9. Nicola
Nicola
H e backs me against the couch cushions, his steady fingers going to work on the buttons of my blouse.
The pain from the cuff disappears in a wave of warmth when he pries open the sides of my shirt and buries his head between my breasts. Stubble scrapes against my overly sensitized skin.
I reach down to push him away, only for Edward to grab my wrists in one of his massive hands and hold my arms above my head.
“What are you doing?”
He looks up at me only to growl. “Shut up.”
“Don’t tell me to shut up!” I try to sit up, but he forces me down, his strength much more than my own.
His hands are adept. He’s got the button and zipper of my high-waisted trousers undone and drags the material down in the next beat. I catch my breath at the bite of cool air.
“Move, and I'll punish you,” he warns before releasing my hands.
I bolt upright immediately. He yanks my pants down to my ankles and tosses them aside, panties too. Then grabs me around the neck to keep me down.
“I said not to move.”
“I don’t listen to you!” Except I’m naked from the waist down, and he still has all of his clothes.
He smirks, the prick. Smirks and then pushes my legs aside, his hand on my neck squeezing just hard enough to catch the air in my lungs. “No one has ever licked you, have they, little fox?”
His head is between my thighs, with his mouth on my most sensitive part. His tongue thrusts inside of me before circling on my core, teasing me, probing where it doesn’t belong. Only…it does. It feels?—
“Your pussy is incredible,” he mutters. The same voice from my dreams. “You taste so good.”
His gaze lifts to meet mine above the curve of my pubis, and I tense beneath him. If I ask him to stop, will he? Do I want him to stop?
A soft moan makes its way past my parted lips. He laps at every part of me until my thighs tremble, and I’m gripping the cushion and the edge of the couch to keep from shaking.
“The things you’re doing to me…”
“Do you still hate me?” he asks against me.
He traces around my clit with his tongue before putting pressure directly on the bud, and I yelp. How am I fine with this? How am I not fighting him?
His tongue works me, diving into my core, and every lap brings me closer and closer to an edge I didn’t understand. My leg and arm muscles tense and quiver, vibrating through him. I’m teething on the edge?—
“Oh, trust me, little fox.” Edward chuckles as my thighs clamp around his head. “You’re going to come.”
“Fuck you, Eddie,” I say a second time.
“I plan on it.” He releases my neck to grab my hips and hold me there while he eats me out. The anger in my system mingles with pleasure, filling me with every lick.
My moans grow, and I grab onto his hair and tug away to keep him from whatever it is he’s doing. He sucks down on my clit until my sounds shift into a scream.
Release flashes through me, there in the living room with my framed family pictures above the mantle on the fireplace.
I curse Edward with every passing beat, slamming my eyes shut so I don’t have to see my father’s stoic posture in the gilt frame. Heat rushes to the area between my thighs and my muscles tighten. Then he’s there, his zipper down and his erection freed.
He shifts his trousers off his hips, grabbing the base of his dick and pushing my legs wider yet, then wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.
My cheeks flush with frustration. “No.”
He slicks the head of his dick against me. “You’re not in a position to say no.”
Desire zaps through me like electricity, and the warm wetness of pleasure between my legs gives another pulse. “You don’t own me. Not now, not ever, Eddie. You might think I’m going to sit here and let you fuck me, but I’m not.”
“You’re challenging me now?” He kisses me deeply, still working his dick against my opening. “Always challenging me. I love it.”
The seductive tenor of his voice causes goose bumps along my skin.
“This is going to hurt a little for your first time, but I’ll go as slow as I can.”
“I’m not giving you my virginity.” My hips arch up on their own.
“I’m going to keep you safe, Nicola. I’m going to keep you, period. You’re mine,” he whispers against my ear before nipping my neck. “Even if you hate me.”
I do hate him. Our families are on opposite sides. The police are after me for a crime he committed. And I’m done fighting him.
