17. Evelyn
“If you’re finished, I’ll show you what I ordered for you,” Massimo said when I set down my fork. I hadn’t spoken to him while I’d eaten, too consumed by my own conflicted thoughts about how I would escape. And how exposed I would be if I managed to run from my dark protector.
Somehow, I would get back to America, away from the cartels, away from George. Away from Massimo.
I’d kept my eyes downcast so that he wouldn’t be able to read my thoughts—a skill that disconcerted me. I couldn’t lie to him, so I couldn’t risk him suspecting that I still planned to run at the first opportunity.
But now that he’d spoken to me, my eyes lifted to his. They glittered with anticipation, and his lips curved with a hint of pleasure. Whatever he’d purchased for me, the prospect of giving it to me excited him.
Unease stirred in my gut. In my experience, gifts always came with a price, a debt I couldn’t pay.
I didn’t want to owe Massimo anything.
“Whatever it is, I don’t need it,” I replied, shrugging off his offer.
His gaze trailed over my body in a lazy, indulgent appraisal. I became acutely aware that his thin cotton shirt was all that concealed my nakedness. His attention made warmth bloom beneath the surface of my skin, and my cheeks heated.
“Do you want to go to the party wearing only my shirt?” he rumbled. “Believe me, I wouldn’t mind at all. That way, everyone will know you’re mine.”
His massive body seemed to swell, his powerful muscles flexing with something like pride.
I swallowed down the protest that teased at the tip of my tongue: I wasn’t his.
But the other things he’d said were too important for me to argue over that misconception at the moment.
“What party?” I asked. “I don’t want to meet any of your cartel friends.” The prospect of being surrounded by criminals made a shadow of my fear flutter at the back of my mind. I did my best to ignore it; I couldn’t afford the distraction of further emotional turmoil. Not if I was going to navigate this dangerous situation and somehow get free.
He took my hand in his, thick fingers brushing over my knuckles to soothe my mounting tension. “No one will touch you,” he swore. “Duarte won’t allow it. He knows I saved you from Los Zetas when they kidnapped you, and he approves.”
“But Duarte wants you to…kill George,” I stumbled over the word, my throat closing in horror at the prospect of his murder, no matter his corruption. “You said you’re doing it as a favor.”
He nodded, unruffled and unrepentant. “George is dirty. He dug his own grave when he sold his loyalty to the Zetas. You are innocent. Duarte appreciates the difference. He won’t allow you to be harmed.”
I pressed my lips together, considering my next words carefully. “I don’t want to meet Duarte,” I finally said. “He’s a drug lord. That scares me, Massimo.”
It wasn’t a lie, and I allowed my dark protector to read the stark truth in my eyes. I wasn’t accustomed to showing my more tumultuous emotions so openly, but if honesty would give me an advantage, I would use it.
He stroked my hair. “You don’t need to be afraid, farfallina. You’re with me.” Before I could formulate another protest, he continued on. “This isn’t optional. I have to attend Duarte’s party to secure our alliance. My friends are counting on me, and I won’t let them down.”
“Your friends?” I remembered the two handsome Italian men who’d argued with him last night—the brothers. “Why can’t they be the ones to go to the party?”
“They’re on their way back to Naples. It’s up to me to conclude our business here in Mexico.”
My blood went cold. “And what business is that?” I demanded, daring him to admit to his criminal activities. It would be a good reminder for me, too. The man who held me so tenderly was involved in organized crime, and I couldn’t allow myself to forget it.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” he replied, posture relaxed and completely unbothered. Whatever he was doing here in Mexico, Massimo didn’t feel a shred of guilt over his lawless lifestyle.
I gaped at him. “You want to take me to a drug lord’s party, and you think I shouldn’t worry about what you’re up to?”
He nodded. “There’s no need for you to concern yourself with my business.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead, and the shockingly intimate gesture made my mind blank for a moment. “You don’t need to worry about anything. I’ll take care of you, Evelyn.”
Deep in my bones, I believed him. But that didn’t mean I was okay with the situation.
“I don’t want to go,” I said, once again hoping the bald truth would sway him.
His lips ghosted over my cheek, his stubble lightly scraping my skin as he whispered in my ear, “I know what’s best for you, dolcezza. I’m not letting you out of my sight, but I have to attend this party. That means you’re coming with me, and you’re going to behave.” His teeth grazed my throat, a sensual threat. “I promise I will reward you after.”
My belly fluttered, equal parts unease and arousal. “I don’t want a reward.” My protest was embarrassingly breathy when I should’ve sounded outright indignant. I was wary of any gifts that might make me indebted to him.
