10. Eliza
10
Eliza
Thanks to those silly romance books Bia promises are the best thing in the world, I’ve realized that the reason I don’t want to leave this place is because I care about my captor. My husband.
From the way he’s looking at me now, it might as well settle my suspicions I have about him. He wants me too. That weight behind his stare, the hunger filling his eyes, it’s all coming together.
This man looks like he wants to devour me whole. How can one look from a man be my undoing?
My underwear feels slick against my pussy, soaked with my arousal.
The whole time I sat by my lonesome, waiting for Urzo to find me, I tried to figure out a way to invite him to do something that wasn’t just sex.
I didn’t expect to see him with the smell of blood and death clinging to him. Whatever work he was doing before finding me is pretty obvious. A little part of me hoped remembering who he was would help scare me straight. Instead, I figured out what I wanted to do.
I wanted to help him get rid of all of it. Sure, a shower is only going to end up one way, but it’s an excuse to let me touch him. To get a bit of control back.
Getting this man to drop to his knees isn’t my goal here. However, I want to get my hands on him.
Once Urzo is happy with taking me in from afar, he steps closer. I expect him to throw me over his shoulder and just head to the bathroom. But no, this man isn’t done staring just yet. He’s taking in my body up close.
In my family, I’ve always been the pretty one. I watched what I ate, bought the best brands of makeup, and put a lot of work on my appearance. Rocco never encouraged my behaviors, but he knew the men he invited into our home for business noticed. I’m sure they’ve even asked for my hand, but Rocco was smart.
He wouldn’t dare marry me off unless it benefited him.
Unfortunately, my beauty only gave them the impression that I was a good girl. Obedient and hell, probably the perfect woman to expand their family. All it took was opening my mouth to ruin the image all of them painted.
I’ve opened my mouth plenty around this man, and he still looks at me the same. Well, maybe not the same as he did the first time he found me threatening his men as I charged head-on to save Camellia. The annoyance and disdain aren’t there anymore. Rather, it’s melted away. Now every time I look into his eyes, it’s always a heat melting in the pool of darkness.
My breath catches when he reaches out. His thumb brushes the space between my breasts. They’re not huge or anything, but without a bra giving them a little boost, they’re smaller than I like. I prepare myself for a remark from him, but he doesn’t speak.
No, this man’s brows are furrowed like he’s trying to figure out a difficult puzzle here.
As he moves to cup one of my breasts, my nipples tighten into peaks beneath his gaze. I shiver as he squeezes my breast.
Toes curling into the carpet, my blush spreads lower as I try to figure out what he’s thinking. I hate that I can’t tell from his unreadable expression. Finally, I huff. “What?”
His eyes flick from my rosy buds up to the growing frustration on my face. “You’re beautiful.”
Just like that, I have to fight not to double over. He might as well have punched me in the gut with the way my lungs feel like the air has been stolen right out of them.
I’ve been called beautiful, pretty, and gorgeous all my life by men I wanted nothing to do with.
Urzo says it, and it’s like the compliment has a whole new meaning. He says it in a way that doesn’t make me feel like a doll or a side piece.
“I got my looks from my father. He passed on good genes,” I murmur as I feel every inch of his fingers dragging down my stomach. Soon, he’s hooking a finger against the waistband of my underwear.
“Can’t say the same.” Grunting, he soon groans under his breath when he has to peel the fabric off of me. “You’re soaked, Eliza.”
I’m starting to really like it when this man says my name. Everything that is coming out of his mouth are all the right words. He’s running a streak now.
As my underwear hit my ankles, I kick them away and lift my arms. Wrapping them around his neck, he easily scoops me up. My fingers twitch, itching to get his clothes off of him as well. It’s only fair. I can’t be the only one naked here.
Taking me to the bathroom, the coolness of the sink counter stings my flushed sex as he sets me down long enough to turn on the shower to let it heat. Once he moves back, I’m reaching out to coax him to return between my knees.
“You all wear these shirts,” I murmur as I run my fingers along the buttons. “I bet you have to constantly buy replacements. The buttons pop too easily.”
I could prove my point, yanking the shirt open to reveal what he’s hiding beneath. Though there’s something about the way his chest swells when I touch him. Like he can’t get enough of having my hands on him. So, I unbutton one at a time until the entire row is open and left as flaps of fabric.