Especially when Edward pushes himself inside of me with a long thrust, too hungry to wait any longer. I gasp, freezing, worried he’ll rip me into pieces and tear my insides. A whimper escapes, and he stops with inches to spare.
“I told you it would hurt.”
I’m breathing heavily, nodding, but I’m not going to ask him to stop. Edward skims my hair back and kisses me again before he pushes all the way inside. My muscles have to adjust to the intrusion and the size of him, the agonized pinching sensation of something being stuck where it doesn’t belong.
The discomfort doesn’t last long, though. Not when he draws out and then thrusts back inside again without hesitation.
He’s not forcing this on me. He took the bait because this is what I wanted. Him. Only him.
He’s mine as much as I’m his, and when he starts to fuck me harder, my hesitation disappears. Desire for him eats me alive, but as his cock stretches my inside, I’m willing to give him every piece of me that’s left.
“Eddie.” I groan out his name, pinned to the couch by his body.
He forces me back, driving into me, excited to bury himself as deep as possible. His movements go jerky, and too soon, he’s rocking his pelvis in shallow strokes.
“Are you okay?”
“Keep moving.” I reach for him, and he shatters.
He picks up the movement, and the fire between us erupts, the soft hairs on my arms lifting. He’s moaning my name, sliding his fingers between us to work my sensitive clit. I wrap my legs around him to pull him against me closer, shuddering through every thrust.
“Fuck.” At the last minute, Edward pulls out, gripping his cock in his hand and spasming out his pleasure on my stomach. He grunts through the orgasm and paints my stomach with his come, thick ropes of it, before his balls give a final twitch, and he releases himself.
We’re on the edge of something strange and great, I think as we stare each other down.
Will there be time to go back? Or did I just damn myself completely?
Still, there is something so sturdy about him.
As if my subconscious understands that Edward Balestra is a man I can rely on to always be the stone beneath my feet rather than the anchor I always assumed he’d be. A sense of peace and security steals over me, found only in his arms and in the nonchalant caress of his index finger over my bicep.
Instead of asking him, I press my lips together in a line that may as well be melded shut before he kisses me a final time, stroking his hand over my cheek.
Honesty has its places, but after the vulnerable sex, I’m in a terrible place to be honest.
Especially with Edward. He feels so alive, so virile and vital, on the couch beneath me. I’m draped half beside him and half over his lap with his arm around me and his opposite hand clenched over mine on his chest. To ruin this moment with honesty…
“Nicola.”
My name from his lips threads around me and draws me tighter to him.
I lift my face to meet his gaze, his profile strong. “Hmm?”
“We’re going to find out who is doing this to you and to your family. I promise.” He tucks his spent dick back inside his pants and zips them back into place.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” I sigh and reach for him, unwilling to don my hatred so soon.
Not when this isn’t hatred. I’ve felt the emotion before, black and delicious and bitter, urging you to drink more until you end up poisoned. This is a different beast entirely.
“I’m going to keep it. Together.”
He’s too earnest for me. Especially when he’s not supposed to be and the entire point of my agreeing to get close to him hinged on his depravity. There was no way I’d allow my walls to drop with a complete monster. Yet here we were.
“Edward, I—” I shift slightly to put distance between us but he’s not having it only holds me tighter. “I have to tell you something.”
He groans before dropping down on the couch and pulling me onto his lap. My pussy throbs, definitely sore inside and out, but his arms band around my torso, and I’m done fighting to be free.
“You’re actually a contract killer?” he jokes.
It would certainly make things easier if I were. But on both of those counts. I swallow hard, the back of my throat constricting with bile. My stomach churns and I know, without a doubt, I’ve got to come clean. fuck.
I’m not sure what the hell is wrong with me, but the words are bubbling up, and I know this is the right time. There’s no more hiding the truth. Or me.
I push back from him with enough pressure that he finally lets me go, and I move to face him head-on, our legs still pressed together. “My father sent me. To taunt you, weaken you, get information on you.”
Edward’s face doesn’t change, and he blinks at me.
