Chapter 12 Charlie #2
Luciano hesitates for a second, then without warning, he seizes me, his muscular arms picking me up effortlessly, slamming me hard against the wall.
His kisses come rough and commanding, hungry and possessive.
For weeks, I’ve wondered what it would be like kissing his chiseled face, but this…
this is more than I expected. I’ve never felt anything like this before; my whole body feels like it’s on fire.
I reach for his shirt, my fingers fumbling at the buttons, but he pushes my hands away, pinning them above my head with his brutal strength.
“Now,” he whispers close to my ear, “do you want me to destroy this pretty little cunt of yours?”
“Yes,” I moan, arching into him, craving everything he has on offer.
“Tell me to stop,” he growls, sliding one hand between my legs, two fingers plunging deep and fast into me. “You’re soaking, Principessa.”
His pace is relentless, and there is nothing gentle in his touch. I protest softly, grinding harder against his hand, urging him deeper inside me. He leans down, his mouth claiming one nipple, his tongue flicking around my piercing before biting down, his teeth tugging at me with delicious pain.
“Luciano,” I moan, my breath ragged. His thumb finds my clit, rubbing it in slow, tantalizing circles while his other fingers push inside me. My breath hitches with each forceful thrust of his hand, the heat building until I am trembling on the edge.
Then abruptly, he pulls away, dropping my ass onto the bathroom floor.
“What the fuck?” I gasp, confusion crashing through me.
He hovers over me. “Get dressed. Meet me in the office in thirty.”
And with that, he leaves me there, wet, breathless, and burning with need, sitting on the cold bathroom floor, every nerve alive with anticipation for what may come when we eventually fuck. Because if that teaser was anything, it will be nothing short of amazing.
I make my way down to the office with only minutes to spare.
It was an amazing feeling to turn my bedroom door handle open, and when I peek outside, there’s no soldier waiting.
I don’t bother knocking on the office door before pushing it open and striding in.
A smirk tugs at my lips when I see Luciano and Stefano standing at the desk.
“So, where do we start?” I announce loud enough to make sure he knows I’m here.
“Charlie, meet Rocco. Your new bodyguard,” Luciano says without looking up from the table.
I scan the room until I see him, standing stiff as a statue next to the door I just walked through. How did I miss him? He must be the tallest person I have ever seen.
“Were you the one guarding my bedroom door?” I ask him.
“Si,” he says, the confirmation in the voice I recognize.
“So how often do I get to enjoy Rocco’s company?” I ask, my voice dripping in sarcasm.
“Rocco, stand outside the door,” Luciano orders.
“Si, Don.” I watch as Rocco nearly has to duck to walk under the door frame and closes the door behind him.
“He will be with you 24/7 unless I say otherwise,” Luciano tells me.
I step closer to him. “I thought we agreed I could have freedom in the house again and only a guard when I left the estate?”
Luciano stands tall, his body exerting dominance in the room. “I’m not having a repeat of last time you went wondering,” he points out, and it feels like a slap to the face.
“Thanks for the reminder…” I mutter under my breath, “asshole.”
Stefano’s head snaps up at me, his eyes like daggers. “Fai attenzione a come parli quando parli al Don.” Watch your mouth around the Don.
Luciano eyes his brother, and he instantly backs off. I take this as my cue to walk over to the desk and take in the massive map of New York City. Red, green, and blue dots scatter all over it. I lean in, my curiosity now piqued. “What do those mean?” I ask, pointing at the chaotic map.
Luciano’s voice is low, eyeing the map. “Green are the businesses we own, blue are the ones we’re about to own, and red? Those are the hostile takeovers in progress.”
Stefano chimes in, his tone guarded as he glances my way. “I’ve got Mattia tailing the owner of Dominix. We’ll have a detailed report in seventy-two hours. Then we move to the next stage.”
I lean closer, trying to play it cool, but it’s a lot to take in. “Dominix?”
Not looking up, Luciano replies, “It’s a BDSM club.”
“Interesting,” I murmur, my fingers drumming the edge of the mahogany desk. “Can I go undercover there?” The idea sparks a dangerous thrill inside me.
Stefano shifts uncomfortably, making it obvious he isn’t happy with my presence. Luciano looks over at his brother, then cuts in, “Charlie, go to the gym. Carlo’s waiting for you.”