His low hum vibrated over my neck, sinking into my heated flesh. “You will. You’ll be desperate for it by the time I’m finished with you.”
Before I could demand to know what he was talking about, his teeth sank into my shoulder in a purely primal act of dominance. I cried out at the shock of pain, even as my core contracted in response. He kept me pinned in his ruthless bite and fisted my hair in one hand, anchoring me in place. My scalp lit up with little pinpricks of pain that turned into dancing sparks along my spine.
His other hand went to my breast, palming it through his soft shirt. My nipple was hard, straining against the fabric. He growled his approval, the sound rumbling all the way to my heated core. My thighs were slick with a shocking wash of arousal, an embarrassing sensation I’d never known before meeting Massimo. I squirmed, but he kept me captive in his savage bite, his tongue tracing soothing patterns on my skin even as pain radiated from my shoulder. It morphed into dark pleasure, sending lightning strikes straight to my sex.
Just when I thought I wouldn’t be able to handle any more of the cruelly erotic sensations, he released me, and he pressed a tender kiss to the little indentations that he’d left in my skin.
“Now everyone will know you’re mine.” His voice was heavy with his own desire, a deep, wicked satisfaction.
The prospect of attending the drug lord’s party with Massimo’s bite mark on my neck caused anxiety to nip at me, but he quickly obliterated my budding concern by pinching my peaked nipple.
His lips crashed down on mine, devouring my sharp cry. Our first kiss had been a careful, slow seduction; this one was savage, rough with raw need. He claimed my mouth with tongue and teeth, kissing me so deeply that I could barely breathe. He consumed me, savoring the taste of my needy whimpers and soft gasps as he toyed with my breasts.
I’d never known my nipples could be so sensitive. Even through the barrier of his shirt, they tingled and throbbed beneath his deft fingers. His thumbs rubbed over the tight buds, teasing me until I became frenzied in my desperate need for more.
“Please,” I panted against his lips. “Please, Massimo.”
He groaned into my mouth and kissed me more deeply, almost feral. Abruptly, he tore his lips from mine, and I cried out at the loss. With one sweep of his powerful arm, he cleared the dining table. Plates smashed, and silverware clattered to the floor. I gasped in shock, but before I could ask what he was doing, his big hands sank into my hips. He lifted me as though I weighed nothing more than a doll, laying me out on the table before him.
I stared up at him where he loomed over me, his eyes burning flame blue as he studied my body. I studied him with equal intensity, my greedy gaze raking over his muscular chest and rippling abs where his robe had parted to reveal his impressive physique. My tongue darted out to wet my lips, and he watched the sign of my desire with a low growl.
His hands fisted in the shirt that barely covered me, and the material tore like paper as he ripped it apart. Cool air washed over my heated skin, my body fully bared to him for the first time.
My hands flew to my chest and sex, instinctively covering myself. His growl roughened to a warning snarl, and his fingers encircled my wrists. He dragged my arms above my head, pinning them to the table.
“Never hide from me, farfallina,” he rebuked.
I blew out a shaky sigh, modesty warring with my raging desire for this fierce, beautiful man. No one had ever looked at me in broad daylight like this; George had been my only sexual partner, and we always had sex with the lights off.
I took another breath and shoved the fleeting thought of my traitorous fiancé from my mind. As though he read my moment of disquiet, Massimo said something in Italian. I couldn’t understand the words, but his cadence was low and soothing. Reverent.
Keeping my wrists pinned, he lowered his face to my chest, his eyes burning into mine. I watched with rapt fascination as his clever tongue flicked my nipple. Pleasure arced through me, and I barely recognized the wanton moan that issued from my chest.
His teeth grazed the hard bud on a wicked grin, an almost cruelly amused smile. Massimo was toying with me, indulging himself. His tongue explored the shape of my breasts as though he was memorizing my curves. With every deviant stroke, my belly coiled tighter with carnal need. My inner walls contracted, aching to be filled.
I squirmed beneath him, arching my back to seek his hot mouth on my nipples. His low chuckle rolled through my body, a vibration that reached deep into my core.
“Please…” I moaned again, lifting my hips in mindless invitation.
All thoughts had been obliterated from my mind; I was consumed by erotic desperation. Massimo had become the center of my world, and all that mattered was his merciful touch on my aching sex.
His silver eyes were molten, searing my soul. “Say my name.”
“Massimo,” I whispered, barely finding the air to reply.
“Louder,” he commanded, an almost fanatical light making his wolf’s eyes gleam.
“Please, Massimo…”
“Tell me what you want.” His calloused fingertips teased my belly, just below my navel. “Beg me to touch your pretty pussy.”
