7. Urzo
7
Urzo
The crunch of bone against my knuckles does nothing to numb the chaos brewing inside of me.
Matteo stumbles back, barely catching himself from my punch. He might be smaller in size, but he’s one of my best men. He can handle a blow or two to the chin without caving. With Tommy busy with taking the marriage document to where it needs to be, I can’t take advantage of a two versus one.
Tommy doesn’t mind causing pain. He’s exactly what I need to knock some sense into me. A real shame not to have him when I need him.
Few of my other brothers will face me when I look this disturbed. Matteo doesn’t mind a bit of back and forth. He’s a crazy bastard for it, and I’ll thank him later for it when I’m with a clearer head.
Sweat clings to us, and we’re both left panting. He doesn’t blink, his focus trained on me. His taped-up hands, unlike mine, offer him some protection. Guarding his face, he sweeps to my side and swings.
Needing to feel something to distract me from the overflowing thoughts flooding my brain, I don’t bother dodging. As his knuckles crash into my cheek, I all but grunt. As his hand barely scrapes my nose, I avoid a bloody stream.
My next swing is met with a quick duck before he catches me by the ribs. Fuck. That one wasn’t on purpose.
“All it takes is a pretty girl, and you’re suddenly growing dull?” Sneering at me, Matteo curls his fingers, all but begging me to hit him.
Him calling Eliza pretty is enough to make my ears ring. Jealousy flares thick enough that I could choke on it.
This is the problem. She wasn’t supposed to mean anything to me. I wasn’t supposed to get my cock near her, but one moment of weakness…
I grunt as I hear the crack before I feel the wetness against my upper lip as his next swing is a hit.
“Come on man, pay attention.” He’s growling now, frustrated by this one-sided fight. “Stop thinking about the chick. If she’s a fucking problem, then–”
I’m swinging without thinking, punching him hard enough to make him stumble. My knuckles ache, stinging from contact.
As Matteo spits out blood, he smiles. Not caring that his teeth are dotted in red, he shakes his head. “Don’t like me talking about her, huh?”
No, can’t say I do. Now I’ve got to add that to my list of weaknesses. Losing myself because another man is simply thinking about her is something that could get me killed.
“Just shut the fuck up and call it.” Knowing I’ve hit him hard enough to leave his jaw swelling, he doesn’t take my advice. No, he continues to swing, and I have to focus long enough to hit him in the ribs twice and his face once more before he’s landing on his ass.
I’m panting, beyond frustrated with myself. With everything.
Swiping my lip with my thumb, I flick more blood toward the ground. Sniffing, my nose aches. Good thing I can’t get any uglier, or I’d be a little worried.
Fuck. No, I wouldn’t. Who would I have to impress, my wife ?
Shaking the thought out of my head, I offer my hand to him to help him back to his feet. Despite the hits, he’ll be fine after snuggling with an ice pack.
“Are you going to be alright, boss?” That smile of his disappears long enough to reveal a look of concern. “Haven’t seen you like this before.”
Me either. Guess it’s a new look we’re all going to have to get used to.
Grunting, I roll a shoulder. “Just fine. Go clean up, you look like hell.”
He grins, taking my words as a compliment. “You could use a rag yourself. Nose looks a little straighter now, though. You’re welcome.”
Damn kid. I shoo him away, growling at him. Thankfully, he takes the hint.
Moving to snatch my shirt from the ground, I use it to wipe my brow and remove the blood from my skin.
I’m going to have to face Eliza again. She’ll be pissed with the way I left her. I’d rather her be mad than horrified because of my state.
Despite the throb of my nose, I swipe it hard enough to leave my shirt stained red. Not broken, but it’ll be sore.
Sighing under my breath, I linger for as long as I can before I’m forced to face my lingering problem.
* * *
When I return to the room, Eliza is curled up on the bed, covered by the blanket. I’m honestly surprised I don’t have to go hunt her down. She’s run before, I wouldn’t put it past her to try again.
In truth, I don’t have a reason to keep going after her now. She’s signed the paper. It’s all but official now. I don’t have to watch over her anymore. There’s nothing that can stop this from happening.
She doesn’t move, even when I close the door with a thud . I’d think she was dead if it weren’t for the slow movement of her stomach as she breathes. Not slow enough to be unconscious. No, she’s awake.
Blinking, I turn away and make my way toward my bathroom. Smelling like blood, I need to scrub my skin clean before I consider crawling into my bed.
