Page 21 of Honor and Claim (A New Reign #2)

Chapter Twenty-One

COSIMA

O h noes is my only thought when I step out of the bathroom and see Sal standing there. “Do you need to use it?” I ask, moving out of the way.

“I was actually trying to find you.” Sal gives me a smile that pulls up one side of his lips.

He’s not a bad-looking man. I’m sure many girls would swoon over this little smirk of his, but not me. Sal is too polished for me. His style is impeccable; it could rival mine, and therein lies part of the problem.

Sal has that pretty boy thing going on, and, well, boys have never been my thing. Then again, Z has only ever been my thing, but I know what is and isn’t attractive to me, and Sal isn’t it, even if he could easily grace the cover of a magazine.

I have no doubt he has graced many women's beds. Ladies talk, and I have heard his name come up more than once. While most women in the lifestyle wouldn’t care about such things, all of that is off-putting to me.

Sal rides the coattails of his dad, which is fine but isn’t respectable to me.

Even my Z, who spends a lot of time behind a computer screen, still has a roughness to his hands, a small scar that runs along his jaw.

A few marks on his body. He gets his hands dirty; he doesn’t send men in to do the work.

I don't think Sal could say the same. If you asked me, that is part of why his family has stayed at the level they are at.

They could never face off with the men in my family, so it's best to come for me.

I would be a quick way in. I know that's what Sal is truly after.

I'm sure it helps that I'm conventionally pretty.

I am also a bit of a rarity with my background, having blond hair, blue eyes and a softer complexion. It often makes me stand out in a room at a lot of these parties, except for the bigger ones when some of the men bring their mistresses instead of wives.

"Sal, I'm not searching for a husband." I’m upfront and honest, not wanting to drag this out or let Sal think he even stands a chance. It takes everything in me not to say that I already have one. That would surely end this.

"You haven't even given this a shot. Take a chance to get to know me." He steps closer, making me do the same but in the other direction. My back is almost to the wall now. "We make sense."

"I'm not going to marry a man because it makes sense."

"It's Z, isn't it? And not because he has taken over a pretend brotherly, overprotective role."

"Pretend?" I'm not touching the brother comment. I wonder if others will think the same because we'd grown up together, but I never saw Z the same way I see War and Ronan.

"He wants you. You surely know that."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Cosima, the dumb girl act doesn't play for me. I know you're far from it. Hell, you went to one of the most prestigious schools in the world. You know how to handle yourself."

Well then. I tilt my chin up, narrowing my eyes on him.

"Do you know how to handle yourself, Salvatore?"

“I do, but does Z?” What the hell does that mean? I won’t be asking him, that’s for damn sure. “Oh, you don’t want to touch that one? Maybe you should.”

“Sal—”

“I’m only trying to warn you, Cosima.”

“Right,” I laugh. “I think it might be best if you—” I don’t get a chance to finish my sentence before Sal's grabbed by the back of the neck and tossed down the hallway like a rag doll.

Z’s dark eyes lock with mine. His pupils are so big they almost consume all the color of his eyes.

“Don’t move,” he orders. I don’t recognize his voice.

“Z—” I try to stop him, but he’s quick, too quick.

He’s already pouncing on Sal, who has barely come back to his feet.

Z slams him into the wall, making a framed old family picture fall, crashing to the ground, shattering, glass spreading out everywhere.

“Z!” I shout again, hoping my voice will cut through.

He wraps his hand around Sal’s neck, leaning in close. I see his mouth moving, but I can’t hear what he is saying. Sal struggles to try and remove Z’s hands, but his efforts are pointless, his face turning from red to blue.

“Z, stop!” I plead, rushing towards them, but I don’t make it. An arm wraps around me from behind, yanking me back. Without a thought, I throw my elbow back, like I've been taught, bringing my heel down on their foot. I see War fly past me in almost a blur.

"Fuck," I hear my dad grunt, making it click who's grabbed me.

"Dad." I shift my elbows so he'll let me go, but he doesn't.

"No," he barks next to my ear. "You'll get hurt."

"He won't hurt me." I struggle to break my dad's hold as I watch Z and now two of the men that work here who are trying to get him off Sal. War has his hand around Z's wrist, trying to pull his hand off Sal's throat.

"Do something!" Tullio shouts to my father. Z is in a blind rage, unlike anything I have ever seen in my life. The man is watching the life drain out of his son.

