Chapter 52 Tommy
The lobby of Dragovari Tower hums with the annual New Year’s Eve gala: champagne chatter, the scrape of silverware, a string quartet swelling in the background.
Councilman Donovan is chatting with my date, who is talking about her charity work, but I can’t hear a word.
Because I feel her, that prickling under my skin, that sixth sense that never fails me when it comes to her.
My Gi.
My eyes lock on Antonio Abbiati. Tony the Motherfucking Hack to me even though no one else calls him that anymore.
If he’s here, she’s here, but he’s in a circle of men and she’s nowhere around.
My pulse spikes as I feel her watching me before I see her.
When I scan the crowd, my gaze slams into hers, my chest tightens, and it feels like the room goes silent.
She’s staring at me from across the ballroom, and Christ, her eyes…
I can read everything in them. I swear I’m not imagining it.
Ache. Hunger. Anguish. That sharp edge of longing that she’s trying like hell to bury but can’t.
My throat works, dry, and the woman on my arm squeezes my hand.
Donovan notices and pauses mid-sentence when he follows my gaze.
“Ah,” the councilman chuckles. “Giovanna Marino. You’d like an introduction?
”
I can’t even form words. I look at him, dumbfounded.
He’s met my girl. But he doesn’t recognize her?
Or does he, and he’s giving me an out?
He grins like he’s doing me a favor, ignoring the way my date stiffens, and he ushers us forward.
My pulse roars in my ears. When we reach her, Donovan’s sharp enough to catch the pull between me and Gi after he makes the introduction, and clears his throat.
Donovan turns to my date. “My dear, I happen to know some lovely people over here who I know would love to hear more about what you’re doing at your charity.
Come with me.”
When we’re left alone, Giovanna is shaking, but she doesn’t speak, and I can’t take it.
I grab her arm and drag her down a hall into a dining room full of tables set with full place settings, bread baskets, and decanters of olive oil next to the salt and pepper and wait staff putting on the final touches.
“Leave,” I bark, and they scatter.
I wait for her to speak.
Tears spill down her cheeks, and she licks her bottom lip.
“Tommy…” Her voice cracks.
That’s all it takes.
I fold around her, holding her tight as if I could fuse her to me.
My hands roam over her body, desperate, starving, as I bury my face in her neck, breathing her in, groaning against her skin.
“Does this mean you’re coming home, sweet girl?
” My voice shreds. “Everything’s like you left it.
Waiting for you. Are you coming home to me?
”
She gives a small anguished cry, and I push her back enough that I can see her face.
Immediately, my hope splinters. She’s not coming back to me.
She’s not coming home.
“You’re still with him, aren’t you?
Fuck.” My grip on her tightens, and my voice sharpens.
“So why are you here? What do you want?”
She frames my face with her hands, staring up at me, crying.
She kisses me, deep, wet, desperate, breaking me apart.
With her mouth on mine, she whispers, “I miss you. I miss you so much. You’re my home, Tommy.
You’re the only place I’ve ever belonged.
I’ve felt like a stranger in my own life for so long—”
Confusion claws at me, and I take hold of her hands, pushing her back from me.
“But you’re fucking him.”
She shakes her head, fierce.
“No, I’m not. I can’t. I’ve only been with you, Tommy.
”
I feel blindsided. I don’t know how to process this.
A year with him, and they haven’t fucked?
I can’t imagine keeping my hands off her for one night much less a year.
“You’ve been with him all this time and he hasn’t touched you?
”
She looks almost embarrassed, and it clicks, ugly and sharp.
My lip curls in a sneer.
“I know what this is. You’re not getting what you need from your boy, so you thought you’d get it from your man?
That it? You told me in the beginning you only wanted to fuck me and now that you’re with him, you think you can come back and get fucked when it suits you?
”
“No, Tommy! I’m not—”
I grab her jaw and kiss her hard, biting her lip until she bleeds and roughly smooth back her hair.
“Let’s handle this once and for all, Giovanna.
”
Gripping her face, I shove her down to her knees.
She doesn’t protest. Instead, her eyes round, her nails dig into my thighs, and her jaw drops open as I pull out my cock, already hard for her.
Always hard for her.
I yank her bottom lip down, forcing her mouth open wide and grab the back of her head, shoving my cock into the back of her throat until she gags.
I fuck her mouth hard, brutal, as she moans and chokes, spit dripping down her chin.
I pull out of her mouth and rub cock dripping wet and messy over her lips, then all over her face, smearing her makeup.
She darts her tongue out to drag it along the shaft while I do it, our eyes locked on each other, until I can’t take it anymore.
I shove into her mouth again, fuck her deeply, gripping her hair with both hands and forcing her to keep her throat filled until she gags and vomits champagne on me.
I pull out again and drag my cock over her face, her mascara running down her cheeks, her lipstick smeared on her face and on me.
I smirk. “This what you came for?”
She’s panting, her chest heaving, unable to speak, and I grip the back of her head again and fuck her face like it was her pussy, pounding her until I’m about to come.
