34. Rork
34
RORK
T he weeks following the cougar attack are a blur of pain and healing, of long days spent confined to my bed as my body slowly knits itself back together. But through it all, there’s one constant, one bright spot that makes even the most frustrating moments bearable.
Bianca.
She’s taken on the role of my caretaker, and I have to admit, she’s damn good at it. She’s bossy as hell, always fluffing my pillows and ordering me around like she’s the queen of the castle. But there’s a tenderness to her touch, a warmth in her eyes that belies the sharpness of her tongue.
“Hold still,” she scolds me one afternoon as she carefully peels back the bandages covering my wounds. “I swear, you’re worse than a damn child sometimes.”
I grit my teeth as the fabric pulls at my tender flesh, a hiss of pain escaping my lips. “Maybe if you were a little gentler, I wouldn’t have to squirm so much.”
She just rolls her eyes, her hands steady as she cleans the gashes with a stinging antiseptic. “Oh, don’t be such a baby. You’ve been through worse than this.”
She’s right, of course. I have been through worse. But there’s something about her touch, about the way she looks at me with such fierce protectiveness in her gaze, that makes me feel vulnerable in a way I never have before.
As much as I hate to be inactive and long to be back on my feet, I find myself savoring these moments with Bianca. The long hours spent talking, reading together and laughing… and other things, the quiet intimacy of letting her see me at my weakest and most exposed.
It’s been a long time since anyone has cared for me like this, since anyone has shown me such genuine affection and concern. And as uncomfortable as it is, as much as it goes against every instinct I have, I find myself craving it, needing it like a plant needs water and sunlight to thrive.
But it’s not all tender moments and gentle touches. Bianca is competitive as fuck, and I discover this firsthand during a heated game of cards one evening.
“Gin!” I crow, laying down my hand with a triumphant grin.
Bianca’s face falls, her eyes narrowing as she stares down at the cards in disbelief. “No way. Fuck off. You must have cheated.”
I can’t help but laugh, the sound rich and warm in the stillness of the room. “Aww, don’t be a sore loser, Princess. It’s not a good look on you.”
But Bianca is having none of it. With a growl of frustration, she throws her cards down on the bed, scattering them everywhere. “This is bullshit. I demand a rematch.”
I lean back against the pillows, my smirk only growing wider. “Anytime, anywhere, sweetheart. But I gotta warn you, I’m pretty much unbeatable.”
Bianca just glares at me, her cheeks flushed with anger and something else, something that makes my pulse quicken and my blood run hot. “We’ll see about that,” she mutters before storming off to the bathroom and slamming the door behind her.
Is she seriously throwing a tantrum over losing?
I chuckle to myself, shaking my head in amused disbelief. I should have known that the feisty Bianca Marino would be a fiery little competitor and a horrible loser.
But as I listen to the sound of her muttering to herself through the bathroom door, I realize that I’ve never been happier. These past few weeks have been challenging and painful, but they’ve also been the most fulfilling of my life. Because for the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel like I have something to live for. Something to fight for, beyond just my own selfish desire and petty vendettas.
I have Bianca, and as terrifying as it is, as much as it goes against everything I thought I knew about myself, I know that I would do anything, anything, to keep her by my side. To make her happy, to see that fierce, competitive light in her eyes and that soft, tender smile on her lips.
* * *
The day the doctor finally clears me to leave my bed, I feel like a man reborn. After weeks of being cooped up, the freedom to move and stretch and breathe deeply is a heady thing.
As I make my way down to the study where Liam is waiting for our daily strategy meeting, I realize that something has shifted. The dynamic between Bianca and me has changed. It’s evolved into something new, something that feels suspiciously like partnership.
I find myself seeking her out again, finding her in the library, sprawled over a couch as she reads a book.
God, she looks so enticing.
I clear my throat, and Bianca looks up, her eyes widening when she sees me.
“What are you doing up?” she asks, putting her book down as she sits up. She pushes her glossy hair back, and my eyes track her every move. God, what I wouldn’t do to run my hands through her hair right now.
“Doctor said I’m free to get up,” I say. Unable to help myself, I continue, “Thank God, because now I don’t have to listen to you read me mind-numbing junk anymore.”
Bianca sticks her tongue out at me. “You definitely enjoyed my romance novels,” she counters.
“Oh, yeah, because I definitely loved listening to Fernando stick his—what was it again?— ‘velvet-wrapped steel’ into Sabrina’s warm love box.” I shudder at the descriptors. “That alone set back my recovery. It’s a miracle the doctor even allowed me out of bed.”
Bianca smiles smugly and leans back in her seat, watching me like a cat would a canary. “You said I could pick out whatever book I wanted,” she drawls, her blue eyes alight with mischief. “Guess you should have been a little more specific if there were stipulations.”
I can’t help the smile that crosses my lips. I could get used to this—verbally sparring with Bianca with none of the venom that normally comes from our encounters. “From now on, I’m picking out the books,” I retort. “But that’s not why I sought you out. Would you like to join me in my meetings?”