I don't know why, but I do the only thing I can think of. I scream as loud as I can. To my shock, Z's head snaps toward me, making the scream die in my throat. He releases his hold on Sal, who crumbles to the floor, coughing.

"Let her go," he orders my dad.

Holy shit. He's lost his mind.

"Z," my dad warns.

"Let her go," he tells him again.

"I'm okay." I lift my hands, palms out. My dad actually drops his hold on me.

“Come here.” Now it’s me he’s bossing around. At least that’s partially normal. I, for once, do as I’m told, going to him. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.” He wasn’t close to hurting me, which is why Z’s reaction is on another level. It’s frightening. Not for me but for others. “I’m okay.”

“What did he do to her?” my father demands to know. I don’t know what the hell to say, so I say nothing. Again, not normal for me.

Z is ignoring everyone; his sole focus is on me. I might have lost it too because why am I finding this situation hot? It’s those kinds of thoughts that make me remember how much of a Marino I really am.

“This is insane. I come into your home, and this is how you treat us? I thought—” Tullio says, his face is almost as red a tomato.

“Hold your tongue,” War says, his tone chilling. “Or I’ll cut it out.”

“Well, that all escalated quickly.” I let out a laugh. “Men sometimes.” I roll my eyes dramatically. “Z, I love that picture.” I lean down and pick up the busted frame. “Mom and I are clearly the only photogenic people in this family.”

Tova lets out a giggle, quickly covering her mouth with her hand. I feel some of the tension start to drain.

“Cosima,” Z whispers my name gently.

“Take your son, Tullio,” War tells him.

“If he ever touches her again, he’ll be a dead man walking,” Z warns.

“We will get this all straightened out,” my dad adds, talking to Tullio, guiding him past us like Z didn’t just threaten to kill Sal. Smart—we don’t need Sal coming toward Z; they all should go in the other direction.

“I’ll see about smoothing a few things,” Mom adds, walking past too but pausing next to Z. “Breathe, honey, no one is going to hurt Cosima.” Z gives one small nod to Mom because she keeps walking, everyone else leaving the hallway too, but War, Tova, Z, and me.

"What happened?" War speaks once he's sure we're alone.

"He tried to corner her."

"Are you okay?" War asks me.

"Yeah, I'm good." Not sure I was cornered, but I’m not arguing that with Z. If that is how he sees it, then okay.

"Z, it's not smart to?—"

"I don't give a fuck." Z cuts my brother off.

"If you—" War starts again, but this time it's his wife that cuts in.

"Everyone needs to take a break. We're not talking about this tonight." I smile over at Tova, not only because she's doing what is needed but also because I love how she is stepping up and taking control.

"You heard the lady of the house. Her house, her rules," I'm quick to add, keeping my tone playful, trying to lessen the rage I can still feel pulsing off Z.

"Go, I'll get Mom and Dad to head back to their place in the city tonight."

"Thank you," I tell War. He's letting me know that my parents won't come knocking tonight, and for me to calm Z down before morning. "Come on." I slip my hand into Z's.

"I'll kill him if he comes near her again." Holy shit. Z isn't fucking around.

A darker side of Z came out tonight.

“I know,” War tells him. That calms him enough for me to be able to start to tug on Z’s hand so that he comes with me. I lead him up the stairs with the intent to go to his room, but when we reach the top, Z scoops me up into his arms, carrying me toward my bedroom.

“We’re going to my room?” I wrap my arms tight around his neck, linking my fingers together.

“Yes.” My eyes search his face as he carries me down the long hallway.

His expression is unreadable. As if there is nothing there, but his eyes say it all.

I don’t think I have ever seen Z this pissed off before.

That’s saying something since in the past I made it my goal to get a reaction from him.

Every step he takes is with intent. Z enters my room, kicking the door closed behind him before placing me onto the bed.

“Undress if you want to keep the dress,” he orders, going back toward the door. The clicking of the lock is loud in the room, a soft echo.

I'm too preoccupied observing him to follow his order. “Cosima,” Z warns, as if that will spark me into action. Z might have lost it downstairs and be worked up, but I’m not scared of him in the slightest. There isn’t anything in this world the man could do that would make me fear for myself.

I don't care what anyone says, including Z himself. There’s no way he would ever do anything to hurt me.

I mean, the man was beside himself when he found out what happened between us our first time together.