He doesn’t blink. Not once. When I push at his shirt, he helps shrug it off. Hearing the shirt hit the ground, I’m too distracted to move straight toward his slacks.
Urzo’s chest bears many marks. Scars both old and new welcome my gaze, each telling its own story.
I know what bullet wounds and stabbings look like, even after they’ve healed. I might not have been on the front line, but I’ve seen members of my family bloody up carpets.
He makes this low-throaty groan when I ghost the indent against his ribs. A past bullet wound that had to have shattered the rib right beneath it. Must’ve been painful.
“You look like you’ve thrown yourself into the face of danger,” I murmur with a slow shake of my head. “You… can’t do that anymore.”
Sure, my word means nothing, but I’m opening myself up here. I can’t say I want Urzo to get himself killed. I know he was willing to marry me for his family, and I’m sure he had done anything else in the past for them as well. But now, things have changed.
He’s got me now, someone who expects him to live. Plus, what if kids become a thing in the future? The last handful of years without my parents were chaotic. I wouldn’t want to put my son or daughter through that.
“No more front lining. Be a general or something.” I don’t know how it works, but he’s got to make safer choices. He can play his role from the background and give orders. Something like his brother does.
I guess I really don’t want him to die.
He grunts again, and I struggle to take in what the meaning is.
“Urzo. Seriously, promise me. Tell me you won’t put yourself in danger on purpose.” It’s a big ask, I get it. Even stranger coming from me, I’m sure it’s crazy to think he’d listen to what I have to say.
He’s always done whatever his brother wanted. Whatever he needed. If Santino asked him to jump off a bridge and I asked him to walk across, which would he do?
Am I being silly for hoping he’d pick me over the rest?
“I won’t do anything unnecessary,” he finally agrees, sighing softly as he pinches my hair between his fingers. “I promise I’ll come back every night.”
“Unharmed, I hope?” My throat feels a little tight, and I’m not a fan of the foreign feeling of being worried about someone that isn’t Camellia.
“Alive. I can promise that I’ll be breathing.” His thumb tickles the spot behind my ear. “You know I can’t promise anything more than that unless I leave this life altogether. I was born to keep everyone safe. Now, you’re included in that bunch. Sorry to say, but if anyone wanted to take you away from me…”
He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. I can hear the threat in his voice, the promise to cause others pain if they dared to touch something that is his.
He’ll end up with more scars on his body; I’m sure of it. More stories will be there to tell.
Lifting my gaze, I take in the first scar I ever saw on this guy. The one decorating his mouth. Starting right below his bottom lip, it drags along both lips and traces up to his cheekbone. Through the beard hair decorating his jaw, hair doesn’t grow on the line.
The first time I looked at him and saw it, I couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated. However, now that I’ve spent so much time with him, I hardly even notice it.
He notices my stare, and it’s like I’ve hosed down the fire between us. His frown is back, but thankfully, he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t flinch when I touch the line with my thumb, but he doesn’t lean into my touch either.
“How did it happen?” I ask, taking in the gash against his mouth. It’s harsh-looking despite being healed. It isn’t new, but it’s not as white as the others. Still a little pink, I wonder if it still hurts.
Then again, no one has ever cut me with a knife before.
“One of yours did it. Parada got me by surprise,” he answers without taking a moment to think. No, he remembers well enough to hold a grudge for it. “Tried to slit my throat, but failed. He missed, if you can’t tell.”
His humor is dry, and he doesn’t even bother trying to force out a laugh.
I suppose looking at himself in the mirror every day would give him a constant reminder.
“Bend down,” I order as I pull on his shoulders. Surprisingly, he doesn’t argue. “It won’t mean much, but I’m sorry it happened. If it means anything, it adds to your rugged appeal.” Leaning in, I kiss the mark and sigh softly. “I don’t mind it.”
“Everyone minds it,” he rasps as he pulls back to look at me. “Compared to you, I look like a monster.”
Moving to cradle his cheeks, I shake my head. “Fuck everyone else. I like how you look. Even if your nose is a little crooked, or you’re a big brute, I don’t mind one bit.”
I shouldn’t have to convince him. Not when my body is giving all the telltale signs.
He doesn’t call me a liar or ask for any proof. No, this man rumbles from deep inside. My words must be what set him off because he’s shoving his fingers into my hair and pulling my head back to kiss me again.
For a minute, I forget what I’m supposed to be doing. Urzo knows how to make my thoughts disappear whenever he’s near. However, all it takes is feeling his erection digging into my leg to remember.