“For what?” I shoot back.
“Defense training.”
“I know how to defend myself, Luci,” I snap, standing my ground.
He storms around the desk to stand right in front of me. “Show me.” He lifts his chin. “Fight me, Principessa.”
I throw a punch to his chest, but he blocks it effortlessly. I try a sneaky side punch, blocked again. Out the corner of my eye, I catch Stefano smirking like he can’t wait to see my ass handed to me, making my blood boil.
I give it everything I’ve got and try launching a kick at him instead, but Luciano catches my leg, pushing me back until I hit the wall. Luciano’s face is that close to mine, I can feel his warm breath on my lips, close enough I could lean in and kiss him.
“You’ll have defensive training with Carlo three times a week,” Luciano snaps. “You’ll train with Mattia twice a week learning to shoot.”
“What if I don’t want to?” I shove him hard in the chest, frustration boiling, but he doesn’t budge. “These are my terms if you want your freedom,” he snaps.
Rage fogs my mind, and I bring my hand up and slap him across the face. “Fuck you.”
His eyes instantly darken again before he grabs me around the neck and presses down. I can feel my airways being restricted. Oh shit! I was not expecting this.
“Principessa,” he grits through his teeth. “Do that again, and I will bend you over in front of my brother and fuck you. I don’t care if you’re Caterina’s daughter. Right now, I am the Don and no one strikes the Don.”
Stefano clears his throat behind us, and my eyes go wide in shock. Luciano, clearly amused by my reaction, whispers in my ear, “Or should I shove my cock in your mouth and make him watch?”
I wrestle to get out of his grasp, which only causes him to let out a deep, throaty chuckle. “Principessa or not, keep trying to piss me off and you will be punished.”
He smashes his lips down onto mine, forcing me to open my mouth.
His tongue darts into mine, and I bite down on it with such force that I can taste his blood.
He pulls away from me and touches his tongue, his finger red with his own blood.
I feel his dick grow harder against me—this turns him on.
He grins sadistically and licks up the side of my face, like he’s marking his territory for all to see, his blood now smeared across my face.
But I stand my ground. I will not back down.
He squeezes harder on my throat, causing me to gasp for air. “You have five seconds to get out of my sight.” He lets go of me and shoves me to the side as he readjusts his growing bulge in his pants.
I clutch my throat instinctively, the sting sharp and immediate, and storm out of the room.
Rocco follows me silently up the stairs until we reach my bedroom door. He waits outside, standing guard while I shove on my workout clothes.
“So how did you get so lucky to be my babysitter?” I ask Rocco as we walk towards the gym.
“The Don gave me an order,” he says stiffly.
“Duh, but what is your specialty? Like are you the best fighter we have, are you a good shot, or did you fuck up?”
“Si,” is all he says back. Great, he’s probably been threatened by Luciano to not talk to me.
Walking into the gym, Carlo rubs his throat with a familiar smirk, the kind that says he’s been waiting for this moment—the moment that his brother snaps at me, his handprint still red raw on my neck.
“Fuck off, Carlo,” I spit. His laugh cuts through the air like a jagged knife, harshly. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard him laugh, and it catches me off guard.
Carlo turns to Rocco. “You can leave when she’s with me,” he says, but Rocco doesn’t move away from the door.
“Don told me I can only leave her alone with him,” he says, shifting slightly under Carlo’s gaze. The look on Carlo’s face is priceless, and I bet he’s thinking of a million ways to kill this soldier. I struggle to keep in my amusement.
Carlo reaches into his pocket and grabs his phone. “If you want Rocco to live, tell him to fuck off while Charlie is with me,” he grumbles into the phone.
I can’t hear what Luciano says back, but Rocco’s phone starts ringing as soon as Carlo ends his. Rocco nods. “Si,” he says before walking out the gym door.
“Thank you!” I say to Carlo.
“Suit up.” He tosses me a pair of gloves and headgear without missing a beat.
For once, I obey without argument. He peels off his shirt, folding it with a brutal neatness onto the chair, his muscles flexing and stretching beneath the intricate web of tattoos that crawl over his skin.
