She melts against me, and for a moment, I almost give in and snuggle her closer, but then her sister’s words echo in my mind.
“You never mentioned a Russian man, gattina,” I snarl.
She squints up at me in confusion until her adrenaline drops to a manageable level. A stubborn glint enters her crystal-green eyes, so when I lift my hand away from her face, I know I won’t like whatever she says, but her safety and the Russo family’s relies on her answer.
“Did you hear everything my sister said?”
Although posed in the form of a question, her words and tone accuse me of doing something wrong.
“Yes, I did,” I say.
All the emotion drains from her face.
“Get your hands off me,” she demands.
I tighten my arm around her midsection.
She slams the back of her head against my sternum, encircles my wrist with both of her hands, and twists as she drops her weight. I catch her braid and almost find my balance through the pain, but I stumble when she gives my wrist a vicious yank as she pivots to the side.
Her momentum swings me toward the row of washing machines, and I snarl as I smack my shoulder against the metal. She sweeps her leg, almost taking my knees out from behind, but I shift and take the blow on one leg to remain upright. With a furious snarl, I yank her up by her hair and bend her over the stainless steel table. Higher than the average counter, the folding station puts her ass at the perfect height, so after a quick swat on each globe, I pin her hips to the edge by grinding my hard cock against her.
“Stop fighting, mia gattina. No matter how dirty you play, I’ll play dirtier. I’ll win no matter what it takes,” I snarl.
She fights my grip on her nape and sinks her nails into the back of my hand, so I pull her arms down the table and force her wrists to the small of her back.
“Just let me go!” she hisses and bucks. “You’re going to leave anyway, so what does it matter who wins?”
The hurt in her voice curls through my heart, and I pause with my hand an inch away from her hair.
“Why would I leave you, Loretta?” I growl as her struggling results in her ass jiggling around my hard cock.
“Why wouldn’t you? You heard her.” With an angry hiss, she twists her shoulders, but I tighten my grip around her wrists and enjoy the sight of her breasts squished against the flat surface. “My twin sister thinks I’m a curse. She wants me gone, so you will too,” she says through gritted teeth.
I thrust my hips and bury my fist in her hair, ready to fuck her in the laundry room if it’ll dispel such a stupid notion from her thoughts, but she chokes on a scoff and cranes her neck to meet my eyes.
“You know what I can’t understand?”
The depths of her torment spear through my soul.
“If even a brutal man like you can be loved, why can’t I? Why is there no one in my corner? Why am I always alone?”
She masks her pain with fury, but nothing can hide the despair lurking in her eyes.
I release her wrists, wrap my hand around her throat, and pull her up by her hair until she has no choice but to lean back against me and meet my stare.
“You’re mine, Loretta. I’m never letting you go, no matter what secrets you’re keeping from me,” I growl.
She sneers and wraps both hands around my wrist.
“I’m not yours. You’ll never keep me. You’ll throw me out just like my family did when you learn the truth.”
I give her braid a gentle shake and demand, “What truth, gattina? What happened?”
“Some secrets are too horrible to reveal,” she says through gritted teeth.
“Does it have to do with the Russians?” I ask.
“No.”
“Then it’s not important. It won’t change how I feel about you,” I insist.
Judging by the hard gleam in her eyes, she won’t believe me no matter what I say, so I release her hair and grab her breast. Her sharp inhale and hard nipple triple the inferno roaring through my veins.
She drops one hand and claws at my forearm as I knead and pinch her breast.
“You don’t have to believe me yet, gattina. I’ll prove it to you,” I murmur.
Her pupils dilate and she wiggles her hips. I thrust my hard cock against her ass, the friction of our clothes stifling. I need her pussy clamped around my cock as she squirts her juices down my legs.
Her throat vibrates with her moan as I nip the top of her ear.
I slip my hand under her shirt, yank her bra up to her collarbone, and fill my fist with her soft, full breast.
“Stop. Someone else was in here,” she hisses.
“They’re gone now. Tell me what happened with the Russian man,” I demand with my lips against her temple.
“I think it was my sister’s boyfriend. We need to stop,” she groans.
I freeze.
“You think the Russian man was your sister’s boyfriend?”
“What? No! I think the guy who was just in here was my sister’s boyfriend. I think he followed me,” she says.
A dark need for violence rises in me.
“Why would he do that?” I snarl.
She wriggles as I pinch her nipple.
