Chapter 11
KARINA
Crickets chirp through my open bedroom window, the sound carried on a light breeze. I’ve always hated the noise they make, especially in late summer when they spend all night battling each other with their grating call to try to win a mate. But it does work for them, doesn’t it?
I guess sometimes you have to be loud and bold to claim your lover.
Cocking my head in the full-length mirror, I run a hand over the blood-red dress I’m holding against my body.
It’s been buried in the back of my closet for a long time.
Buying it on a whim was a small act of rebellion on my part.
Hiding it was how I tried to atone. Lord knows if I ever got caught with a dress like this…
let’s just say my uncle wouldn’t be happy or kind.
There were plenty of times I planned to get rid of it, but whenever I’d actually hold the dress in my hands, the fabric gliding cool and slick against my fingers, something in me would resist. Now, I’m glad I kept it. This dress is my bold, insistent, loud mating call.
Tonight, I’m going to play dirty—even though I have no idea what I’m doing.
I’m going to be the countess and I’m going to go get my man.
Tossing the dress on the bed, I send Mercutio a message. I need a favor.
My cousin is unpredictable sometimes and he’s definitely a little rough around the edges, but I know that I can trust him…
for the most part. We have an understanding.
Over the years, we’ve traded too many little tits for tats for him to ever truly rat me out.
On top of that, I get the sense that underneath all his macho bullshit, he has a soft spot for me. All women, really.
But I still have a niggling doubt that he won’t agree to this.
It’s a big ask.
I need to see Marco, though. It’s nonnegotiable. He’s the only man who has ever made my body and heart ache like I’m suffocating and flying at the same time.
What’s in it for me?
I read my cousin’s text a couple of times. Shoot. I wasn’t really prepared to offer a favor in return. I don’t even know what he’d be interested in. With a sigh, I type, What do you want?
I hold my breath and wait for his reply.
When he doesn’t respond after a full minute, I set my phone down and flop back onto the bed with a huff.
I can’t do this without him and it doesn’t look like he’s game.
I should have come up with a back-up plan.
What sounds like a legitimate excuse for a good girl sneaking out in the middle of the night?
Star gazing? Sleep walking? Sudden onset restless leg syndrome necessitating a long walk?
I am so bad at this.
Just then, my cell pings and hope squeezes my chest.
The race next Saturday. I have a date. I need you to tell everyone I was with you the entire time.
A smile tugs at my lips. This is a better trade-off than I could have imagined. Because it means both of us will be free to roam during the race. Deal! I text back.
So what do you want, kid?
I type out my plan and wait for his response.
Seriously? Your cover story is that I had to take you to the store for tampons at eleven o’clock at night?
I add, Oh, we’ll definitely be going to the store afterward. For super plus size tampons, and Midol, and a heating pad because my cramps were really, really bad.
I grin. I’m the only female in this household besides my mother, and no man in this family would go out to pick up feminine supplies for me. It’s a total get out of jail free card.
I don’t need all the gory details, he texts.
It’s human biology. Get over it, I write back.
Meet me outside in fifteen.
Fist bumping the air, I carefully fold the dress and set it inside my oversized purse, then grab my small makeup bag and a pair of black flats.
Everything fits inside the purse nicely, so I place my book, keys, phone, and wallet on top to hide the contraband beneath.
My heart is almost pumping more over the thought of sneaking out of this house than over why I’m doing it.
Tiptoeing out of my room, I listen carefully for any sounds in the house.
I haven’t seen my parents or my uncle all day.
They might not even be here for all I know, in which case Mercutio won’t have to make any excuses for me tonight.
We can just explain ourselves later when Uncle Sergio checks the security camera footage like he always does.
As long as I come home with a bag full of tampons and a heating pad, we’re good to go.
Merc is waiting for me with a car pulled around front. He raises one eyebrow and stares pointedly at my purse but doesn’t say anything until we reach the highway. “I’m giving you half an hour and that’s it. Do you even know where you’re going?”
“Not really.”
He side-eyes me. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Karina. Are you sure this dude is worth it?”
There’s a hint of compassion in his tone that surprises me. Is my stalwart, selfish cousin actually feeling sorry for my position in life?
I shrug. “It’s nothing serious. Just a little fun. You men have a little fun all the time.”