I don’t look at my appearance in the mirror, not wanting to see the man looking back. A weak man with flaws will be there waiting for me.
After twisting knobs and making the water a punishing heat, I jump in the shower long enough to clean my body. I don’t touch my cock, not wanting to risk letting it grow hard. I lost myself before because I had led with my cock. Not this time.
Once I’m out of the shower, I stare at the bed and listen to the whispered lure of joining her.
Silly thoughts of pulling her to my chest and waking her up to my cock cross my mind like I’m an in-love fool aching to get another taste. Guess I can’t avoid the thoughts after all.
No. I don’t need this. Don’t need her.
So, why am I moving toward the bed then, like she’s tugging me forward, like I’m on a goddamn leash? She wouldn’t even have to yank. No, I’d be as obedient as a German Shepard.
Shaking my head at the thought, I move to my side of the bed and yank the covers back. Ignoring her as best as one can, I lay down and beg my body to relax. Despite getting my ass kicked, and taking a hot shower, my muscles are tight. I shut off the lamp, hoping the night will take me away from all my problems.
The gap between us is large and empty. Laying on my back, my eyes close, but the exhaustion I feel doesn’t let me slip away into a restful sleep. Instead, I’m opening my eyes once more and staring into the darkness.
I hear her breathing; it’s uneven and fast. She’s still not sleeping.
Neither of us speaks, not once while the seconds pass by. What is there even to say?
I love you ? As if.
Suddenly, I catch the softest sound of a sniffle that makes my exhaustion dissolve into a sudden alertness. I hold my breath long enough to make my lungs burn to see if I’d misheard. But no, I hear it again. A wet sniffle.
Eliza is crying . My stubborn woman, the one who has been all threats and confidence, reduced to tears.
Even worse, I’m the one who caused them. I know it deep inside my core, and the heat that burns at my chest is immediate.
Like warning alarms are ringing in my ears, I’m left turning my head to look at her.
For once, I don’t have a fucking clue of what to say. With Eliza, that’s no surprise. I don’t know what to do most of the time when it comes to her.
“Stop staring at me,” she snaps after a minute, just feeling my eyes on her. Even with her back to me, she just knows.
“You’re upset.” I know I sound as stupid as I feel. “Why?”
“You left after stealing something kind of important,” she hisses under her breath, “any woman would be upset. This means nothing. I’m fine.”
Her virginity. Something she could’ve been saving for a better man. I swept in like a tornado and took it without permission. All this time I’ve spent away from her, I left her in this state.
I was so caught up with all these new feelings that I didn’t think about how she felt.
I’m a grade-A bastard. Fuck, and now she’s crying. Tears have been spilled because she feels like I abandoned her.
I did abandon her. Left to try to forget about everything. Left her all alone to deal with her cherry popped and my cum coating her thighs.
She pulls the blankets tighter to her body like it can hide the short-lived waves of trembles that rock through her.
“I’m sorry.” The words sound foreign as they roll off my tongue without thought, and I can’t stuff them back in. No, I mean them. When was the last time I apologized for anything?
During those times when I was younger, worrying my mother over bullet wounds and stabbings I’ve received from being reckless. That one time I killed a member of our family for being a rat, though that wasn’t a genuine one.
That’s it. Now I’m adding another one to my list. For making my wife cry.
Eliza doesn’t say anything, she just sniffs again. The sound is already beginning to haunt me. Everything inside of my head is demanding I fix this. I’ll take her hatred happily, but she’s not allowed to be sad. I’m not allowed to make her feel this way.
I erase the distance between our bodies. Rolling onto my side, I join her on her half before wrapping an arm around her. She’s so small in comparison, easily sliding over to me with one tug.
Rather than fight me, she just shakes her head like she’ll never forgive me. She has to.
“What can I do to fix this?” My words ghost over the crown of her head. Lifting my hand, I swipe at her wet cheeks. Who knows how long she’s been like this. How long I left her alone to wither in sadness.
Fuck, I want her to say she wants to stab me. I’d let her. Anything to make her feel better.
“I want to sleep and forget this happened,” she huffs under her breath. “I’ll find a room closer to Camellia, and you can do whatever you want.”
Her voice wobbles, and I realize I’ve given her too much time to get lost in her head.
I should agree. That’s the easiest and most peaceful route.
However, my chest seizes up as the thought alone makes me forget to breathe.
