Page 28 of Caruso (Vegas Mafia #3)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Giorgio

T aylor is asking for the impossible. She wants answers, but she won’t get any from me.

Nobody dances inside the ruin that once contained my heart. Not even her. It’s boarded up and derelict, and only the demons call it home now. Matteo will never speak of it. Tommaso will never think of it, and Taylor will always be left wondering why.

When I finish with her, I pull out, gazing down at the woman who has crawled inside our world and would be advised to get out while she still can. She is flushed, her breathing shallow and fast, her entire body shivering, red in places from my rough, brutal attention.

A ruined goddess, my queen and as I unbind her from the silk bonds around her wrists, she smiles softly.

“Thank you.”

“Any time, angel.” I wink as I offer her my hand.

“As enticing as it is to keep you tied up all night, we must eat. First, we clean up and then I’m taking you to a place I love where the food is out of this world.”

Her eyes light up with excitement.

“We’re going out?”

“Of course. Matteo is your man for fine intimate dining. I prefer the noise, crowds and company of the masses.”

I help her up, noting her grimace as she attempts to walk, and I hide my smile.

Good. I want her to ache knowing I’m the one who caused it.

My cum dripping from inside her long after she thought it had all been washed away.

I am an intense lover and an intense psychopath, and dining out with my woman is something I never believed would happen.

We shower together, my hands rough as they explore her body in a more leisurely way. Rubbing in the soap, ensuring I don’t leave a trace of blood or sweat, cum or depravity on her perfectly soft skin.

Taylor’s body could grace a centerfold, and if I had my way, I would handcuff her to my side, naked for all the world to admire her beauty. I would parade her around Vegas with pride that I have such a goddess as mine.

However, even I am not that deranged, and so I slap her ass and say roughly, “Go and change. Wear whatever the fuck you like, I’m wearing jeans.”

I wink as I head to my room to change, a self-satisfied smile on my face. I feel good. Way too good, and it’s all because I get off on mutilation, fighting and fucking like the degenerative beast that I am.

Taylor meets me in the living area, and I swear my mouth dries as I feast my eyes on a woman who has dressed like every fantasy I ever had.

She is wearing a short leather mini skirt with boots up to her thighs. That’s where the danger ends because she is wearing a soft, floaty top that disguises her curves, giving her the appearance of a respectable angel.

Her hair is dancing down her back; her makeup is natural and not extreme. She is wearing a delicate silver bracelet on her wrist and a pendant with a heart around her neck. She is two halves. One decadent, one almost virginal, and I love it.

Her smoky eyes drag against my body that I contained in a tight t-shirt with the words ACDC across my chest. My black leather jeans are held in place by a brown leather belt, our company insignia engraved on the silver buckle.

Unlike my brothers, I shun business suits and smart casual.

I love the darkness, and that is reflected in my wardrobe.

When I’m working with them, I wear the customary black tailored suit and black silk shirt.

However, when I’m out on my own, I blend in with the crowd, occupying the shadows, disguising the monster who walks among them.

“You look nice.”

Taylor smiles shyly, and something tugs inside me. It’s an alien sensation I wonder about and I brush it aside and nod. “You look good enough to eat, angel. ”

I wink and hold out my hand. “Come on, you must be starving.”

She winces as she edges toward me, and I disguise my smile. She is uncomfortable—good. I intended her to feel every mark of me inside and out for the entire night she is mine. I want her body to be ablaze with my rough attention. Bearing my mark, reminding her I exist.

We head out once again onto the street, and now Vegas is at its most vulgar. The neon lights illuminate the night sky, and music plays from every venue we pass. I hold her hand in mine possessively, glaring at anyone who dares cast an appreciative glance in her direction.

Taylor is a stunning woman, and that has been her downfall in the past, where men have sought to rip that from her, unknowing what warrior hides behind an angel’s face and body.

I love that about her, and as we walk, she says conversationally, “Where are we going?”

“There’s a place I enjoy just off the Strip. Not many visitors know it’s there, so it’s kind of exclusive.”

“In Vegas? How do they keep it secret?”

“You’ll see.” I laugh to myself as we turn the corner and head down a darker alley, leaving the lights behind as well as the noise. The only sounds now are our footsteps and the odd rustle from the dumpsters we pass.

Taylor shivers. “Is it far?”

“We’re there.” I stop in front of a beaten-up old door and enter a code in the panel, and as we push inside, Taylor gasps because the interior is nothing like the outside .