“All the times we spoke to each other, it was because of that. Orchestrated.” I bit down on my lip.
“I know, little fox.”
I glared at him. “What do you mean, you know?”
“I mean, I suspected. There was no other reason for you to interact with me otherwise. Our families are enemies, with Scott poised to take over for your dad, not you. Why else would you be brought into the meetings? Yet here we are.” His smirk says it all. “Should I compare us to two other rival families where the couple inevitably fell for each other?”
My stomach takes a high dive. “Not when the couple in question died.”
“Then I won’t make the comparison. But I already knew.” He reaches out and smooths a lock of hair away from my head with such tenderness in the gesture I groan, the sound pained. “I understand.”
“You let me do it anyway.”
He shrugs. “I wanted to see how far you would go.”
My appraising stare shifts quickly into a glare. “I didn’t let you fuck me because of it,” I balk, ready to jump back. Needing to move.
His scowl is tempered by a chuckle, and he cocks his head. “I never said you did. But we’re in this together now. So, are there any more secrets I need to know about? You tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine.”
“Only the kind that breaks the law.”
“Perfect. Those are my favorite kind.” His voice lowers, scraping pleasantly against my heart. “We’re in this together,” he repeats.
I snort and tilt my head up in defiance, oddly twined together with a tentative hope he’s telling the truth. “I heard you the first time.”
“And you are going to let me handle this my way. The man I saw the other night with your father wore a fedora. It might not be much to go on, but it may work to our favor. A recognizable calling card.”
We sit together in the afterglow, a consensual and mutually enjoyed experience rather than the fight I’d been hoping for when he first crowded me.
“I am perfectly capable of being a partner and not just some little flower you have to protect from a storm,” I remind him.
Edward barks out a laugh. “I wouldn’t dare think about you that way. You’re not that kind of woman.”
I might have stayed in his arms for the rest of the day, finding safety and contentment there. When I’m with him, god, it’s insane. I am untouchable. I have never been more peaceful or joyful. And the way the man looks at me leaves me questioning reality because surely, the son of my enemy cannot look at me as though I am the queen of the universe.
It almost makes me believe he’s right. That I can meet the challenges thrown at me and figure out this mess. For my family, for my father, for me. There’s no hope of a future with blackmail hanging like a blade over the back of my neck.
Edward kisses me goodbye with a promise to check back in later. As hard as it is to let him go, I force myself to loosen my grip but stay in the shadow of the curtains and watch until his car disappears on the main road.
When I’m alone is when things start to fray and fragment.
I take dinner in the parlor after spending the rest of the afternoon checking in with the psychiatric facility and making calls. Mom is secured and medicated, which is exactly where she needs to be.
Her constitution is too delicate for her to handle these things.
Death is one of the most powerful motivators to send you into the tail end of a spiral if you’re already close. She’s spent years being too close and too fragile to even find her end in the bottom of a beer glass, like Dad.
And my brother? He’s nowhere to be found. Without a direction, I can’t contact him.
A knock sounds at the door, and half a second later, in the dying glow of evening light, the housekeeper pops her head around the corner. A pitcher of water and a dye-cut vase of fresh roses balance out the tray, with a plate of food in between.
“You have to eat,” she says by way of greeting.
“I’m really not hungry.” My stomach constricts. “But thank you for the thought.”
Louisa sets the tray down on the settee near the stained glass window and pauses with her knuckles rapping over the wood. “Honey, it’s been days. I know you’re not touching your food, and without your parents around…I’m worried about you.”
I automatically try to brush her off and stop, biting down on my tongue.
Louisa has worked for the family before we became a Family, capitalized. One of my mother’s childhood friends, she was more suited to spinsterhood and household organization than finding her way in the marriage market and seemed content to watch my mother’s kids instead.
More like an aunt than a housekeeper, although there were many times when Louisa was the one to bring down the punishment than my own mother. Too fragile, everyone always said, more of a shadow than an actually fully realized painting of a woman.
