17. Chapter 16 Soren
Iround the corner of the parking garage and don’t see Gin where she said to meet her. I knew better than to let her pick this spot, but that kiss she gave me had me wanting to give her the world.
I step out of my car, the garage eerily silent. The hairs on my skin rise and my eyes dart around, looking for my fiancée. We’re in disputed territory, the overlap between my family’s and the Armatos’ turf. With neither family having full control, lowlifes think they can come in here and do as they please. If anyone dared to touch a single hair on Ginevra, I will make them feel the full weight of the Moretti revenge.
My eyes dart to the ground and take in a shaking body. What the fuck? I race toward her, calling her name, “Ginevra!”
I fall to my knees beside her, my hand cautiously touching her back as I assess her body. I see no blood.
“No, I’m doing as you say!” Her body tries to wiggle from my touch. My vision clouds and I promise retaliation for whoever hurt my woman. I glance around, hoping to find a target for the rage that boils in my chest and my fingers itch to reach for my gun, wanting to use it on someone this instant.
“Gin, it’s me.” Hesitantly, she slowly raises her head. Her gorgeous green eyes are wide and frantic looking. Tears fill them and she jumps at me. My hand shoots out and I catch both of our weights as I rock backward from the impact. Her tiny frame clings to me for dear life as she shakes uncontrollably and I wrap my arms around her, holding her tight. I am going to murder whoever made her feel like this.
“Ginevra. What happened?” I keep my voice low and calm, not wanting to scare her any further. My jaw locks as I try to control the fire that has been lit within me. It takes all of my willpower to be gentle with her. My muscles lock with my need to take my rage out on the person who hurt her.
I stare at her terrified face as she tries to open her mouth to speak, but only sad sobs are let loose. Her shoulders shake with the effort of each breath she takes.
“Please don’t let go of me. I don’t want to die.” Her chest heaves against mine and her voice breaks me.
My hand brushes against her soft, straight hair. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
I pick her up, her legs wrapping around me, and she tightens her hold. She’s so small and innocent in my arms. She should have never had to feel like this.
This version of Ginevra has my heart cracking open for her. She’s always so strong. The one who takes care of everyone. I place her in the car, wrapping the seat belt around her. Her legs come up to her chest and she hugs them, placing her face against her knees. She still hasn’t stopped shaking.
“Ginevra?” I say her name a bunch of times with no response. She’s not hearing a thing, lost in her head, buried in a whirlwind of thoughts.
Neither of us say a word while I drive. My hands grip the steering wheel tight, my knuckles turning white. I glance over at her when I put the car in park. Her cheeks and chin have dirt on them and her knees are black.
I place my hand on her shoulder and she jumps, taking a deep breath, then looks at me.
“Soren, I want to go home.” Her voice is a soft whisper.
“No one is there, Gin, and I want to make sure you’re okay,” I reply, getting out and opening her car door.
She doesn’t move, staring blankly at me. I lean in to unbuckle her seatbelt and help her out.
“You’re in shock and haven’t stopped shaking. Have a hot shower, it will make you feel better.” I close the door and place my hand on her lower back to guide her. “Use your thumb on the keypad, and it’ll open.”
“You mean your thumb,” she replies.
“I meant yours, but mine also works.” This was going to be one of my wedding presents to her, but the surprise is now ruined.
Her eyes grow large and she presses her thumb down, looking like she is expecting for it to not open. The door clicks and I open it for us. I was hoping for a more excited response when I gave it to her. My rage from earlier strums harder.
“They said to tell you this was a warning.”
I swallow down my saliva. “What did you say?” I ask, calmer than I feel.
“The man who stole my purse and held the gun to my head. He said to tell you this was a warning.”
I pull her into me and wrap my arms around her. “I am so sorry you had to go through that.” I hold her tight and her muscles relax under my embrace.
This is the first time Gin has ever been in my house. She looks around and I wonder what she’s thinking. It’s driving me crazy that she keeps her mask firmly in place, not giving her thoughts away. I’ve never cared about what anyone has thought about my place before, but for some reason, I want Gin to like it. I don’t bring many people here. Ever. My brothers come, but typically uninvited. Karissa showed up once or twice but she hated it here.
“I thought you were rich?” Gin suddenly says.
That’s a comment I wasn’t expecting. “What do you mean?” I look around my place thinking it looks pretty good.
“You have nothing on your walls. Your kitchen has no clutter. Did you only buy the bare minimums?”