Inside is a marbled floor that stretches into the distance.

“This is a surprise.” Taylor chuckles beside me, and as I grip her hand, she whispers, “We should have dressed up.”

“We are good as we are.” I reassure her, and only when I push open the door at the end, does she accept that I’m right.

The place is loud, the music scratching against our eardrums, rendering speech impossible. There are many people dancing on a stage in the center of the room, most of them with half of their clothing hanging off their bodies as if torn away by a wild animal.

Taylor is astonished; her mouth drops as a topless waitress dressed as a showgirl passes and offers us a glass of champagne. I tear a fifty-dollar bill from my clip and stuff it into her leather pouch before handing a glass to Taylor.

“Fuck, Giorgio.” Her eyes are wide as she takes in the scene. All around us, people are making out, dancing, or cheering loudly as they watch with interest.

“What is this place?”

I say loudly in her ear. “It’s called Sodom and Gomorrah. It’s a member’s only club, and most of the people here are local or visit often.”

“Which explains the security code, I guess.”

Taylor peers around with interest as I point to another set of doors.

“The restaurant is through there.”

I pull Taylor along with me rapidly, so as not to engage, because she doesn’t know it yet, but anything goes in Sodom and Gomorrah.

It’s not unusual for men to target single women and vice versa if they like what they see.

The rules are to keep an open mind and to give everything a try.

Not tonight, though. Tonight we are here to eat because this place has the best view in Vegas and the best food, which is why I brought her here.

The noise cuts as we close the door, and she shakes her head as she grins.

“That was an education. I never knew it was here, and I’ve been living here for four years.”

“Why would you?” I shrug. “Sorry to say this, angel, but membership is five thousand dollars a year. I’m guessing you didn’t have the means.”

“No way?” Her eyes widen. “But it’s packed. How have these people got that amount of money to burn?”

“Don’t question their means, just their choices.” I shrug. “It serves its purpose if you fancy a night with no repercussions or questions. I prefer to come here for the food.”

“You’re a strange man, Giorgio.”

She squeezes my hand tightly. “I thought you’d be all over this because you like to test boundaries and limits. I can totally see you here.”

“I’ve done it all several times, but it doesn’t mean I want you to.”

“Why not?”

I surprise her by swinging her back hard against the wall and grip her face in my hand, hissing, “Because I may have to share you with my brothers, but that’s as far as it goes.

Inside that room anything goes, and if I tried to stop it, I would be in breach of the rules.

You are mine all the time it’s me gripping your hand and I’m liable to waste anyone who even contemplates approaching you, so in answer to your question, angel, you are best advised not to even look at another man, or woman, if you don’t want their brutal death on your conscience. ”

“Fuck!” Her low hiss causes me to relax my grip, and she smiles. “Why does that turn me on, Giorgio?”

I press against her and whisper, “Do you want me to fuck you against this wall for anyone passing to see?”

She bites down on her bottom lip and lust darkens her gaze as she whispers, “If it didn’t hurt like hell inside me right now, I would probably take you up on your offer.”

“There are other holes to fill, little lady.”

I savage her with my expression alone, and she moans. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

The door opens, and a couple spill out into the hallway. The woman, obviously more plastic than human flesh, clutches the hand of a man old enough to be her grandfather, whose eyes light up when they fall on Taylor.

“I don’t suppose–” He begins by saying and I hiss, “Beat it, granddad, before I shove your walking stick up your ass.”

The girl with him gasps as he turns bright red and makes to argue, but as I turn, he pales whiter than snow and says quickly, “Come on, Ariadne, let’s get this party started in the club. ”

They head off, and Taylor giggles. “That poor girl.”

“Poor girl?” I roll my eyes. “He is paying for her to be immortalized as Barbie, and even when she’s seventy years old, she’ll still look the same.

She’s on a trip and loving life right now, and if the price is sucking his withered old cock, she will do it all the time planning her next surgical procedure. ”

I return my attention to where we were heading.

“So, angel. How about you turn around, face the wall and I’ll lift this sexy skirt of yours and take you from behind?”

“Down, boy.” She claps her hand to my face and stares into my eyes. “I’m hungry, remember, and not for sex. I’ve had my fill of that for now, but later tonight, I like the sound of that.”

My eyes are blinded with lust, and as I release her, I nod toward the restaurant. “Then let’s eat.”