Slender, where Louisa was sturdy.
Mom’s delicate nature made her a perfect punching bag for Arden’s heavy-handed tactics.
“I know you’re worried, but I’m going to be fine.” I force myself to walk to her side and press a kiss to Louisa’s wrinkled cheek.
Her worry has always aged her faster than even childbirth would have.
“Death is a time for people to come together. That way, you can fall apart together, sweet pea.” Louisa pressed her hand to mine. “It’s not right for you to be here on your own.”
“I’m not on my own.”
“I don’t mean that devil-faced man,” she corrects.
“I was talking about you.” But it doesn’t bode well if she’s seen Edward around and made a mental note.
With one leg shorter than the other, Louisa limps over to the windows and draws the curtains closed to shut out the night. “And I’ll be here for you.” Her thin lips purse, and wrinkles fan outward. “I’ve been here long before your birth, and I will make sure to stick with you no matter what happens.”
She scoffs.
My lips press together and twist. “Why so glum tonight?”
“ That man .”
“Edward Balestra is not a problem,” I hurry to say.
Louisa turns to me with sorrow in her blue eyes. “There’s so much more going on than you understand, sweet pea, and it wasn’t my place to tell you, but…” she trails off.
“Out with it.”
She sharpens at my tone. “I was cleaning in your father’s office the other day. Tidying up before, you know?—”
“You don’t need to say it,” I interrupt.
“Before his passing. He wasn’t the most orderly man, your father, and he left multiple ledgers out on the table in plain view of anyone to see. You might have even caught a glimpse if you had gone inside. Which you would never do.”
She’s nervous. Writing her skirts and the apron she always wears when she’s preparing dinner. Avoiding looking at my gaze. The heaviness in my gut returns with a vengeance and makes my mouth water in the worst kind of way. Goose bumps rise along my forearms. “What are you trying to say? Please.”
This isn’t easy for either one of us.
“Your Edward has a serious gambling problem.” The words leave Louisa in a rush, and like she’s trying to temper them, she reaches for me. Gripping my elbows in her warm hands. “Your father covered it up. One of the people Edward owed money to was Arden.”
I stiffen. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, the ledger is still in the negative. Balestra had not yet paid off your father before his death. I wasn’t supposed to look at the ledger, but I did. I’m so sorry, but you need to know.”
Edward…gambled? He owed my father?
Why would Daddy lend the money to the son of his rival? Was it a way to pull the rug out from under Gio’s feet?
My head goes light and spins around in dizzying circles. None of it makes any sense, though. The two of them hated each other. The families were always at odds, which was why Dad sent me to undermine Edward, knowing I’d be the perfect weapon to get close to him.
“Sweet pea, why don’t you sit? You’re worrying me again.”
Louisa gently guides me to the couch, and I let her.
“How much?” How serious is the gambling problem?
“Enough.” Louisa is decisive. “I know the two of you are getting close, and I hate drawing conclusions with thin threads, but that young man is trouble. He may have had something to do with your father’s passing, and this proves the connection between them.”
Edward also brought the body here.
I thought he was trying to do something kind, to handle things before anyone else got unnecessarily involved, but this is different. This is worse.
The lines I thought were blurred go gray and black, and all kinds of shades I can’t distinguish. Is Edward the one trying to frame me?
Louisa drops down next to me and draws me to her bosom. The dam breaks, though, and it’s impossible to keep myself contained any longer. The first sob is the first of many, and once the tears begin, the flow refuses to stop.
I let Edward in the house.
I let him inside my body, and I slept with him of my own free will. I wanted to do it. What if it was his plan to seduce me all along? To kill my father to erase his debts, to take advantage of me, and wrangle our businesses together through force and lies?
“I don’t know what to tell you to make it any better.”
Louisa is there, and she’s real. She’d never lie to me this way. So I let her hold me, and when I squeeze my burning eyes shut, I can almost pretend I’m a kid with a scraped knee rather than a woman with a shattered heart.