Fumbling down, I yank at his belt and grunt when his buckle hits my wrist. The pain doesn’t last, not when he’s pulling at my lips with his teeth and licking where it stings.
Huffing out of frustration and impatience, I’m finally yanking down his zipper.
“Help me,” I hiss against his mouth. “I want you, damn it.”
A chuckle comes from him, a deep rumble that sounds so foreign, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve imagined it.
He doesn’t pull away, but he moves his hands away to help shove off his pants and boxers. Losing count of our kisses, I gasp as he scoops me up.
“If you drop me, I will kill you,” I threaten him as I cling onto his broad shoulders. We both know he won’t, but no amount of strength can save us from stepping on something slippery.
“Keep sweet talking to me. I’m starting to love it.” Carrying me right beneath the stream, his body absorbs the heat as he presses me to the wall. Still not satisfied, he kisses my lips until they feel swollen before moving his mouth to my jaw, then my ear.
My body sings for each scrape of his teeth, and I groan as he slowly lets me down. Once I’m standing on solid footing, he cups my breast once more and pinches my nipple.
Fuck, aren’t we supposed to be cleaning up? We’re going to use up all the hot water if I keep letting him go at it. At the same time, it feels too good to tell him to stop.
“You drive me insane,” he groans as he presses my breasts together and soaks up the view. “Can’t get you out of my head. Even when I try to distract myself, you’re always there, even when you’re not.”
“We must be the same, then.” Shivering as he moves his touch to my sides next, I arch against the tile. “Couldn’t have worded it better myself.”
Just to tease him and drive him even crazier, I brush his hands away. Reaching out to grab his bar of soap, I press it to the middle of his chest. “Time to clean up.”
Watching his nostrils flare and his brows come together, he doesn’t move. Rather than not wanting to clean up, he lets me glide the bar against his skin.
He wants me to wash him.
Knowing how badly I’ve wanted to touch him, I don’t complain. Once I’ve got enough suds gathered against his skin, I abandon the bar and rub the suds into his skin.
“Will you wash my hair?” Wanting his hands on me too, I know there’s nothing more sensual than washing each other.
He nods and lures me beneath the stream to soak my hair. When it’s not braided, it’s long enough to brush the middle of my back. From the way he touches the dark strands, I’m willing to bet Urzo’s a fan.
Though, I bet he’d be more of a fan when it’s wrapped around his fist. The thought alone is enough to make me shiver.
Maneuvering around so he can grab his shampoo and coat my hair in its scent, I groan in the back of his throat as his thick fingers scrub at my scalp.
“Are you trying to torture me?” He sighs as he shakes his head. “All those little sounds add up.”
Biting back my smile, I shake my head. I’m not trying to make him suffer. Not this time. However, all I have to do is lower my gaze to see the way his cock thickens, bobbing between his thick thighs. Every time I look at him, it’s a reminder of how big he is. Big everywhere.
It’s insane.
He curses under his breath when I drag one of my hands down his stomach. Following the dark patch of hair below his belly button, I spread suds toward his cock. Watching him through my eyelashes, I wrap my fingers around his erection and give him a squeeze.
The way he thrusts into my grip is enough to make us both groan. My pussy clenches in jealousy, and I can’t stop the next smile from slipping through.
“Needs washed if you want it anywhere near me,” I murmur as I begin to stroke him. Feeling his racing pulse against my fingers encourages me to grow bolder.
Urzo groans softly before planting his hand on the wall to support his weight. Forgetting all about my hair, his face pinches in concentration. Between us, he watches as my hand moves. His jaw flexes as he tries to hold back any moans.
I want to make this man feel good. I want to watch him unfold and fall apart. Like a brick wall craving in.
With my other hand, I cup his balls and give them a light squeeze hoping to do something.
His eyes flash, and the growl that leaves his lips makes my knees wobble. Just when I think I’ve done something wrong, he groans my name before spurts of white hit my stomach. I watch in pure fascination as I milk his cock of every drop of release.
Against my tanned skin, the white practically glows. Unfortunately as it is, the shower stream doesn’t take long to wash it away.
Before I can even feel victorious, he’s dragging me back to the water to wash the shampoo out of my hair.
I’ve never seen this man desperate before, but he’s in a rush to get out of the shower.
With what he looks like he wants to do to me, I’m just as impatient to do the same.