Page 21 of Enemy of Ours #1
Tears keep trailing down my cheeks as I stare up at the ceiling, praying that I don’t get raped, but with how things are happening, I might be assaulted, no matter if it’s in a church.
That’s always common in the mob. You don’t touch the wives or daughters within the mafia, but your outside enemies like to send a message by defiling and violating the bodies of your loved ones.
Where is my dad? He’ll rescue me. I know he will.
The knife is suddenly pressed against the tender flesh of my stomach, right in the middle of the cross.
“Such beautiful skin.” The bishop smiles wickedly, my last bit of hope vanishing in an instant as I feel the blade press heavily until it pierces my skin.
“Please, God. No!” I cry out, thrashing as my eyes flutter open, and I’m met with shadows and the usual darkness.
I breathe out a shaky exhale, the same nightmare crashing over me so heavily that at first I don’t notice the sounds, smells, or touch around me.
“I got you. You're safe. No one can hurt you.” That deep, smooth Italian accent whispers over and over in my ear, penetrating my senses sharply, making me gasp out loud.
“What. The. Actual. Fuck!” I scream—literally scream—as I try to move, but I find my body snapping back into the cushioned seat, something holding me in place around the middle of my stomach so I can’t get up or move.
“Calm down before you end up hurting yourself,” Romeo calmly says in a deep voice, his breath ghosting over my panting, parted lips.
My body freezes at the closeness, my other senses coming to life as I focus on my surroundings.
I inhale deeply, smelling leather, something spicy like scotch, and cinnamon, a very formal smell that finally clicks.
Beneath those scents, I can also detect engine oil and the constant coolness of air from an AC.
It just has a smell you never forget. Under my feet, the floor vibrates, and everything sounds loud, like we are in an enclosed space.
“Are we on a fucking plane?” I ask in disbelief, my whole body suddenly unfreezing and starting to tremble as the shock wears off and rage takes its place.
“Now, now, kitten. Don’t do anything rash.
I’m going to untie you. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself after waking up.
We’ve been in the air for about six hours; we have just about four more hours until we land,” he explains in that sexy voice I hate; it always causes my stomach to erupt in butterflies, or it could be gas.
I’m going with the latter because I despise him, no matter how good he smells as he leans farther over me to untie the soft material of rope from around my middle. The second I’m free, I unclip my seat belt with shaking fingers and climb over his long legs, right into his lap.
He sits perfectly still after he turns on the overhead lighting, letting me see the outline of his face and shoulders. It gives me the opportunity to swing my hands back and start whaling on him; my palms connect with flesh, watching his face whip to the side, but I can’t stop.
“You fuckface! How dare you! You fucking kidnapped me? Are you crazy?! Turn this plane around right now!” I’m shrieking, I know I am, but I don’t give a crap.
I’m freaking out as things click into place for me.
“I’ll let you get away with that one hit, but the next one doesn’t go unpunished, Iris.” He growls, his arms suddenly wrapping around my waist and dragging me closer until my heaving breasts are against his hard, muscular chest.
“You were in the elevator, weren’t you? I recognize the cologne you wear; it didn’t stick with me at the moment, but it was you,” I accuse him, waiting to see if he’ll lie, but he surprises me.
“Yes. You weren’t ready for me, Pet. You’ve been living a life of denial.” He speaks the truth, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen to it.
I struggle in his grip, his arms tightening farther around me as he grunts when my shin connects with his ribs. One second, I’m straddling his lap, about to beat the shit out of his no doubt still pretty face, and the next, I’m hanging half upside down over his lap.
“What the—” I start as I try to get away from him, but his strong hand holds me down in the middle of my back, and his other hand comes down to smack me on the ass without warning.
I’m draped over his lap with my hair hanging in my face, my mouth open in shock. Did he just spank me?
“I’ve waited almost three years for you to come to terms with us, Iris, but I see I still have my work cut out for me.” He spanks me again, the wide palm of his hand making my right ass cheek burn through my thin nightgown, but the silk oddly feels cool against the burn.
I’m getting wet between my legs; I hope he doesn’t see or feel a wet spot dampening his pants. Another memory slips inside my mind as I try to sit up, but he just presses harder on my back until I go limp in frustration and exhaustion.
“How long, Romeo? Were you at my apartment the other night?” I ask in an incredulous tone, a blush staining my cheeks because it suddenly makes sense why I was so sore between my thighs.
“You thought you could come that hard with your own little fingers? I know what spot to touch inside you to make you squirt. Only me. You soaked both of us that night.” He sounds possessive, and damn my traitorous body for shifting in his lap to feel his hardening cock right over my clit.
“Damn you, Romeo. The last time I saw you was almost three years ago, and all of a sudden, you think you can just come into my life and break into my apartment?” I squirm as he runs his palm back and forth over the tender spot he smacked, but his hand freezes as I speak.
“Three years?” He has a curious tone in his voice, but for some reason, it sounds cocky too.
He grabs my hips and flips me upright, making me sit sideways in his lap while grabbing a fistful of hair at the nape of my head until he can control my movements. I stop struggling as I hear the possessive, wanting tone in that deep, smooth voice of his.
“Kitten, I’ve never left your side. Not once,” he states, causing my brows to furrow. I can see the outline of his sharp cheekbones under the overhead light.
I gasp, my mind racing as I remember over the years feeling like someone was always following me, his scent lingering in my apartment, and my missing underwear every time I woke up. I thought I was losing my mind.
“What have you done?” My voice shakes, fear and rage taking hold of me, but deep down, something else I’d rather not name.
He leans down and skims his nose along my neck as he tips my head farther back, his mouth pausing over my fluttering pulse with the softest brush of his lips before he pulls away.
“What I had to do. You think I’d leave you? You’ve been mine since the first time we met. I’ve always been right next to you, watching from my camera and holding you at night. Right where you belong, in my arms.”
He’s a fucking psycho.
Wait a damn second.
“Cameras?” I gulp, shock hitting me hard as I struggle out of his lap and back down the aisle, away from him.
“I had to make sure you were safe, Kitten, and I protect what’s mine.” He follows me step for step, making me realize I’m stuck and have nowhere to go where he won’t be.
“I-I can’t breathe,” I stutter out, gasping for air as my back hits a side of the plane wall, sinking to the floor as my head gets dizzy.
Is this real, or am I dreaming? I don’t understand what is happening.