My clit throbbed in time with my racing heart, my desire for him so keen that it hurt. “Please touch me, Massimo.”
He bared his teeth at me, a primal warning.
“Please touch my pussy, Massimo.” Despite the embarrassment that flooded my cheeks with heat, I spoke clearly. I would do anything he said if he would grant me the release I so desperately needed. My body burned for him, for his masterful touch.
His dazzling, sharply satisfied grin hit me square in the chest. “Good girl.” He stroked my cheek and gently squeezed my wrists with his other hand. “Stay.”
He released me from the shackle of his long fingers, his touch trailing down the length of my arms, over the sides of my torso, down to my hips. He grasped me firmly and tugged me to the edge of the table, so that my toes brushed the floor. His grip shifted to my thighs, parting them as he dropped to his knees before me.
“What are you doing?” I asked in a breathy whisper.
“You were such a good girl asking for what you want,” he rumbled, his breath hot on my slick folds. “I’m going to taste you.”
My entire body flushed, and I squirmed in his hold. “You don’t have to… No one has ever…” I trailed off, my mouth going dry at the feral hunger that sharpened his stunning features.
“This pussy is mine,” he growled, staking his claim with a long swipe of his tongue over my swollen labia. He flicked my clit, and stars burst across my vision.
“I’m the only one to taste you,” he declared, savage and possessive. “Your sweet cunt belongs to me. I could feast on you every day.”
“Massimo…” I whimpered his name, tormented by embarrassment and desire. This was hedonistic, more decadent and deviant than any sex act I’d ever allowed myself.
But I’d never known my body could come alive like this. I’d never known that desire could be keen enough to hurt, relentless enough to drive me to the edge of madness.
He pressed a tender kiss directly over my clit, and a strangled cry tore from my chest as pleasure tormented me. My core contracted, and a fresh wash of arousal wet my inner thighs.
His animal snarl rumbled over my heated flesh, and I held my breath, bracing for the next surge of shocking ecstasy.
He pulled away, every line of his powerful body taut with strain.
Without thinking, I reached for him, my fingers tangling in his black curls to tug him closer to my needy clit.
Despite the tension in his jaw, he let out a cruel chuckle. “Greedy girl,” he said, an admonishment and praise. “You’ll get your reward later.”
“What?” I asked on a little puff of air, bereft without his touch.
He grasped my wrists and directed my arms back to my sides. Then he lifted me off the table and set me down on my feet. I stared up at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. His thumb traced the line of my pouty lower lip, and my sensitive skin tingled with residual lust. I swayed toward him, desperate for more.
“Believe me,” he rumbled. “This hurts me just as much as it hurts you. But you have to be good for me first. Behave tonight, and I’ll make you come so hard that your voice is hoarse from screaming my name.”
“Please… I can’t…” It was too humiliating to tell him how much I ached for him, so I simply pressed my body against his, silently conveying the depth of my need.
“Soon, dolcezza,” he promised.
As I molded my body to his, I felt his impressive erection jerk against my belly. I gasped at his size and eased back slightly. Massimo was big everywhere. I was equally intimidated and intrigued, my body primed to accept him.
I shook my head to clear it and took another step back.
What was I doing? I’d almost been humping my captor. My protector. My dark, beautiful savior.
I swallowed hard and did my best to quell the lust that’d temporarily overtaken my sanity. It would be far too easy to become dangerously attached to Massimo. No one had ever looked at me the way he did: like I was the center of his universe. Like he would do anything to taste me again.
He licked his sensual lips in a lewd display, showing me just how hungry he was for more. My inner muscles fluttered at the sight of his raw need. This powerful, dangerous man had dropped to his knees before me. He’d pleasured me in a way no man had ever offered me.
Your sweet cunt belongs to me. I could feast on you every day. I shivered at the memory of his crass, possessive declaration.
“Go get ready for the party, farfallina,” he ordered, nodding toward the bedroom. “I bought you everything you might need.” His chest swelled with pride when he said it, as though providing for me pleased him.
But I knew such things always came with a price. He’d already made me malleable to his will by stoking my lust and leaving me wanting. Now, I’d be indebted to him, unable to repay him for whatever he’d bought for me. He’d asserted his control over me so easily, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I could choose to rail at him, but he’d proven that he was completely unaffected by my insistence that I wanted to go home. Arguing would get me nowhere, and being combative wasn’t in my nature, anyway. I would rather quietly bide my time and assess my situation for any opportunities to escape.
One thing was for certain: as long as I was trapped in this suite with Massimo, I didn’t have a hope of attaining my freedom.