I let my heels fall off my feet as I scurry to my knees as Z makes his way back to the bed, undressing in the process. I had no idea how much I’d enjoy a strip show until this very moment. My eyes eat him up. I swear he looks like every inch of him was chiseled by hand.

“Z.” I lick my lips as I watch him come closer. He’s so damn hot, and he’s all mine. His fingers go to my hair, gripping a fistful and pulling my head all the way back to stare straight up at him. His breathing is heavy. I can see the rise and fall of his chest with every breath. “You?—”

His mouth crashes down onto mine, Z’s tongue thrusts into my mouth, greedily taking what he wants. The intensity of it all shifts the world around us, everything else fading away.

Heat blooms in my chest, then radiates throughout my body. The passion and love he has for me is unmatched by anything in the world. It’s weaved into him and everything he does. It's a love I don't think many get to experience, and I'll do anything to protect it, and I know Z will do the same.

I gasp for air when his mouth breaks from mine, but it doesn’t leave my body.

Z keeps kissing me down my jaw and then the column of my neck.

A whimper escapes me when he rakes his teeth along my skin before he latches on and sucks.

With each hard pull of suction on my neck, it pulses down to my clit.

“Z.” I moan, my body starting to ache with a primal need.

“Done with this,” he says before I feel a tug and then a snap. Z pulls back, revealing the necklace I had been wearing, now in the palm of his hand. He lifts it, letting the ring slip free. I hold my hand out, knowing what he wants.

He slips the simple gold band onto my finger.

We’d gotten it on the fly, and Z told me he had another for me when we returned home, but I adore this one.

I think in part because it’s not showy and over-the-top like most things I do.

It was a stolen moment we had together. It represents us.

That we don’t actually need anything else.

Only each other, and that is and always will be enough.

“It doesn’t leave your hand again.”

“Never,” I vow. Z still has my hair in a tight grip; it relaxes a fraction.

“Take the dress off, wife.” He releases his hold, stepping back. “I want to watch.”

I reach to the side of the dress, finding the hidden zipper. I tug it down, letting the dress drop, pooling down my knees, leaving me in only a pair of silky white panties.

I feel empowered by the way Z looks at me.

His eyes roam over me as though he can’t get enough.

There’s no doubt in my mind that he needs to be the one in control right now, but I want to give him something first. He always puts my pleasure before anything, and I want to return the favor but know it has to be his idea.

“Are you going to stare all day or do something with me?” I ask, knowing my smart mouth will most likely get the desired outcome. I lick my lips again, this time while staring directly at his cock that is now in his hand.

The man has gone down on me a million times, but I’ve never gotten to return the favor. He’d said before he worried about his control and was always greedy to sink his cock inside of my pussy.

“Watch it,” he says as he strokes himself a few times before stepping back toward the bed. Oh, I’m watching. “Open your mouth.” I part my lips as he guides the head of his cock to them. I make no protest, wanting to please him. “Good girl.”

Z pushes the head of his cock into my mouth, his hand going to the back of my neck, keeping me firmly in place. He thrusts forward, his cock gliding against my tongue. His strokes are slower at first but start to grow faster as I get used to taking more of him into my mouth.

"That's it," he praises. His other hand cups my breast as he jerks his hips back and forth. There is nothing I can do but take what he is giving me, and I gladly do. Loving that I am giving him pleasure in a different way.

I whimper around his cock when he gives my nipple a small tug. I try to close my legs, needing pressure on my throbbing clit, but Z stops moving mid-thrust.

"Did I say you could move?" I peer up at him through my lashes. "You stay still and let me take what I need." Holy crap. I moan around his cock. I don't know if he meant for his words to turn me on; likely, the man knows my body better than I do, but I swear it gives me a mini orgasm.

I stroke my tongue against his cock, letting him know I'll be a good girl, for now. Z thrusts forward, harder this time, his cock hitting the back of my throat. I relax, wanting to take as much of him as I can.

A groan rumbles from him, and I start to suck while stroking him with my tongue. A string of curses leaves him in Italian. He jerks his cock back, letting it slip from my lips before he pounces, pinning me onto the bed. That wild look is back in his eyes.

“Need you.”

“I know.” I grip his chin, making him stare into my eyes. “You with me?” He nods. “Good, because I need you too. Always.”

Z might have lost control, but that's more than okay because I'm starting to realize it's me who has it. I always have.