Chapter 12
Kazimir
Where my father had always issued warnings, stark and detailed descriptions about what would happen should an event or betrayal occur, I’d always issued promises.
I’d found them extremely effective, a soft reminder that lurking beneath my perfectly pressed suit there was a monster lurking in the shadows who only needed to whisper.
In making a promise to Rafaela, I’d done so to soothe the physical ache that I’d seen highlighted in her eyes.
Her soulful eyes. Had I meant the words?
Maybe the only way to consider the question was to remind myself that only time would tell.
She could be a perfect tool to use against my enemy, which I’d begun to believe was Pollizi, the theatrics merely an orchestration meant to make me suffer and to buy time.
In a world where a woman’s worth was often measured by her innocence, I’d not only taken what hadn’t belonged to me, I’d also already marked her as mine.
Only her father had no idea the lengths I’d gone to in order to leave that mark.
Using her as a pawn should be all I thought about.
But I was still processing the way I felt about her.
The softness of her skin.
The taste of her sweet pussy, which had driven the ugliness aside if only for a little while.
The way her eyes had darted down my chest, apprehensive to break free of her conservative mold to take a single peek at my throbbing cock.
And the way her lips tasted, minty from either toothpaste or a piece of candy.
The words I’d whispered had been for her benefit given I knew I’d never see her again.
However… there was a need to claim her, to keep her as mine.
That was the man I’d been, an insufferable bastard with no heart.
Perhaps I wanted her for all the wrong reasons.
Or perhaps for once, I did for the right ones.
Rafaela had no idea how truly beautiful she was, yet I was no fool.
She’d grown far too connected to me, asking me more than once if she could go with me.
For all the possessions I’d captured and kept over the years, all the decisions made that were overtly selfish, no matter the desire, I refused to ruin her life.
The girl had spark, too much so. For all the reasons I’d driven her away, one look and my resolve had come crumbling down like a stack of cards.
Yet there was no guilt. None.
As with so many mafia princesses, she’d been kept in a bubble. Who was I to burst the thin shield, inviting her into a world of even more danger?
Her father would take care of ruining her belief system. Sadly, she’d need to learn women were nothing but pawns, chess pieces to use when necessary, bodies to own.
Fuck, no.
I was cruel and savage, but not in that manner.
The feel of having her pussy muscles wrapped tightly around my cock was the best feeling I’d had in a very long time. I couldn’t remember my last shared act of intimacy. Months. Maybe a full year. She had no idea what the gift of her virginity meant even for a brutal bastard such as myself.
Men surrounding her father would have paid dearly for the same gift, pledging their loyalty and riches to the Marichetti patriarch. If her father was as crass as I suspected he was, he’d have her tested. And here I was fucking up her life anyway.
Yet I was a man, one so hungry I’d become blinded to danger and any sense of true decency. And so I thrust my dick as deep inside her sweet cunt as I could, basking in the heat resonating off her shimmering skin.
If only I could fuck her for hours, claiming every hole while painting her with my cum. But the risk was too great. This was likely my one shot at disappearing.
I’d heard enough rumblings over the last couple of days to suspect I was being auctioned off to the highest bidder.
Over my dead fucking body.
I was ready to find out who betrayed me.
But not until I’d left my mark on this beautiful woman. With her legs wrapped around my hips, we rocked together. Her soulful eyes continued searching mine, maybe hopeful I’d change my mind. She was so damn sweet, so giving.
How much she’d risked in trying to heal me, hoping my scars and anguish would fade. If she only knew that the agony had been worth obtaining this very moment.
For a man who cared about almost no one, finding a diamond in a craggy pile of rocks meant more than I could admit.
Especially to myself.
With our bodies sweaty and breathing labored, I sensed by how her fingers dug into my arms that she was about to orgasm once again.
She cinched her muscles in both her thighs and her pussy against me, arching her back.
Everything about her was sensual, inviting and created such an obsessive need I could barely think straight, let alone focus.
I pulled out, slamming into her again, ignoring the fact she’d been a virgin. My needs were too intense, my balls tight as drums, craving the type of satisfaction only she could provide.