I pull out and yank her hair back so that she is looking up at me and jerk myself off, adding spurts of cum to the champagne and spit and makeup mess coating her face.
I stand back as she gasps for breath, and pull out my phone.
“Smile for the camera, sweet girl,” I say mockingly and she stares back at me with wide wet eyes, still breathing hard.
Ruined. Beautiful.
As I text the picture to the person who needs to see it, she raises her fingers to her face to wipe her mouth, and I smack her hand away.
“Leave it. Don’t you dare wipe it off. I’m going to fuck you with my cum dripping off your face like the whore you want so badly to be.
”
I lift her up to standing and turn her harshly, bending her over one of the dinner tables, the dishes crashing to the ground.
Yanking up her dress, I rip off her thong and shove it in my pocket, then bring the flat of my palm swiftly down with a loud crack across her ass.
She yelps, and I keep going, spanking her hard, one cheek then the other, each slap echoing in the room, over and over and over until her ass is bright red.
“Tommy!”
Growling, I continue spanking her until her hands are scrabbling at mine, trying to fend me off.
“I wanted to make you my wife, Giovanna. But I guess you’d rather be a fucking whore than a wife.
”
I pull her to standing and turn her to face me, yanking her dress straps off her shoulders.
“Take off your dress.” My voice is dark, low, and she doesn’t argue.
Shaking, she does as she’s told, her face glistening, tears adding to the wetness on her face.
As soon as her dress pools on the floor, I push her onto her back on the table.
“Grab your ankles. Knees by your ears.”
She obeys, eyes glassy, pupils blown wide.
The fucking most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen: Giovanna on her back, spread open for me, waiting for my next command.
I grab the decanter of olive oil from the table and pour it over her pussy and ass, then massage it in as her eyes roll back in her head at my touch and she moans.
Closing my eyes, I push my fingers into her pussy, letting her grip me, squeeze me, rubbing my thumb over her clit as she writhes beneath my hands.
When I pull out, she whimpers, and I open my eyes, stroking my cock so that the olive oil coats me as much as it does her.
Without warning, I push inside her ass, raw, pounding out a year’s worth of rage and confusion and anguish, the dishes on the table falling and breaking.
She’s right there with me, gripping her ankles, screaming my name as I fuck her ass and smack her pussy.
It’s not long before she’s coming in waves until she is limp and exhausted.
Only then do I spill inside her with a groan that reverberates through both of us.
As I lean over her, chest to chest, palms planted on either side of her head, while she slowly releases her legs, we stare at each other.
Then the door slams open, and Antonio barrels in.
Staying where I am on top of her, still inside her, I pull my gun from my waistband holster and aim it steadily at his chest. “Move again and this ends right here.”
He stops, glaring at me, his eyes darting to Giovanna, fury on his face.
I can’t even take pleasure in cucking him right now.
He has no idea what’s coming.
I stand pulling out of her and take the water pitcher, pouring it over one of the linen napkins.
“Nice of you to join us,” I say, cleaning myself off before tucking my dick back in my pants, gun still leveled at Antonio.
“My understanding is that you have been with my girl here for over a year and you have yet to fuck her the way she needs to be fucked.”
“That’s none of your fucking business, Tommy,” Antonio growls.
I keep my eyes and my gun steadily on him as I move closer.
“Giovanna, get on your hands and knees.”
She doesn’t even look at Antonio.
I can feel her eyes locked on me as she slides off the table onto her knees and then all fours, her ass glowing red and dripping my cum.
Antonio snarls. “Fuck you, Tommy.”
I ignore him.
“Crawl to your man, Giovanna.”
She starts to move toward me, and I shake my head, waving the gun at Antonio.
“Not me. I’m not your man. You chose him, remember?
Crawl to him,” I order, my voice flat.
She pinches her lips between her teeth as tears slide down her cheeks, but she obeys, her face still slick and dripping with my cum.
Antonio explodes with rage. “Giovanna, get the fuck up. Do not fucking listen to him! You don’t talk to her like that, Tommy!
You don’t touch her like that. She’s going to be my wife.
”
The last words are strangled as he watches her make her way to him then stop and sit up in front of him, kneeling.
The words punch through me, and I stop breathing.
I stare at her profile as she bows her head, tears streaking her face.
My voice is razor thin. “Is that true?”
She can’t speak, just squeezes her eyes shut and cries.
Her silence cuts worse than any words could.
Antonio answers for her. “Yes, it’s true.
It’s what the boss wants.”
Something twists deep inside me, burning and black.
My father did this. He’s handing my girl over to Antonio like she’s nothing.
Like I’m nothing.
“Why?” I grind out.
Antonio shifts uncomfortably, still staring at Gi.
“He wants me in place at Luminous. I guess he doesn’t want you distracted, and he definitely doesn’t want you with her.
Her father agrees.”
The world narrows to an icy point, and I cock the gun, a sneer curling my lips.
“Then consider this your engagement present.”