I never thought of it that way. “I have a massive TV and the most comfortable couch in the world.” I point toward it but Gin walks away, making herself at home while snooping. I stand there watching her, scared to leave her alone. It looks like she’s starting to get color back into her face.
“I’ll be right back.”
I walk down the hall to quickly change out of my suit. I slip my jacket off my shoulders, placing it in a basket for the maid to take to the dry cleaners. My engraved cufflinks with the tiger’s eye inserts my grandfather brought from Italy taunt me. He would expect me to do something immediately. The sound of Ginevra in my home has me putting it off. I need to make sure she is okay before I race out. She’s my number one priority right now.
I undo my dress shirt, tossing it over my jacket. I undo my belt and my trousers drop to the ground. I change out of my boxers and decide to air myself out by not putting on a new pair.
Ginevra hasn’t left my mind the entire day, and now this. I grab my gray sweat pants and step into each leg. The soft material hangs low on my hips showcasing my sculpted stomach and defined V.
The more I think of it, Gin’s not wrong. Each bedroom in this place sits empty, but I did it to deter others from wanting to spend the night.
My door opens and Gin is standing there. “Please, come in for a show,” I tease, hoping to get a reaction. Any reaction telling me that she’s going to be okay.
Her eyes roam my torso and her cheeks grow rosy. Damn, she’s cute.
“I want to have a quick shower. I feel grimy after being mugged.”
“You’re going to need new clothes.” I grab a T-shirt and sweats for her to use and hand them out to her. “Here, put these on after.”
She shakes her head. “It’s fine, I’ll reuse my clothes.” Her eyes stay on the clothes being offered to her.
“Ginevra.” Her eyes lift to mine. “Your clothes are filthy.” She looks down, her hands trying to brush the dirt off them.
“I hadn’t realized.”
I place the clothes in her hands and lead her to my ensuite. “Use my bathroom.”
She just stands there blinking at me. Fuck, she’s still in shock. My hand runs down my face. “Do you want me to help you?” I cautiously ask.
“Hmmm. What?” she asks, not hearing me.
“Do you need help showering?”
Her eyes light up and grow wide. “No. No, I’m good.”
I’m not sure if I should leave her alone. Hesitantly, I leave, closing the door behind me. I wait outside the door until I hear her turn on the shower before I throw on a shirt and head to the kitchen.
I stand in the middle, unsure how to make her feel better, until I remember her loving mint hot chocolate as a kid. I used to tease her about it even though it was my favorite, too. Not that I would ever admit it to anyone. This will help. I’m sure of it. I start my kettle and pull out the hot chocolate.
A half hour later, she walks out with her hair piled high on her head, and my eyes bulge out when I see a bruise on her neck.
My muscles move on their own as I pull her toward me, and my hand cups the back of her neck. My heart rate skyrockets into pounding thunder against my chest. “No one will ever lay their hands on you again,” I growl.
She looks confused and her fingers trace the mark on her skin. “I burned it with a curling iron this morning.”
I stare down at her, my breathing choppy. “They will pay, Ginevra. Soon, everyone will know what happens if they touch something that’s mine. I promise you this.”
Her breathing becomes choppier and my hand on her neck slides up into her hair. My other hand slips up her shirt so I can feel the soft area of her back. She doesn’t protest against my touch. My lips slip to the side of her neck and I give her a light nip before I kiss the same spot.
She sucks in a breath, her chest pushing against me. “I’ve set my focus on you, Ginevra. You’ll learn. This will be stronger than any type of claiming you think you have experienced before.”
My hand feathers from her back to her front, and I cup her bare breast as I continue to kiss her neck.
My cock grows instantaneously hard, and I push it against her. She inhales sharply, feeling what she does to me.
She wiggles under my hold and I loosen my grip, expecting Gin to come to her senses, but instead, she cups my cock. I close my eyes and successfully try not to groan.
“I can’t be your rebound,” she mumbles softly with vulnerability laces within.
“I’m not rebounding. I never loved Karissa.” I scoop Gin up and her legs naturally wrap around me.
“Never?” she questions with a hint of disbelief.
“I refuse to come second to anyone.”
Her fingers slip under my shirt and walk up my stomach and my muscles contract with the motion before she’s playing with my small nipple. God, she’s perfect.
We continue to kiss and I walk us toward my couch. The back of her legs hit it and I playfully push her down. She falls onto her back, sprawled out, her eyes full of lust.
