I’ve spent so many restless nights silently begging for someone to hold me, but not like this. Not him.
It’s not fair.
Fate is cruel.
The moment I fall asleep, my body will instinctually seek him out. He’s so big. So warm. I’ll reach out for him. Curl myself around him. Try to burrow under his skin.
He’ll react the way any hot-blooded man would, roaming his hands over me and taking liberties I don’t intend to give. By the time I wake up, we’ll be way too far along to stop.
I’ve already proven I’m a terrible liar. I can’t pretend he doesn’t turn me on. No matter how messed up our situation is or how muddled my emotions are, my body is one hundred percent ready for him. If I fall asleep on this bed, I’ll lose my virginity to Ermanno Mancini.
And I’ll have no one to blame but myself.
Using all the tricks I learned to stay awake while in college, I bite the tip of my tongue and run through a few calculations in my mind until the numbers stop matching.
He’s still awake. His slow breathing may mimic someone asleep, but after years of drugging people into unconsciousness, I know he still has too much tension and awareness in his body to be sleeping.
After biting my tongue again and waiting a few more minutes, I sigh, grab my pillow and top blanket, and scoot forward to slip onto the floor.
Massive fingers wrap around my arm.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“The floor.”
“Why?”
“I can’t sleep on the bed with you.
“Are you insulting my control?”
“No, I’m insulting mine. I’m not a restful sleeper. Trust me, it’s better for us both if I sleep on the floor.”
His growl sends shivers down my spine and heat between my legs.
“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you sleep on the floor,” he snarls.
I open my mouth to argue, but he pulls me to the center of the bed and tucks the sheets so tight around me I can’t lift my arms away from my torso. Before I can wriggle free, he snatches up his pillow and blanket and settles on the floor in front of the barricaded door.
“Ermanno, I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t say my name unless you want my tongue down your throat and my cock balls deep in your pussy,” he growls.
I close my mouth so fast my teeth click together. His amused huff curls around my throbbing clit. I hold my breath until the urge to reach between my legs and stroke away the ache subsides.
His residual body heat emanates from his side of the bed.
“If you’re not asleep in five minutes, I’m rejoining you on the bed. Capisci?”
“Capisci,” I confirm.
I wiggle to free my arms but stop when the pressure sinks deep into my bones. It feels like a hug. I relax my muscles and take a deep breath. The blanket restricts my chest from fully expanding, but comfort flows through me. The moment I relax, I slip into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Without warning, I pop awake and stare into half-lidded slate-grey eyes. A sexy smile flashes across Ermanno’s handsome face.
“I thought you were a restless sleeper?”
His sleep roughened voice melts my bones.
“What?” I mumble.
“You haven’t moved. At all,” he says.
Still reeling from my sudden alertness, my mind takes an embarrassing amount of time to process his words.
He’s right. I’m still mummified in the blanket.
My face heats with a blush. I wriggle my arms free and clear my throat.
“Stress affects sleeping habits and I was exhausted. Sorry,” I say.
I freeze when he reaches toward my face, torn between swatting his hand away and leaning into his touch. Starting the day with violence doesn’t bode well for my first full day in captivity, but with my defenses down from the best night of sleep I’ve had in over eight months, I’m scared I won’t be able to resist him.
He cups the side of my face and brushes his thumb along my cheek.
“I’m glad you slept well, gattina. You’re going to need it for what I’m going to do to you tonight.”
My heart pounds against my sternum and heat arrows to my core. I squeeze my fists in the blankets and hold his stare despite my insides trembling.
When I neither argue nor relent, he smirks and moves away.
“Get dressed. We’re leaving,” he says before walking into the hall and locking the door behind him.
I stare at the space I last saw him for a moment. His ass looks way too good in sweats. I bet it looks impossibly better in a suit.
I clear my throat and struggle my way into a seated position.
While I slept like a swaddled baby in the middle of the bed, he pushed the dresser back against the wall, placed a change of clothes for me on the corner of the bed, and left a steaming mug of coffee on the bedside table.
I blink and scowl as my heart melts. He kidnapped me. I shouldn’t trust him. Taking his gestures as acts of kindness is just wrong. He’s obligated to provide food and drink for me since I have no way of getting it myself.
Except what other brutal mafia man would also braid my hair, sleep on the floor, and allow me as much privacy as he has?