He scoffs. “That’s different—”
“Sure. I get it.” Because I’m a pure, meek, complacent female who never talks back and always does what she’s told or else. Except not this time.
Irritated, I climb into the back seat, pull the red dress over my sundress, and then wriggle out of the sundress like a pro. My makeup goes on easy, just lipstick and a little mineral powder. I spend the rest of the short drive silently pep talking myself, but I’m not sure it’s working.
Merc turns the headlights off and rolls slowly down the long drive, then veers left where the path splits off between the Bellanti house and the winery.
He shakes his head and heaves a long sigh, but doesn’t say anything to dissuade me.
A knot lodges in my throat at the reality of what I’m about to do.
This property is massive, and I have no idea how to find Marco.
Hesitating with my hand on the door handle, I attempt to get a grip on my sporadic breathing and fail.
“You want to just leave and forget the whole thing?” Merc sounds hopeful. “We shouldn’t be here, Karina. If we get caught…it won’t be pretty.”
“No. I want my half hour.”
I see his jaw clench, and he nods. “Then get out already, so I can park somewhere less conspicuous. And by the way—that dress you’re wearing? I’m gonna need a little extra to keep my mouth shut about this.”
Shooting him a death glare, I hiss, “No you don’t. If Sergio knew you even brought me here tonight, he’d burn your ass.”
I’m barely out of the vehicle before he backs up and leaves. Ha, he knows I’m right. Merc won’t dare say a word because he’d be in just as much shit as I would be, maybe more.
It would be easy to panic right now, but I don’t. Time is short enough as it is and I don’t want to waste it. Trespassing is the least of my concerns.
Keeping a fair distance from the house, I make a cautious circle around it, the grass cool and damp on my bare feet. There are security cameras angled on every exterior wall, but I should be far enough away to stay out of view if they’re anything like Uncle Sergio’s cameras at home.
Lights are on in the second story, otherwise, the house is dark.
He’s probably out with her. Or maybe she’s here, in his room.
Nausea burns my throat. I didn’t think this through enough to consider that he might have company.
That redhead could be sprawled naked in his bed for all I know.
Oh, Marco. I hope like hell it’s not true.
I’m not sure I could survive seeing that with my own eyes.
A sudden noise makes me go still. Just ahead, a light turns on on the first floor, revealing an enclosed patio.
A figure steps out and takes a drink from a glass in his hand.
It takes my eyes a moment to completely adjust to the change in light, but then I see him clearly.
It’s Marco, looking out into the night. His face tips up to the sky.
My Romeo. It’s as if this moment was meant to be.
“Marco?” I whisper his name as I approach, sticking to the shadows.
He jerks to alertness, his head swiveling toward me.
“It’s me.” I lift my chin and walk to him with purposeful steps, seeing disbelief on his face. I’m a bit pleased with how much I’ve shocked him. That’s exactly how I felt to find him with a woman on his arm.
“Karina?”
“Are you alone?” It seems like the most important question right now, even though I dread the answer.
“What are you doing here? Jesus Christ. Get over here, hurry, before someone sees you.” He waves me over to the ornate iron rail around the patio.
Sweeping him with my eyes, my breath catches in my throat. Is this even happening right now? “I had to see you,” I tell him. “But only if you’re not…entertaining anyone.”
He grins, shaking his head. “I’m alone. Take my hand.”
Our fingers entwine, heat pumping through me as he helps me over the short rail and tugs me inside the patio doors. He shuts and locks them, pulls the heavy curtain, and spins to me. I barely get a glance at the room—his bedroom, it appears—before he gathers me in his arms.
“Karina, bella,” he murmurs, dipping his head toward me.
Instead of letting him kiss me, I push him away. “You acted like you didn’t even know me today. I want to know why.”
This was not the plan—confronting him like this, wasting what few precious minutes we have—but now that I’m here in his arms, I can’t hold back my jealousy.
His eyes narrow. “It killed me.”
I scoff. “It didn’t look like it to me. How do you think I felt, seeing you with that…” I can’t finish the sentence.
He smooths my hair and presses his warm lips to my forehead. “She’s nobody.”
His words do nothing to assuage my anger. She’s not nobody. She’s somebody to him, somebody close enough to hold his hand and touch him possessively.