“I don’t know, but I saw him in my sister’s apartment. Maybe he heard us through the intercom?” she suggests in a breathy voice.
“What makes you think he would listen?” I ask as I move my attention to her other breast.
“I felt someone watching me when I came home alone last night,” she says.
I roll her nipple between my fingers and enjoy her gasp as I snarl into her hair.
“You didn’t mention it last night.”
“I was a little distracted,” she huffs.
“How about now? Are you distracted? Will you forget to tell me things now?”
She hesitates. I sink my nails into her soft flesh, threatening to scratch over the turgid peak if she doesn’t answer correctly.
“N-no. I won’t forget,” she stutters.
“Good. Now answer me, gattina, before I bend you over and fuck you right here in the laundry room.”
She shivers in anticipation, causing my nails to dig into her areola.
“How long ago did you meet the Russian your sister mentioned?” I ask.
“I didn’t meet him. He barged into the clinic, drew a gun, and promised to kill anyone who didn’t listen,” she says.
Her choppy breaths make my grip on her breast precarious. I flex my digits around her throat and enjoy the pounding of her pulse against my fingertips.
“What did he want?”
I flick my tongue over the top of her ear.
“He forced my sister to operate on his boss.”
Her growly, hissed response tells me everything I need to know.
She had nothing to do with Ralf or his crew before that night.
“Were you the anesthesiologist that night?”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t cower, did you? You didn’t back down or show fear. You challenged him despite the gun in your face, didn’t you?”
Despite the fury roaring through me at the thought of another man coveting her bravery, the need to conquer and coddle her war within me. I scratch over her nipple and relish her hiss as she answers.
“I did. He would’ve killed us all if his boss died on the operating table.”
I knead her full breast to soften the sting before trailing my palm down her soft belly.
“What happened when you stood up to him?” I whisper into her ear.
She gasps and wriggles when I tease the flesh above her belt.
“He tried to take me with him, but I locked the door.”
“Good girl. Then what?”
She shakes her head, rubbing her braid against my chest, and tugs at my wrists, but I grind my cock against her ass and pull the end of her belt out of her belt loops.
“Stop, Ermanno. This isn’t—”
“I warned you what would happen if you said my name.” I unbuckle her belt and pop open the button on her jeans. “Answer me, gattina,” I growl into her hair.
Her whimper vibrates under my palm.
“The cops showed up and he ran away,” she says.
I unzip her pants and bury my hand in her panties. We both groan as I stroke her soft, slick flesh.
“You’re already wet for me, aren’t you, gattina?”
She nods but tries to pull my hands off her. I growl and yank her higher up my chest, forcing her onto her tiptoes so she doesn’t choke and giving me better access to her sex. She gasps as I sink my middle finger into her tight, wet pussy.
“This was eight months ago, wasn’t it?” I ask.
She nods her head.
“Yes. How did you know?” she asks.
I growl and bite her ear as I work a second finger into her body.
“That’s the same night I died twice after they kidnapped my don’s new bride.”
She stiffens and cranes her neck to aim wide eyes at me.
It’s too much.
I lean down and capture her mouth in a punishing kiss as I yank her jeans and panties down to her mid-thigh, free my cock, and sink balls deep into her tight, wet pussy. With her back arched and her legs held together by her pants, her breasts bounce under her shirt and she moans into my mouth as I hit her G-spot with every thrust.
She’s so slick and responsive I hang on to my control by a thread as I devour her mouth and thrust impossibly deeper into her pussy. Her squeak encourages me to thrust faster. Deeper. Harder.
She kisses me with such desperation my heart aches, and I worry the pounding in my chest will crack my sternum.
I mimic the rhythm with my hips and find her clit with my fingertips.
She stiffens and turns her head away. I snarl, yank her face back toward mine, and sink my tongue so deep she gags.
Her entire body tightens. I pinch her clit. She bites my tongue.
My control breaks. I give a vicious thrust of my cock and roll her clit between my fingers.
She opens her mouth on a silent scream, releasing my tongue as her pussy clenches around me. Magma shoots from my balls to my tip, and I lick her tongue and teeth as I fill her womb with my seed, needing to claim every inch of her as she flies apart so gloriously around me.
Wave after wave of pleasure barrels through me. Her insides squeeze my cock so hard stars dance along my periphery. I shift my hips and groan as she convulses through another orgasm.