I can’t help but stare. Underneath the inked patterns show a map of his hardened life.
Small scars and raised burnt marks can still be seen if you look close enough.
“Do you have any bare skin at all, or is it all inked?” I tilt my head, my curiosity cutting through the tension.
“All inked.”
I press my luck, a teasing edge to my tone. “What about your ass?”
“Inked,” he replies, unfazed.
“Your dick?”
“Inked,” he confirms, voice steady, no hint of humor.
I scoff. “Seriously?”
“I don’t joke around,” Carlo says, eyes darkening. “Now punch me."
I raise my hands instinctively, my heart pounding, and launch myself forward, aiming a punch at his chest. The shock of impact sends a jolt of pain through my wrist. “Fuck, why are you so hard?” I hiss, shaking my hand.
“You punch like a fucking girl,” he retorts, stepping back.
“You punch like a fucking girl,” I mock, peeling off my shirt to stand before him in just my sports bra and gym pants.
“Play games with my brother, not me, little girl,” he warns, lunging forward to jab me hard in the ribs.
The sting is sharp and real. “Ow! Are you fucking serious?” I clutch my side and breathe through the pain. I’m not used to this. My style of exercising is running.
“You even cuss like a fucking girl.”
“Do you want me to magically grow a dick?” I challenge, squaring up to him. His fist connects again, sending me stumbling backward. “You’re really starting to piss me off, Carlo.” I raise my hands defensively and bounce on my feet, copying his stance.
“Good. Get angry,” he urges. I lunge forward, slamming my fist into his arm. “Again,” he commands, and we start to trade blows, a relentless back-and-forth that leaves my lungs burning and my arms trembling with exhaustion.
I collapse onto the mat, closing my eyes for a second while I gasp to catch my breath, the sting of sweat in my eyes. Suddenly, cold water splashes over me, shocking me. “What the fuck, Carlo?” I gasp.
“Run,” he says, voice sharp and uncompromising.
“Run? Run where?”
“You have ten seconds. If I catch you, I’ll tell Luciano to punish you.” His eyes gleam with a challenge, a predator ready for a hunt.
“Let me rest,” I plead. “You just made me spar with you for an hour. My body is so sore.”
“Our enemies don’t rest,” he counters. “You need to be faster, you need to learn how to endure the pain.” He begins the countdown, “Ten, nine, eight…” Oh, shit, he’s serious. Adrenaline surges through me, sharpening every sense.
I spring to my feet and bolt from the gym, the estate blurring as I race down the path.
“Five, four, three…” I can hear him yell. My heart hammers in my chest, breath ragged, legs burning with the effort. I don’t dare look back, but the snap of a twig behind me sends a jolt of fear through my spine.
For a man his size, Carlo moves with terrifying speed. Pain gnaws at all my muscles, but I push through, desperation driving me forward until I see a shooting range up ahead. Thank God it’s empty. I dive behind a target, crouching low, fighting to steady my breath.
“I can smell your fear, Charlie,” Carlo’s voice cuts through the silence, mockingly close. “You need to learn to hide your fear from others, or they will eat you alive.”
He’s closing in. The temptation to give up, to let him find me and let Luciano decide my fate, claws at me. But the challenge hangs in the air. I need this win, this small victory.
I grab a handful of rocks, hurling them to the left to create a distraction. Then I leap from my hiding spot, crashing straight into Carlo’s sweaty chest.
“Ewww!” I say, scrunching my face up in disgust, while trying to wipe his sweat off me.
“No one fools me,” he laughs. He’s loving this. These brothers are crazy!
“Shit,” I mutter when I realize I’ve just lost.
“Run!” he orders, giving me a second chance, and I don’t hesitate to take off again. My little legs pump as fast as I can, while my lungs burn with every step. I’m used to running to stay fit, but this is some next level shit. I hope I don’t have to do this every lesson.
The house draws closer with every frantic step. I can feel Carlo’s presence haunting just behind me, but he never calls me out. Somehow, I reach the gym first, breathless and triumphant.
He tosses me a bottle of water from the fridge and steps out of the gym, leaving me utterly exhausted. Rocco enters within seconds of Carlo leaving.
“Oh great, you’re back,” I mumble. He just nods his head in my direction, acknowledging he heard me.