Just minutes ago, I thought I could give her up. Now, I’m starting to realize this is far more complicated than I thought it would be. I have to accept that my heart isn’t a boulder in my chest. I’m feeling things. Calling her a weakness is an understatement. I have to accept the truth.
I feel better having her within my reach.
As my fingers leave her cheeks, I trail them down her throat, her collarbones, and down the curve of her breast. The tip of her nipple pressing through the fabric is enough to make a groan form in the back of my throat.
I enjoy touching her. Not just for my pleasure, but I want to bring her the same thing.
When I had her draped over my lap, feeling her juices soaking through her clothing as I rubbed her through each hit should’ve been my realization point. It’s why I kept doing it. It’s why my cock was hard as steel, the reaction instant.
“This room is on the opposite side of the estate,” I tell her as I circle the small bud. “What will you do when your body gets all worked up when I’m not there? Walk through the halls, all flushed and wet for any man to see while you try to find me?”
She doesn’t bat my hand away, much to my approval.
I’m talking hypothetically here. However, we both know the hunger will remain between the both of us. I can’t go five seconds near her without my cock coming to life. I don’t know about her, but I’m sure her pussy is getting wet just from a light touch.
We’ve ruined each other. Even if we don’t want to admit it, we’re a match. Two stubborn individuals that keep wanting to fight the truth.
“Camellia says I can get stuff delivered out here. I’ll–” She sucks in a breath as I pinch her nipple before squeezing her entire breast. “–get a vibrator. Had one back at home. Thanks to you, I can get something bigger now.”
A silicone toy? She thinks that’ll be enough to satisfy her? I’m tempted by the thought of picking one out myself, and watching her attempt to try.
She’d get so frustrated and impatient, she’d beg for my cock by parting her thighs, inviting me inside.
Fuck, she really has ruined me.
“That won’t be enough,” I promise her, my voice growing thicker as I picture the whole scene playing out.
Her stomach flexes as my hand runs lower. Reaching the waistband of sweatpants I’m confident are mine, I dip between her thighs. My knuckles ache in pain as I scrape against the inner side of the blanket, but the sting is not anywhere on my mind. Hearing her groan under her breath, I pause. “Are you in pain?”
She doesn’t answer for the longest time. Pain is a weakness, admitting it out loud to someone you hate is an impossible task.
“A little. We both lost ourselves a bit. For once, I can’t blame you for it.” She blows out a sigh before sucking in a breath when my hand cups her clothed sex. Her body shivers against mine. Instead of telling me to stop, her thighs part to give me enough room.
I can’t help myself. Even if I tell myself I don’t care, I do.
I want her to want me like I want her. Just because she’s willing doesn’t mean we’re on the same page.
Shifting our bodies, I shove the blanket away as I push her to her back. Through the darkness, I can see she’s stolen my pants and my shirt.
Cursing under my breath, I lean over to turn on the lamp. I need a better view before I snap. As light floods the room, I’m blinded. Not by the lamp, but by the sight I’m given.
Eliza’s eyes are reddened, but her cheeks are dry. Flushed with color, her lips are swollen from her biting it so hard.
This is the view I missed by having her against the table. It feels like I’ve committed a crime.
My eyes continue to trail lower. Her breasts are rising with each breath, and my shirt is pushed up, showing an inch of her stomach.
I’ve yet to see what this woman looks like beneath all these clothes. She’s gorgeous, and we both know it. I bet the rest of her is just as pretty. My mouth waters at just the thought of it.
When I look down at the loop of the drawstrings keeping the sweats up, I lick my lips.
“Eliza.” Dragging her name out, I feel the knot in my chest grow tighter. “I’m going to tie you up to my bed if that’s what it’s going to take you to stay. However, it would be far easier if you are willing to stay on your own. So tell me, what’s it going to take to convince you to change your mind?”
She blinks her eyes, staring up at me. She tortures me, not giving an answer quickly enough. Soon, her brows narrow. “You’re giving me a choice?”
I’m trying to, but my patience is wearing thinner by the second. The longer I look at her, the more I’m wanting to get my hands and mouth on her.
“Yes.” The word comes out like gravel, catching in my throat. “What will it take?”
When her mouth slowly curves into a hint of a smile, I start to question if those waterworks were actually crocodile tears.
If she fucking thinks to ask to reverse what has already been done, then I’m going to roar like a beast and wake up this whole fucking estate with my frustration.
Instead, she parts her plump lips. “Show me how sorry you really are.”
I might struggle with my words when it comes to her, but show, I can do.