Page 39

Nine

NIKOLAS

Laya owned me. She was in my thoughts, my blood, under my skin, in every fucking breath. Instead of focusing on the confrontation with Stefano and Markos, my mind lingered on visions of Laya, flushed and thoroughly satisfied from this morning. She had intoxicated me from the first taste. Every kiss, every touch of her skin deepened my addiction.

Days later, I still couldn’t get enough. Good thing I’d moved her into my bedroom that evening; this way, I could turn some of my urges into reality.

Why feign modesty? The entire household had heard her cries. They knew she was mine. I had no intention of hiding it.

I had stopped caring about others’ opinions, gossip, or judgmental looks, especially those of my brothers. Their obsession with bloodlines only highlighted their ignorance.

If Laya and I were blessed with a child, continuing the Galanis-Vitalis legacy would solidify our family’s power. That was a concept Stefano and Markos failed to understand.

My idiot brothers were plotting—details unclear, but retaliation was coming.

I’d warned them—Laya was off-limits. Mine. I had warned them. Now they’d face the consequences.

I navigated the narrow, winding roads of a small village I had chosen as our meeting spot. According to the clock on my dashboard, I would arrive early, so I was prepared for this confrontation.

If they continued this campaign against Laya, they were as good as done.

I didn’t expect to care this much again after Mama and Cora. There was a spark in her, blending with innocence, not just the fact that she was a virgin until me.

I smirked. I had no regrets about being her first and last lover ever.

However, if I’d known sooner, I could have made the experience less savage.

Then again, Laya preferred things to be unguarded and without pretense. Her order, during that first time, telling me not to stop, had me shaking my head.

Laya knew what she wanted and had no qualms about asking for it.

The timid woman I first met was merely a mask, concealing the bold, fiery passion underneath.

Even this morning she held nothing back, riding my cock with complete abandonment, writhing as she rolled her hips until she drove me to the point of losing control and I tossed her onto her back and fucked her senseless.

Laya’s previous hesitation and lack of experience had disappeared.

Dammit.

I shifted, adjusting my dick as it grew uncomfortably down the leg of my pants.

I wondered if she would be waiting when I returned home—if that familiar, enticing eagerness would greet me, if her mouth would whisper my name in that breathless, teasing way. I could hardly wait to bend her over and sink myself into her again, to have her lips wrapped around my cock as I fucked her mouth.

I gritted my teeth.

Focus, asshole.It was time to meet with some dumbasses and knock their heads together, not get lost in fantasies.

The faster I put my brothers in their place, the sooner I could return to her.

I pulled up to a small restaurant in a corner of the quaint village outside Messolonghi.

In the distance, the lights from the boats docked at the nearby marina reflected and danced on the water. It was quiet and peaceful here, providing the necessary privacy for our talk.

I stepped from the car, striding down the brick path to the small restaurant my father’s old friend owned. The number of people still in my life who had known my father was comforting. I did my best to keep them close, frequent their businesses when I could, stay updated on their families, and maintain our friendships, no matter how distant.

It helped me feel connected to Papa, even after all this time since his death.

Georgio greeted me at the door, wearing a sharply pressed chef’s coat that gleamed. His long black hair was neatly tied back in a ponytail, and his light green eyes conveyed a welcoming presence. His sincere smile helped relieve some of the tension from my drive.