With her sweet mews and the flutter of her eyelashes against her flushed cheeks, I had more difficulty maintaining control than I’d had in a very long time. She did things to me that didn’t make any sense.
Goddamn, I adored the woman, far too much so.
She continued clinging to me, her lips pursed together and I waited, watching, my hunger off the charts as her purrs turned into ragged moans. As her body convulsed, I captured her mouth to keep her from screaming. For a few precious seconds, we rocked together as her single climax lingered.
As soon as I pulled her lips free, she mumbled a few words, her smile brightening the drab prison as only she could do.
I rose onto my forearms, my instinct telling me our time together was running out. She lolled her head to the side, her eyelids closed. I wanted her to remember the moment in real time. “Look at me, Rafaela.”
As if in a dream state, she finally opened her eyes, offering a slow and easy smile.
“You will hear things about me, some true, some not true, but never forget, I am a brutal killer.”
“Why are you telling me this? I don’t need you to lie to me.”
“I’m not lying. That’s something you need to know.”
“Understood.” Yet the single word was whispered, said in a way that let me know she was still disbelieving.
“You deserve more in your life. Find and take it. Promise me.”
“What if I want you?”
“Promise me.”
The crack of her voice was nothing I was used to giving a shit about. “Fine. Yes. Who would do this to you? Who would try and destroy you?”
Her question was one for the ages. “I don’t know, my angel, but I will find out. Betrayal is not something I will tolerate. From anyone.”
She never blinked again as I fucked her, driving deep inside with long and steady strokes until I began to lose the battle of control.
When the stamina fell away, my needs overcoming everything else, I lost it, throwing my head back as I filled her with my seed.
The ache continued, the pure, raw satisfaction more intense than I remembered feeling. With a slow drop of my head, I noticed her eyes were shimmering with tears.
A single drop slipped past her long, dark eyelashes, which I gathered with my finger, bringing the tip to my mouth. Her one sob tore through me in ways I wasn’t used to.
There were no words to soothe her simply because there were none that would make any sense. This was nothing but a measure of time and at some point, perhaps she’d forget.
Maybe there were things to say, but the strange sound coming from her duffle bag brought fear to her sultry eyes. Her grip on my arms was painful and she suddenly appeared frantic.
“That’s my friend. I asked her to tell me if anyone was looking for me. You need to wait until the party dies down. The guests will be leaving in about an hour. Just don’t do anything until then.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“They’ve been watching me. Every move. I need to get back, but there’s a chance they’ll scour the grounds. Just wait for a little while until I can reappear and pretend that everything is okay.”
I allowed her to scramble out from under me. Only then did I notice there was blood on the inside of her thighs.
Did I feel bad for taking her virginity? I should.
But I didn’t.
And no matter what fate had in store for either one of us, a part of her would always belong to me.
As I stood, I thought about how to handle the situation.
“I brought one more thing you’ll need.”
“What’s that, birthday angel?”
Her hand was still shaking as she reached into the bag. “This is mine. From my grandmother. It’s very sharp and I want you to have it.”
Looking down at the jeweled dagger she held in her hand, I was reminded how much danger she’d placed herself in. I also couldn’t get the thought of what the motherfucker had done to her. He’d touched her. He’d laid his dirty motherfucking hands on her.
On the woman who belonged to me.
“Please. Take it. You need protection.” Her smile was far too sweet and ill-deserved for a man like me. But I accepted the weapon.
She was shaking as she scrambled to get dressed, allowing tears to fall while resisting looking at me. An ache formed as she checked the interior, turning off the candles. When she snagged the bottle of champagne, she moaned again. “We didn’t get to drink this.”
“We didn’t need it, moy prekrasnyy tselitel’.”
I was ready before she was, stroking her beautiful dog. Perhaps I’d get a golden retriever when I returned home. After dealing with a few things.
“Do you have everything you need?” she asked, fighting the tears and once again refusing to look me in the eyes.
“Yes. Go home.”
“I don’t want to.” She jerked her head toward me, anger replacing sadness. “I don’t want to.”
“That’s exactly what you will do, Rafaela. Now.”
There was no way of hiding the situation with the lock, which was why I’d asked her days before about getting me a chisel.
“How are you getting out of here?”