“Really?” Bianca’s mouth drops open in shock. “You’re serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
She scrambles to her feet, hands clasped in front of her. “It’s just—Papa never let any of us girls in his meetings. Said they were ‘too dangerous’ and ‘not suitable for a young woman’s ears,’” she intones in a perfect imitation of Nico.
I roll my eyes. Nico really wants his daughters to be ignorant. “I don’t subscribe to that notion. So, do you want to join me or not?”
To my surprise and delight, she accepts. She joins me in my meeting with Liam (who raises an eyebrow when he sees Bianca but wisely chooses not to say anything), her eyes sharp and her mind quick as she takes in every detail of our operations.
“What do you think about expanding our territory to the north?” I ask her as we pore over a map of the city’s underworld. “There’s a lot of untapped potential there. Lots of room for growth.”
Bianca frowns, biting her lip as her finger traces a line along the map’s edge. “It’s risky,” she says, her voice thoughtful. “The Rossi Family has a strong foothold in that area. They won’t take kindly to us encroaching on their turf.”
Us . Not you . Something about that makes my heart sing.
Liam nods, his expression grim. “She’s right, Boss. We’d be starting a war, one that could cost us a lot of men and resources.”
But Bianca isn’t finished. “On the other hand,” she continues, her blue eyes gleaming with a calculating light, “if we can find a way to negotiate with the Rossis, to come to some sort of agreement, it could be a lucrative partnership for the both of us.”
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth, a rush of pride and admiration swelling in my chest. “That’s my girl,” I murmur, my hand coming to rest on the small of her back. “Always thinking two steps ahead.”
Liam shoots me a surprised look, his eyebrows raised at the casual intimacy of the gesture. But he knows better than to comment and question the bond that’s grown between Bianca and me.
But as the days turn to weeks, I find myself relying on her more and more. Not just for her strategic mind and her keen insights, but for her companionship, her laughter, her warmth, the way she makes me feel like I’m more than just a ruthless crime lord with blood on my hands.
She becomes my confidante, my partner in every sense of the world. As we sit together in the evenings, sipping wine and talking about everything and nothing, I realize that I’ve never been happier. That the emptiness that once consumed me, the rage and the pain and the bitter loneliness…
It’s gone, replaced by a sense of contentment, of purpose that I never knew was possible.
And when Bianca leans in close, her lips brushing against mine in a kiss that’s both tender and full of promise, I know that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
That she’s the missing piece of my soul, the other half of my heart.
* * *
I wake slowly, the first rays of dawn filtering through the curtains and casting a warm, golden glow over the room. For a moment, I simply lie there, savoring the feeling of Bianca’s body pressed against mine, the soft rise and fall of her breathing as she sleeps.
But as I hold her close, letting my fingers trail gently over the smooth curve of her shoulders, I find myself remembering something she said to me once when I was recovering.
I’ve always loved physical challenges, you know? My father, he never let me pursue them. Said it wasn’t fitting for a woman of my station.
The memory sparks an idea in my mind, a sudden, reckless impulse that I can’t shake. And before I can second-guess myself, I’m leaning in close, my lips brushing against Bianca’s in a long, languid kiss.
She stirs beneath me, a soft moan escaping her lips as she arches into my touch. And for a moment, I’m tempted to deepen the kiss, to let myself get into the passion that always seems to simmer just beneath the surface when we’re together.
But I force myself to pull back, to meet her gaze with a smile that’s both tender and full of mischief. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” I murmur, my voice low and rough with desire. “I have a proposition for you.”
Bianca raises an eyebrow, her eyes still heavy with sleep but sparkling with curiosity. “Oh? And what might that be?”
I grin, my hand sliding down to rest on the curve of her hip. “I was thinking… how would you like to work out with me this morning? It’s been a while since I’ve had a good sparring session, and I’m desperate to move my body.”
Her eyes widen, a flash of excitement crossing her face. “Really? You want to train with me?”
I nod, my smile growing wider. God, she’s so beautiful. “Of course. I remember what you said about loving physical challenges. And I thought… who better to push me to my limits than the woman who pushes my buttons on a daily basis?”
Bianca laughs, a sound that’s both joyful and full of anticipation. “You’re on, Rork. Just let me change into my workout clothes.”
She slips out of bed, and I watch with appreciative eyes as she strips off her nightgown and reaches for a pair of tight, form-fitting leggings and a sports bra. The sight of her body, all lean muscle and soft curves, is enough to make my blood heat up and send a rush of desire coursing through my veins. My dick stirs at the sight.
But I force myself to focus, to push aside my constant need for her. This is important. She needs to learn how to defend herself, how to fight and survive in the world we live in. I can’t believe Nico would leave his daughters defenseless, but it tracks.
But my girl won’t be defenseless. I believe in her strength and her capability.
“I’m so excited,” Bianca says as we head downstairs, nearly bouncing as we near the gym. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to fight.”