I swallow the sudden lump in my throat and push the tendril of hair that escaped from my braid behind my ear and glance at the camera.
He could be watching right now, but I don’t think he is. If he was that much of a creep, he would’ve made me shower with the curtain open and gawked at me the entire time.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, realize my shoes sit on the floor, and grab the stack of clothes. At first confusion then anger spears through me as I realize he gave me a pair of my boxer briefs, jeans, and socks, but no shirt or bra. Which means he wants me to wear his oversized shirt all day. Braless.
I glance down and silently curse my stiff nipples. Even through the black fabric, they’re obvious.
Whatever. This is not a battle I’m willing to fight. It’s not worth earning his ire or jeopardizing my sister’s safety, so I pull on my socks, thread my legs into my panties and jeans, slip my feet into my sneakers, then stand and pull them both up in one motion, using the oversized shirt as coverage just in case he is watching through the camera.
My bladder complains. I eye the coffee. It smells amazing, but I can’t risk it yet.
I knock on the door and step back. A few seconds later, Ermanno opens the door and leans on the frame with his eyes roaming over me. My heart leaps into my throat at the hunger in his gaze.
“I need the toilet,” I say.
He stands and gestures for me to lead him down the hall. I sigh a silent breath of relief when he shuts the bathroom door between us.
“You have five minutes, mia gattina, then I’m coming in after you,” he says.
His voice carries clear through the thin material. He probably has a key nearby, but even if he doesn’t, he’d have no problem breaking the door down.
I grunt in acceptance and rush through taking care of business. Even though the five minutes aren’t up, he opens the door when I turn off the sink after washing my hands.
He crosses his arms over his chest and studies the bathroom before turning his focus to me.
Alarm spears through me when he stalks into the bathroom, overwhelming the space with his bulk, and grabs me by the shoulders. I drop one shoulder and jab my elbow toward his stomach, but he expects my strike and blocks with his forearm while moving back.
“Mia gattina is feisty this morning, isn’t she?”
He turns on the sink and takes a can of hair mousse from the back of the counter without touching me.
I huff, cross my arms over my chest, and glare at him through the mirror.
“Maybe use your words like a big boy instead of trying to manhandle me like a Neanderthal next time,” I snarl.
One overly handsome eyebrow lifts as he wets his hand and adds a few pumps of the mousse to his palm. The intensity of his eyes as he meets my glare through our reflections drops the floor out from under me.
He wraps his dry hand around my throat and lowers his lips to my ear before whispering.
“Don’t lie to yourself, Loretta.” He rubs his thumb over my jugular and nips my earlobe. I gasp and dig my nails into my arms. “It’s okay to be greedy and want the best of both worlds.” He tightens his grip around my throat and nuzzles my temple. “You want me to pin you down and have my way with you as I whisper sweet threats in your ear, don’t you, mia gattina?”
Liquid fire invades my veins. My entire body burns hot. I can’t breathe. Need pulses through me. My nipples pebble and breasts feel swollen as I tighten my arms around my chest. Wetness seeps into my panties and my clit throbs for relief.
I want him. I want him so badly every cell in my body aches, but I can’t have him. Not with my sister’s safety on the line. Not when he could crush me so easily. Not with so many dangers lurking around us and no certainty of the future.
If I gave in and had sex with him, I’d never be the same. He’d forever have access to my soul. The thought terrifies me.
He terrifies me.
His expression darkens as he studies my reaction. He trails his fingers over my throat and kisses my temple before releasing me and stepping back.
“It seems mia gattina needs more sweet talk before we can get to the heavy petting. Don’t worry, amore mio, for you, I can be patient,” he rumbles.
I blink as relief, disappointment, and uncertainty spear through me, then nearly melt into a heap of mush when he works the mousse into my braid, massaging my scalp. My toes curl in my socks, pressing against the cold floor, and pleasure streaks down my spine.
Despite his thick digits and the lethal strength in his hands, he tidies my flyaways and straightens my braid without pulling my hair once.
He couldn’t have meant it when he called me amore mio, right? I’m not his love. A person can’t fall in love after only a few hours together, no matter how crazy those hours were.
He’s mocking me. He must be.
So why can’t my mind stop replaying his deep rumble when he spoke the words or the gentleness of his fingers as he fixed my hair?
