Chapter 17
Lily
The voice is unfamiliar to me, but anyone who knows my full name poses a risk.
Dominico senses the fear, and his hand that was deliciously squeezing my ass is now comfortingly stroking my back. His eyes remain locked with mine, even as he speaks.
“And you are?” I remain stiff in his arms, eagerly anticipating this intruder's answer to Dominico's question. His tone carries irritation, intertwined with other emotions I cannot decipher as his gaze explores my face, absorbing every morsel of reaction I allow to surface.
“Dominico, there you are, starting the party without us, I see,” another man interrupts, leaving the question to the man who knows my name unanswered.
Dominico’s gaze finally shifts from me as he looks behind us.
“Emilio, good to see you. But you should warn your associates that I do not tolerate unanswered questions.”
I still haven't turned around, my eyes glued instead to the man who has wrapped his arm around me protectively.
“Ahh, Don, no insult intended. This is Senator John Underwood, one of the top three candidates running for the next vice presidential election.” Fuck.
I had met this man briefly on two occasions—two occasions I would rather forget, as his inappropriate behavior toward me and his inability to keep his hands to himself resulted in two of the most severe beatings of my life.
I shiver just thinking about it and shut my eyes, trying to prevent the tears that I can feel prickling at the back of my eyes from falling.
“Did you like his hands on you, little whore?” Memories pop up, filling my mind with little snippets of what followed. Blood. Broken bones. Punishment. For something I didn’t do when I tried telling him that this disgusting man came onto me. That it was his fault.
I truly hated that men believed they had the right to touch me as if I were property to be passed around.
“Nero, take our guests to the red room. We will be there shortly.” I’m so lost in my thoughts that I only realize we are alone when Dominico touches my cheek.
“Who is he to you?”
His question lingers in the air. How could I answer Dominico without revealing everything that had happened to me? He was aware of my situation, but I still wasn't sure how much he truly knew.
“Someone connected to my past and to unpleasant memories,” I respond, silently pleading that he does not ask for more.
After staring at me for a long time, he grunts.
With me still sitting on him, he stands and gently lowers me so my feet can meet the ground.
My body is pressed close, his desire digging into my abdomen.
My core clenches in response, the heat and lust that had faded fanning into flames as his hand slides down my back and over my ass.
His other hand holds my chin gently, directing my face so that I am compelled to meet his gaze without the option to look away.
“One day, you will tell me everything.” His silver-grey eyes scan my face, and then he lowers his head, his lips brushing mine briefly, like a whisper.
Damn. I long to know how his lips would feel on mine—fully and completely devouring me.
But the moment is fleeting as he releases my chin, causing my eyes to fly open.
We then move toward a door guarded by two of Dominico’s men at the rear of the VIP area.
Dominico keeps physical contact with me, his large, strong hand resting on my lower back, where it stays as we walk down a long corridor.
We approach a large room, its red lighting and music hinting at what lies beyond. Sensual music accompanies alluring movements as women dance throughout the space, either on poles on small stages surrounded by chairs or on the laps of men who caress them and gaze at them with unrestrained desire.
My eyes flare when I spot a couple actually fucking, out here in public.
Roughly. After everything I have been through, I should want it gentle.
Careful. But no. Thoughts of Dominico handling me like a porcelain doll as he fucks me is not what turns me on.
I want him driving into me forcefully. Hard.
Deep. With his hand around my neck. My core clenches deliciously at the visual, and I glance up to see that Dominico is already looking at me.
"Soon." Is all he says while I blush a fierce red.
A waitress dressed only in a G-string approaches us.
Dominico hands me a glass of champagne before taking his own drink.
I take a sip and then scan the rest of the room, immediately spotting Senator John Underwood on the other side.
A young stripper captivates his attention, her gyrating movements on a nearby pole doing the trick.
Thankfully. He preferred women younger than his fifty years.
With a balding grey head and a massive belly, he relied on his political standing, power, and wealth to attract the kinds of women he favored.
And women who didn’t want him were even more appealing.
That’s why he was so fond of me. Bile rises as I think about it, so I shift my focus.
One person I do not expect to see is Basilio, who is sitting with none other than Camille. Joy. As if this night couldn’t get worse.
Basilio's eyes immediately meet mine, and then his gaze sweeps up to my brown hair before traveling downward, his eyes flickering with an emotion I try to ignore.
One that alludes to Dominico's words to me at the club when we first met being true. That Basilio is in love with me. The scowl that forms when Dominico’s hand drifts from my back to take mine at my side is as shocking to Basilio as it is to me.
He frowns, then looks away, while my eyes drop to our intertwined hands.