“I think you still might be in shock.” I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’d feel like an asshole if she felt like I took advantage of her. Our connection stays locked.
“If you don’t...” She scrambles to sit up and I hate the vulnerability in her tone. “If you don’t want me—”
“Ginevra. I find you incredibly gorgeous. Of course I want you.” I push my pants down and my cock springs up. “This is what you do to me.”
I give it two strokes as my eyes trail down the length of her. My clothes engulf her frame and still, she looks beautiful.
When my gaze comes back to her face, her eyes are on my hand stroking my dick. She’s eyeing the metal at the head of my cock. “It’s called a Prince Albert piercing.” I give myself another slow stroke and wish I could fuck her like a deprived man. The room crackles with energy and desire and my usually numb heart is pounding in a way it never has before.
“Take off my shirt, Ginevra,” I demand, my tone rough with lust. She stands and grasps the hem of my shirt. Her hands tremble as she lifts the material above my stomach and over my head. I want more of that kiss we shared earlier. “Good girl,” I praise, and she rewards me with a shy smile.
I lean down, planting a kiss onto her lips. She tastes like strawberries and I groan when she opens her mouth, allowing my tongue entrance.
I’m salivating at the chance of seeing her with no barriers. “Now take off your shirt.” She takes her time, but she does as I ask. Her tits are round and perky, begging for my mouth to latch onto her tanned nipple.
My fingers latch on to the elastic of the sweatpants she’s wearing. “Can I take these off too?”
She nods. “I need words, Ginevra.”
“Yes,” she pants.
I push the loose material down until she’s standing in only her underwear. It’s a bright-pink satin thong.
I’m rooted, frozen, as she captivates me with the gracefulness of her body and the way she’s smirking at me, like she knows she’s the one in control even though I’m giving the orders.
I loop my fingers through her panties and pull them down. I kneel before her, wanting to show her pleasure, assure her that not everything in my world is dark. I want her to feel good, to erase the memories of tonight.
My hands spread her legs as I admire her pussy, and I can’t wait to fuck it, but not yet. Not until the wedding night.
“How many people have licked this pussy before?”
I lick her, my tongue flattened, and her knees close around my head while her fingers thread into my hair. Her reaction is everything. I lick her again, but this time, my tongue flicks her clit at the end. My moves are fast and her fingers tighten in my hair.
“No one,” she answers. Her words grip my heart. Damn right, no one has had it before.
“Has anyone touched this pussy before?” She is making me crazy.
She hesitates and my heart speeds up. I wait for her to tell me who, but then she responds, “No one but you.”
“Sit on the couch with your legs spread,” I demand.
She does as I say, shyly opening her legs. My hands roam up and down her calves. Her skin is smooth, warm, and beautiful. She has the prettiest wet cunt I have ever seen.
I reward her by licking her clit again. She moans as my mouth fucks her like my cock is begging me to.
“Say my name,” I demand, slipping in two fingers as I go back to her clit and suck on it. She’s breathing erratically, her legs unable to stay still. It feels like her legs have locked my head in a vice and it’s the best place I could ever be.
She moans, not giving me what I want. Her velvet walls clamp down on my fingers, so I stop moving them. “If you want to come, you better say my name.”
There will be no denying she wants me and I want her to come back for seconds. I will not tolerate her pretending this was something she did not want.
I flick her clit in a slow rhythm and her hips buck into my face again. I stop, just as she increases her force, and she lets out a frustrated, adorable little growl of displeasure.
I lick again, enjoying this game we’re playing. “You know what to do if you want to come.”
I slip another finger into her tight pussy and she sucks in a gasp from the extra pressure. I go to town on her clit, eating her like a starved man. Just as I’m about to stop again, I hear her sweet voice.
“Soren,” she moans. “Don’t you dare stop!”
That’s all I need. I curve my fingers, hitting her G-spot, and she comes undone. My hair feels like it’s being ripped from my skull and my ears ring from the pressure of her knees as she tries to cave my head in.
Her orgasm clings to her and I steal every last drop her body is willing to give. She finally leans back as her legs release their vice-like grip and she looks fully satisfied. Yup, this was all me.
I stand up and she asks, “Where are you going?”
I chuckle. “I plan to stroke my dick to the image of you in the shower.” If I stay touching her for another moment, I might claim her. I can’t do that. I need the sheets to keep her safe from my father.