“I’m happy to teach you,” I say as I open the door and let her in, watching her expression as she takes in my state-of-the-art gym. “I like strong women, and I can only see the benefits of showing you how to fight. You never know when you’ll need to use these skills.”
We face each other on the training mats. Bianca’s eyes are bright with determination, her body poised and ready as she takes in my every move with laser-like focus.
“Alright,” I say, my voice echoing through the empty room. “Let’s start with some basic self-defense. I want you to imagine that I’m an attacker, coming at you from behind.”
Bianca nods, her expression serious as she shifts into a defensive stance, her braided hair falling over her shoulder. I move behind her, my hands coming to rest lightly on her shoulders.
“The first thing you want to do is use your attacker’s momentum against them,” I murmur, my breath ghosting over the shell of her ear, causing her to shiver. “When they grab you, don’t resist. Instead, let yourself fall forward, using your body weight to throw them off balance.”
I demonstrate the move, my hands tightening on her shoulders as I pull her back against my chest. Bianca follows my lead, letting herself fall forward and twisting out of my grip with a fluid, graceful motion.
“Good,” I praise, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Now, let’s try something a little more advanced.”
We spend the next hour running through drills and techniques, my hands guiding Bianca’s body as I show her how to block, strike, and grapple. She’s a quick study, her movements growing more confident and precise with each passing minute.
She’s a fighter, through and through, and I feel a rush of something that goes beyond mere attraction or desire.
It’s respect. Admiration. A soul-deep recognition of the strength and the courage that burn within her like a flame.
And when she finally manages to perfect a move that brings us both down to the mats, her body pinning mine to the ground in a moment of breathless triumph, I can’t help but smile up at her, my heart swelling with a fierce, undeniable pride.
“Well done, Bianca,” I murmur, my hands coming to rest on her hips as she straddles my waist. “You’re a natural.”
But even as the words leave my lips, I feel the air between us shift, growing heavy and charged with a tension that has nothing to do with combat training.
Bianca’s eyes darken, her lips parting slightly as she leans down over me. I’m acutely aware of every point of contact between our bodies, of the heat and the electricity that spark and crackle like a live wire.
“Rork,” she breathes, her voice low and rough with desire. “I…”
But before she can finish her thought, I’m surging up to meet her, my lips capturing hers in a kiss that’s both fierce and tender. Bianca melts into me, her hands fisting in my hair as she deepens the kiss, her tongue sliding hot and slick against my own.
I groan into her mouth, the taste of her driving me wild.
Her body melts into mine, every inch of her fitting against me perfectly. The heat between us is electric, the kind that makes my heart race and my blood boil. I grip her waist, pulling her even closer, needing to feel her against me. She responds eagerly, her movements bold and unapologetic.
What starts as a steamy kiss quickly escalates. My hands roam over her sweaty back, feeling the smooth expanse of her skin. I flip her over, pinning her beneath me in one swift motion, and she gasps, her eyes wide with surprise and desire.
“You’re playing with fire,” I murmur against her lips, but she only smirks, her defiance igniting something primal within me.
“Then burn me,” she challenges, her voice breathless.
That’s all the encouragement I need. I kiss her hard, our tongues tangling in a heated dance. My hands slide down to her hips, gripping them as I press my body against hers. The feel of her under me, so responsive and eager, makes my head spin.
I tear at her clothes, needing to feel her bare skin against mine. She does the same, her hands frantically working to undress me. Soon, we’re both naked, our bodies pressed together in a frenzy of desire.
The cold floor of the sparring ring contrasts sharply with the heat of our bodies. I slide my hands down her sides, marveling at the way she arches into my touch. My fingers find their way between her thighs, and she moans, her hips bucking against my hand as I find her clit.
“Rork,” she gasps, her voice filled with need.
I can’t resist any longer. I position myself at her entrance and push inside, groaning at the feel of her tight, wet heat surrounding me. She cries out, her nails digging into my shoulders, but I don’t stop. I set a relentless pace, each thrust driving us both closer to the edge.
“Bianca,” I rasp, my voice rough with desire. “Bianca— fuck —you feel so good.”
She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper, her body matching mine with each thrust. The intensity of our connection, the raw passion between us, is overwhelming. I lean down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her cries of pleasure.
The world fades away, leaving only the two of us in this moment. The sparring ring, the cold floor, the world outside—it all disappears. All that matters is the feel of her around me, the sound of her moans, the way her body responds to mine.
I can feel her tensing beneath me, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She’s close, and the thought pushes me over the edge. With one final thrust, we both shatter, our cries of release mingling in the air.
We lie there, panting and spent, our bodies tangled together. I look down at her, seeing the satisfaction and contentment in her eyes. She’s a vision, her hair unbound from her braid and spread around her, her skin flushed and glowing.
“You’re amazing,” I murmur, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
She smiles up at me, her blue eyes shining. “You’re not so bad yourself, Rork.”
I chuckle, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “This is only the beginning, Bianca. There’s so much more I want to do with you.”
She shivers, her eyes darkening with desire. “I can’t wait.”