When the last spurt of liquid fire leaves my tip, I lift my head and nibble on her lips, chin, and cheeks as we drift back to earth.
Her gasping breaths brush over my face. I bend down, pulling a groan from us both as my cock shifts in her, and worship her mouth with mine before leaning back and studying her face until she opens her eyes.
“You’re mine, Loretta. He’ll never touch you again,” I promise.
She blinks and shudders before shaking her head. I recall her words about me leaving.
“I need you, gattina. I won’t ever let you go,” I vow.
Her vibrant green irises shimmer with tears. She closes her lashes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again.
The hard glint in her eyes and the stubborn set of her chin seals her fate.
I growl and circle her clit, earning a hiss from her, and sink my glistening digits into my mouth with a groan.
Her eyes widen. I lick her juices from my hand before giving her a quick, searing kiss and whispering against her lips.
“You brought this upon yourself, gattina. This is to remember I’ll have your taste on my tongue all day long.”
I bite the tip of her tongue. She gasps. I bend her over the table and pull my cock out of her drenched pussy inch by inch.
The cool air can’t compare to her hot, tight sheath, but I let my cock drip onto the floor as I watch my cum seep out of her pussy. Unable to resist, I scoop my finger through the viscous fluid and push it back into her. She gasps and flutters around my digit.
“Mio Dio, you’re perfect,” I snarl.
She stiffens as I yank my hands away from her and tug her panties up her legs, ignoring the box of tissues at the back of the shelf.
“What are you doing? That’s so gross,” she says.
I ignore her and finish dressing her before whipping her belt out of her jeans and tying her wrists together behind her back.
“You’re mine, gattina. If I want your pussy dripping with my cum all day, then it will.”
Her pupils dilate, and the flush on her cheeks deepens. I pull her up by her nape and grab her chin before speaking against her lips.
“If I want you by my side forever, then I’ll do whatever it takes, including tie you up, toss you over my shoulder, and drag you to the altar.”
Before she can argue, I pour every ounce of my devotion into her mouth, worshipping and praising her with my teeth and tongue. When I pull back, she blinks dazed eyes up at me.
“Be my wife, Loretta.”
She sucks down a breath and shakes her head as much as my grip allows.
“No,” she mumbles.
I sigh and nip her cheek.
“I wasn’t asking. Scream and fight all you want, gattina, but it won’t stop me. We’ll be husband and wife by the end of the day.”
She grits her teeth and glares at me.
I tuck my filthy cock into my pants before shucking off my suit coat and draping it over her shoulders. When I turn her around and reach under her shirt, she hisses and tries to wriggle away, but I pin her ass against the edge of the table with my hips and take my time fixing her bra, enjoying her shivers as I caress her breasts and thumb her nipples. With a flush working up her chest and neck, I tuck her into the tight material, mourning the loss of her jiggling flesh, and fix her shirt before buttoning my suit coat and scooping her into a cradle hold against my chest.
When I reach the stairwell, not willing to take the elevator and potentially get stuck with a stranger ogling mia gattina, the diabolical woman turns fiery eyes up to mine and quirks a brow.
“I never took you as a liar,” she sneers.
I pause with my foot on the bottom step.
“Excuse me?” I challenge.
“This isn’t over your shoulder.”
When the meaning of her words sinks in through my anticipation and fury, I throw my head back with the first full belly laugh I’ve had in my adult life and pull her tighter against my chest.
“You’re such a needy, demanding gattina, aren’t you? All claws and spit. Never change, Loretta. You’re perfect,” I rumble against her temple before kissing her forehead and starting up the stairs.
She grumbles under her breath and wriggles but doesn’t struggle enough to disrupt my balance as I scale the stairs.
“Don’t worry, amore mio. I’ll toss you over my shoulder before we tie the knot,” I promise.
She looks everywhere but at me as I stalk through the foyer and exit through the side door.
She may not have the words to convey her thoughts, but her expressive eyes tell me everything I need to know.
I settle her in my passenger seat and buckle her in, still with her arms bound behind her back, and caress her face until she meets my stare.
She swallows and studies my face.
I’ll erase the doubts shining in her eyes. Words haven’t worked, so I’ll prove I mean them by following through. I’ll give her everything.
My heart and soul. My body. My protection. My last name.
My family.
Loretta Giordano already owns every part of me. Now it’s time to tell the world.
She’s mine. My bride. My obsession. My life.
Mine.