Pulling away, I put some space between us as my heart breaks all over again. “You’re tearing me apart, Marco. I don’t know what to do, what to think. Who is she? Do I even get to ask that?”
His eyes track from my eyes to my lips, then trail slowly down to my bare feet and back up my body again. Even in this moment of conflict, the heat crackling between us is undeniable.
“It’s a nice dress,” he says.
“Thank you,” I say, keeping the edge in my voice.
With his eyes on mine, he steps closer and closer, until his hands drop to grab my hips. I let him. A deep, appreciative breath empties his chest as he rakes me once more with his gaze. My anger begins to soften, though I still want answers.
“You look incredible.”
“Marco—”
“She’s no one, Karina,” he says, more forcefully this time. “You have a nobody guy and I have a nobody girl. What’s the difference?”
“That doesn’t work for me,” I burst out angrily. “I won’t have a nobody guy anymore.”
It’s a promise I know I can’t keep, but I don’t care. I won’t give him up. I’ll do anything to keep us together.
Lifting up on my tiptoes, I press my lips to his.
Marco’s hand digs into my hair while he draws me tight against him with the other.
My dress suddenly feels too thick and heavy, too much of a barrier between us.
I crave this man with every inch of my being, aching to be naked against him. Oh, I want that so badly. I’m on fire.
As our kiss deepens, his hands rove over my curves until he finds the zipper on the side of my dress and starts to slide it down, as if he’s reading my mind. He wants to undress me…and I want him to, so desperately, but our limited time is at the forefront of my mind.
I recall a scene from one of the countess’s adventures and drop to my knees.
“Karina.” His uncertain tone is only for my benefit because what man doesn’t want this, right? Sure, I’ve got no experience in this department, but that’s not going to stop me.
“I want to,” I whisper as I pull down his zipper. And then I gasp as his cock springs free into my hand, the pure size of it taking me by surprise. I’ve…I mean, I’ve never…
Okay, I’ve never seen one like this, so thick and so…perfectly formed. Just random dicks on the internet and that time a few years ago when I found my cousin’s stash of dirty magazines.
“Karina,” he groans and puts a hand to my head. I’m not sure if he’s trying to push me away or pull me closer, so I lean forward and take the tip of him into my mouth. I don’t overthink it. I just feel…
The warm plumpness in my mouth, my tongue running over the little slit at the tip.
The skin there is like silk. Opening wider, I take him in more, enjoying the feel of his ridged shaft against my tongue, the way the heat of him pulses in my mouth.
Marco gasps, but I can’t take any more. He’s filled me to the back of my throat, and I’ll gag if I keep going.
Do I try, or do I ease up a little? My head is spinning, my chest going tight as I consider how to proceed.
What would Jane Austen say about this?
Run mad as often as you choose, but do not faint!
I choke a little as the words fill my mind, blinking back a few tears.
Marco pulls back a bit, trying to be gentlemanly, but I’m quick to take him back in.
Glancing up, I catch him staring down at me.
His fingers wind into my hair as he pulls his hips back again and I push forward, moaning a little.
We repeat this dance until I’m the one pulling back and pushing forward, letting him nearly escape from my mouth before sucking him back in.
The pleasure in his fast, harsh breaths spurs me on, filling me with a kind of satisfaction I’ve never known.
I relax my throat the best I can and try to find a rhythm that he likes, not too fast and not too slow.
Letting out another groan, Marco starts thrusting in time with the bobbing of my head, his cock swelling in my mouth, pumping faster and faster until he’s scraping lightly against my teeth, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
I may not know exactly what I’m doing, but it’s obvious that Marco likes it anyway.
Our eyes lock again, and even though my jaw is starting to ache, I feel a fresh surge of lust. This is power. This is control. This is…incredible.
With a sharp gasp, he grips the sides of my head and tries to pull out of me, but I grab his ass in my palms and hold him tight. He’s about to come. I can feel it.
“Karina—” but he doesn’t finish his sentence.
Hot, salty fluid explodes into my mouth and coats the back of my throat, Marco groaning softly, me echoing him. My eyes go wide as I try to decide what to do…but before I can make a choice, my body takes over on instinct, and I swallow it all down, holding back a tiny smile.
Because I did this to him. Me. He couldn’t even hold himself back at the end. I win.
And if I never see a more satisfied look on a man’s face, I’ll die happy.