoming heat. “Eat her pussy,” I order the one who’s pussy is gripping me like a goddamn vice.
She moans, body vibrating and adjusting to my size, “Shit. I can feel it in my stomach.” Her back arches as she bends to bury her face in between her friend’s legs.
“I want to be kissed.”
Sofia’s innocent words resound in my head, and with an angry hiss, I grab the girls jaw and push her up, smashing my mouth against hers. The other girl is suddenly there, pushing her friend away and taking over the kiss, hands exploring my body. I grab her tit in my hand and squeeze, and she gasps into my mouth.
My hand slides down her body to her dripping center and I push two fingers inside her, not breaking the kiss or the rhythm of my hips. I drag my mouth away from hers and kiss down her chest till I have one firm nipple in my mouth.
“Don’t stop!”
“Oh God.”
I pull out from the first girl, roll on another condom and then push into the other, and her scream is ear-piercing. While I fuck her, her friend kneels over her head and lowers her pussy to her mouth. Her eyes roll back in her head as the mouth under her clamps onto her.
I grab her jaw and drag her closer, tongue spearing into her mouth all while I continue to relentlessly push in and out of the blonde lying under us.
“Her clit,” I grit out. “Suck her clit.”
I swallow the cry she lets out and then reach down to circle the other blonde’s clit with my finger. Her hips stutter and she begins to move erratically as I draw tight circles around her sensitive bud.
The one I’m kissing pulls her mouth away. “I’m going to come. Oh shit.”
I pinch the other one’s clit and, with a broken cry, she comes, her walls tightening around me. At the same time, her friend stills and throws her head back, mouth gaping open in a silent scream.
I bang her through her orgasm, and then finally, pleasure rushes down my spine, and I let loose, my orgasm ripping through me.
One of the blondes holds up another condom with a smile. “What do you say, darling?”
If it means I’ll never have to feel the need to kiss Sebastian’s wife, then I’m willing to go all night long. The first step though is staying far away from her, and if that means I’m going to have to be mean to the green-eyed Princess, so be it.
It’s for my own good as much as it is for hers.