Chapter Twenty-Three
Chantilly
I knew Valentino had come to bed at some stage during the night or early hours of the morning, there was an indent in his pillow despite the fact his side of the mattress was stone-cold. I guessed he’d been helping install the new monitors.
That I ached to be with him made me grumpy, but then I’d never been a morning person. Nor had I ever before suffered from sexual frustration or rejection, how could I when I’d never wanted to be with anyone? But I couldn’t deny my needs any longer. I wanted Valentino, that he’d been willing to stop my heart from beating no longer mattered.
It wasn’t until I climbed out of bed and pulled my hair into a ponytail, then pulled on a long white dress with tiny printed lavender flowers, that I went in search of him. I didn’t bother with a bra or panties; they’d only get in the way.
I was halfway down the hallway when I made out a rhythmic thump-thump and knew exactly where he was and what he was doing. My inner thighs clenched as I descended the interior stairs in my bare feet. My soles were practically back to normal, thanks to Valentino pulling out all the glass and dabbing on antibacterial gel.
I stepped onto the polished concrete and walked toward the man who’d been occupying my mind more than what should be legal. My steps slowed. There was definitely something illegal about him being shirtless, with his ink caressing his sweaty, bulging shoulders and arms as he slammed the punching bag again and again, relentless in his quest to pound the bag into oblivion.
I paused when he caught the bag and twisted his head to see me. I arched a brow. “Whose face are you imagining you’re smashing?”
“Take a guess.”
“So it’s someone I know?”
He nodded. “It is.”
“Which means it’s someone we both know.” I scrunched my eyes at him, as much to block out his delectable masculinity as it was to try and think clearly. “William?”
“Got it in one.” He stepped away from the bag and grabbed a towel from a nearby wall hook, wiping off his sweat.
“What has William done?”
He snorted. “You mean other than almost fucking you before handing you back to Sean?”
I looked at him in a new light, my belly fluttering and my limbs tingling. “You’re jealous.”
Valentino growled as he stepped toward me, then reached out and drew me against his bared, sweaty chest. He cupped my chin and forced my eyes to meet his fierce stare. “No one touches what is mine.”
“Except I’m not yours,” I said in a wobbly voice, my legs going weak.
“That’s where I’m going to have to prove you wrong.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” I asked.
He spun me around, my back to his semi-naked front, the enormous bulge of his arousal leaving me panting, my senses reeling. What was it about him that kept me unraveled until I was completely undone and exposed?
He clutched my ponytail with one hand and dragged my head back. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about grabbing hold of your hair like this while I fucked you?”
His words that were spoken so roughly, so intimately, made me instantly wet. I was verging on desperate when I croaked, “What’s stopping you? It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve tugged my hair,” I reminded hoarsely.
He exhaled next to my ear, the air tickling inside my canal and making me moan. When he jerked my head back a little more, then slammed his opened mouth against the side of my throat, I almost orgasmed then and there.
That he was still kissing my throat and tugging at my hair until my scalp burned only enhanced my feral need to be taken by him.
He sucked my flesh, leaving me dangling off the edge of what was left of my sanity. I arched my throat, giving him better access even as he released my hair, his hands instead cupping my breasts that were restrained by nothing but the fabric of my dress.
He used his thumbs to roll my nipples, making them tighten and point like arrows. I sagged against him, too intoxicated by his mouth and hands, too weak even though I craved so much more.
It was only when he bent to lift my dress and expose my nakedness beneath, the air caressing my bared skin before he touched the seam of my pussy then peeled my folds apart, that I knew a climax was seconds away.
I jerked and gasped when he flicked my clit, then moaned as he pushed one finger deep inside me, rhythmically driving in and out of me until I was panting and writhing against his digit and just seconds away from shattering under his touch.
He withdrew his hand, his voice close to my ear. “Who do you belong to?”
I wanted to scream and stamp my feet. I wanted to force his hand back to where he’d been playing me like a fiddle. But none of that would do me any good. I’d tell him what he wanted to hear, though we’d both know it was a lie. “I belong to you,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Good answer.”
He pushed off his pants, bent me over, then aligned himself to my core before he plunged deep inside me. My breath wheezed out, my vision blurring. He was so damn big! Even when I was wet with invitation he barely fit. Then he began to pump in and out of me and pain soon morphed into pleasure.
He moved faster and faster, his hips pistoning as flesh slapped against flesh. He was a damn machine and I was putty being pounded by his forceful lovemaking. No. Not lovemaking. This was nothing more than fucking, a purely physical intensity that made me forget everything but a fundamental need to soar to the stars.
“I want you to come now,” he growled.
“Unlike you,” I gritted, “I’m not a machine that orgasms at will.”
“Then perhaps this will help,” he said. Unerringly finding my clit, he pinched the plump flesh then massaged hard.
I shrieked at the intense pleasure-pain, at the orgasm that soon after took away my breath as I exploded like a firecracker before I shuddered with little aftershocks
Holy fuck.
He grunted behind me, then thrust one last time before he emptied his seed inside me, bellowing like he’d claimed his prize. Perhaps he had. I’d come to him willingly, had even forgone underwear. My intent had been clear, a little too damn clear.
I straightened, all but forcing him to withdraw from me. He rubbed my hips, his touch tender and his voice guttural. “Did I hurt you?”
My dress dropped back into place as I turned to look at him. “Would it matter if you did?”
He stiffened, then bent and pulled on his pants. “Do you think I’d ask if it didn’t?”
“I’m not sure,” I said, lifting my chin. “We might have been intimate more than a few times, but you’re still a stranger to me.”
He dragged a hand through his hair. “So ask me whatever you want to know about me.”
“All right, I will.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “When was your first kill?”
His lips flattened, his jawline hardening. “Out of all the questions that’s what you want to know?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
He exhaled slowly, evenly. “I was twelve.”
“Twelve?” I repeated faintly.
“Yes, twelve,” he answered, a muscle twitching at the corner of his jaw.
“Who was it?”
The tic of his muscle became more obvious when he said, “My stepfather.”
I gaped. “What did he do?”
“Not every family is happy behind closed doors, he physically abused and terrorized my mother on a regular basis. When he aimed a rifle at her, it was the last straw. I shot him before he could shoot her.”
I couldn’t help but soften toward him. I might have been neglected when I was younger, but I hadn’t lived through the horror of domestic violence. Though I wasn’t sure if my parents had ever really loved me, they’d definitely loved each other.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. My stepfather chose to be evil and I eliminated him for it.”
“What about your biological father?”
“What about him?” His nostrils flared. “He left my mom when she was pregnant with me. That says all I need to know about him.”
I nodded. I felt the same way about my family. They chose money over me, despite the fact they knew how I’d be treated by the man who’d wanted me.
He reached for my hand. “Let’s take a shower. Then I’ll make us a hearty breakfast.”
My heart lurched. I’d need a nourishing breakfast if I was to face the Agostino family tonight. I only wondered why Valentino was so keen to throw me to the wolves.
Hadn’t he done enough without directly killing me?