I shove the wonder creeping through my heart away and box my thoughts for later when he leans over the sink to wash his hands. Skirting around him, I exit the bathroom as though I have every right and return to the bedroom for my cup of coffee.
He fills the doorframe with his bulk.
“Are you testing your freedom, gattina?” he asks.
I shrug and gulp down the java. It’s still hot enough to sting but not scald, so I down half the cup before coming up for air.
“There’s nothing to test. I have no freedom. Hanging on your every word, right?”
I shouldn’t poke the monster looming over my shoulder, but my indignation demands an outlet as I recall his threats as he shoved me into his car in broad daylight. He may have thought I was Julieta, but I wasn’t. I was me.
He chuckles and pulls his car keys out of his pocket.
“That’s what you’re holding a grudge over?”
I scoff and pour sickly sweet sarcasm into my tone.
“Don’t worry, amore mio, for you, I can be petty.”
I know it’s a mistake before I even finish speaking, but the flash of surprise, disbelief, and hurt twisting his features is so worth it.
Until he grabs my nape, steals my coffee, sets it on the dresser, and pulls me flush against him with his gigantic hand splayed over my lower back.
“My patience only goes so far, gattina. Don’t say things you don’t mean unless you want me to prove you wrong. Capisci?”
His eyes dip to my lips. I swallow. The hunger in his gaze intensifies as he watches my throat bob.
“Respect goes both ways, Erma—” I stop when he squeezes my nape in warning. After closing my eyes and taking a steadying breath—which rubs my hard nipples against his chest—I meet his glare and answer with as little emotion as I can manage.
“I’m not your toy and I don’t play well with others. Sure, you’re bigger and stronger, but I won’t be your doormat. I’ll always fight back and protect myself.”
He takes a deep breath. Need pulses between my legs as a euphoric expression flashes across his features, but he grows serious when he opens his eyes and pierces my soul with his grey irises. My heart leaps into my throat when he pulls me tighter against him.
“You’ve got it all wrong, gattina. I’m not playing a game, and I said nothing I didn’t mean.”
He’s serious. The blood drains from my face even as delight bubbles in my chest.
I can’t handle my jumbled emotions with him holding me so tightly. He could satisfy the black hole in my chest far too easily.
I can’t betray my sister, so I dig my nails into his arms and push. He doesn’t budge, but I’ve made my wishes known. Despite my yearning to hide my face, I hold his stare and push again.
He relents this time.
I grab my coffee and drain the last drop, needing a reprieve no matter how short it may be. As the caffeine rushes through my veins, I cup the mug between both of my hands, letting the residual heat seep into my fingers, and step further away from my captor.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
The muscles in his jaw flex as he studies me. After a few moments of silence, he grunts and exits the room. With a last glance at the chair and chains combo on the far side of the room, I follow him to the kitchen, deposit the mug into the sink, and trail after him when he grabs my duffel, his bag, and a clothing bag off the couch on his way to the front door.
He doesn’t say a word as he stalks up the stairs and swings the bags into the trunk. The breeze cuts through my shirt, so I cross my arms over my chest to hide my peaked nipples and drop into the passenger seat when he opens the door and gestures inside.
When he leans over and buckles me in, I grit my teeth and uncross my arms. He quirks a brow but doesn’t further taunt me before closing the door.
I keep quiet despite, or maybe because of, my curiosity as he pulls out of the parking spot and turns onto the road. Dread grows in my chest as I realize he’s headed toward my apartment.
Logically, I knew the first place he’d check was my address, but the thought of him being so close to Livia fills me with unease.
And I’ll never admit it, but having him invade my sanctuary sends a thrill of uncertainty and excitement through me. Only my twin has ever set foot in my home.
He’ll crush me if he mocks my eccentricities, but maybe if he does, it won’t be so hard to resist him.
Deep within the recesses of my soul, I cackle at myself.
No matter how much I deny it, I’ve already fallen for him. The bastard snuck through my defenses with his verbal sparring, unrepentant touches, and caring gestures.
A bond has formed between our hearts. It may not be as intrinsic as my connection with my sister, but it’s there.
I’m on the path of loving the most brutal and terrifying consigliere in New York City, and there’s no way to slow my fall.
I’m fucked on so many levels.