Dominico continues as if this is the most normal thing in the world.
We approach the group, which consists of Dante sitting next to Basilio and between him and Nero, the waitress who served us earlier.
The one Nero has very strong feelings for, though he is trying hard to fight them.
But then, so is she. She is trying to create distance between them by shifting closer to Dante, which makes Nero even angrier as he eventually leans in and whispers something to her.
Something she doesn’t like as she raises her hand to slap him.
He catches it just before it lands, making her furious, while he very nearly smiles. I have never seen him smile genuinely.
“Cousin, you made it.” Dominico’s words to Basilio, as we sit on some seating opposite them, draw the attention of everyone nearby. Camille frowns, likely because she doesn’t quite recognize me.
“Of course. I needed to check out the competition,” Basilio says with a joke, though an edge lingers in his tone that fades when he speaks to me.
“Daisy, how have you been?” He speaks to me with that gentleness that has always been present, making Camille frown.
“I’m fine, thank you. But you can call me Lily.” I blush as all eyes are on me, including Dominico’s, who intently watches this interaction. His arm is slung across the backrest, his fingers gently stroking the back of my neck, setting my nerves on edge even further.
“Daisy? Oh my word, I didn’t recognize you. I thought by now you would be gone,” Camille says, her words confusing as she casually picks up her glass and takes a sip.
“Gone where?” I ask, not missing the warning glare that Basilio gives her, which she clearly fails to notice.
“Back where you belong, with that ex of yours. I mean, ten million is a lot of money to pass up just for little old you.”
“Camille, shut the fuck up,” Basilio says, his voice deadly as he places his glass on the table, his anger so intense that his hands are clenched into fists.
Finally, she reads the room, the blood draining from her face as she looks around and then at Basilio.
“What? That’s what you said. You told me that’s why you kept her around when I asked if you had feelings for her.
You said it was just because of the money.
” I don’t even know why the hurt I feel bubbles up.
Maybe it's because I thought Basilio genuinely cared for me.
Perhaps it's because it makes me feel alone, knowing I was only kept as a trading chip.
There to be passed around with no concern for what I wanted.
“Lily, that’s not it. That’s not the reason,” Basilio says, his eyes pleading with me.
The only warning I receive for what happens next is the pressure on my neck before it disappears, and then I am lifted, forced into the same position I was earlier, kneeling over Dominico. I find myself face to face with him while my back is turned to everyone .
“Lily is not going anywhere.” Dominico’s hands slide down my waist and once again cups my ass, pulling me forward so that mere millimeters separate us. My pebbled nipples brush against the front of his suit, sending electric shocks down my body to a spot between my legs.
How is it possible for me to swing from one emotion to another?
One minute I am upset, and the next I am buzzing with lust. It is him.
He is gorgeous. The shadows and red light enhance his features, making them appear more menacing and, in turn, more attractive.
His black hair is perfectly styled. His sharp, chiseled jaw is clean-shaven.
Long black eyelashes frame his stunning silver-grey eyes that seem to peer into my soul. His lips are pulled into a smirk.
“Do you want to leave, Lily?” His voice is husky and low, stirring the butterflies in my stomach. The scent of whiskey on his breath is nearly intoxicating, and I moisten my lips with my tongue, suddenly parched while leaning forward.
Did I want to leave? Honestly, right now, at this moment, there is nowhere else I would rather be.
I shake my head, my ponytail swinging at the action.
Before I can react, Dominico wraps it around his hand, fisting it to create the perfect grip for control.
He tilts my head slightly to the side as he slowly closes the distance between us.
My breath quickens, coming out in short pants as our noses almost touch.
“ Mi stai facendo impazzire .”
His words are followed by his lips crashing against mine, dominating and demanding mine part for him, as eager to taste him as he is me.
My hand moves from his shoulder into the hair at his nape, my nails dragging against his skin, trying to get more of him as he, too, pulls me close.
His hand is no longer in my ponytail but instead kneads my ass along with the other one, his fingers curling around and under, so close to a spot that is now aching.
This kiss exceeds anything I have ever experienced. It is so incredibly powerful, so exhilarating, and so mind-blowing that when he finally releases me, the reality of what has happened and where we are takes a moment to crash down on me.
Oh my word. We are in his club, in front of his capo and underboss, in front of Basilio.
My eyes flare with the realization as crimson stains my cheeks.
I can barely move from the embarrassment—embarrassment that wars with desire.
I feel both unsettled and more turned on than I have ever been in my whole life.
Dominico smirks, reading me like the book I have become to him.
“Lily will not be going anywhere,” he says, the sudden silence around us making his words loud enough for all to hear.
“She is mine.”