Page 21
Blood Oaths and Pathetic Excuses.
M y stomach is in my mouth as I run barefoot toward the one place I have avoided since getting here. I stop by the shed, my heartbeat frantic as I search for something, anything that’ll help me alleviate the way I’m feeling right now. Spotting a shovel leaning up against some gardening tools, I grab it with two hands, the heavy steel making it hard to hold with one.
What did you expect, coming back home?
You knew things would end up this way. You thought about it.
I silence the voice in my head and haul the shovel over my shoulder. I have something I need to do before anything else. It’s long overdue and with the way I’m feeling right now, it’s very much a necessity.
The hired maids work to get the yard cleaned up, empty glass bottles littered all over the lawn, and I scowl as I walk past them.
I’ve never hated someone as much as I hate Dante at this very moment, and it’s that hatred that keeps me fuelled. Not caring who might stop me, I head up the edge of the cliff, the dark stones of my father’s mausoleum now withered from the salt of the sea. It’s big enough to house our entire family, and I know this is why he built it. So even in death, he wouldn’t be alone.
Selfish prick.
I pull on the gate, the large chain and lock rattling against it. I could have asked Dante for the key, but I couldn’t look at him for another second. Taking a deep breath, I swing the shovel where the chain meets the lock.
Again.
And again.
Puffing, I drop the shovel to the floor and scream, shaking the gate as the chains remain in place.
“How could you!?” I sob. “I trusted you, Papà !” Wiping the tears with the back of my hand, I take another breath and pick up the shovel, ramming the sharp edge into the chain and it breaks, the padlock falling to the ground.
Discarding the shovel, I enter and take the descending steps one at a time. The dank smell gets stronger as the door creaks open, revealing my father’s concrete tomb in the middle.
My lip wobbles, the adrenaline now well and truly gone, replaced by fatigue and exhaustion catching up to me from the night. “I miss you so much, Papà ,” I whisper, running the pads of my fingertips over the carving on his tomb.
Dante Della Torre.
Niente è più importante della famiglia.
Nothing is more important than family.
“I don’t think I can do this.” I sniff when heavy sounds of footsteps descend the stairs until I’m staring at Rafael, anger and frustration clear as day on his face.
“Tell me why you’re upset.”
“Leave, Rafael. I don’t ever want to see you again.” It hurts to speak the words because I hate that he kept this from me.
“What did Dante tell you?” he asks like he doesn’t already know.
“Don’t do that!” I smack my hand on the tomb. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know everything that’s been going on since the moment we got here. Hell, since you came to the States.”
“I—”
“Don’t act like you two don’t live in each other’s pockets!” I face him as he storms over to me, gripping my chin so hard, my lips part.
“Listen to me very fucking carefully.” He doesn’t give me the chance to speak as he tightens his grip, his fingers pressing into my jaw. “I don’t know what Dante told you, and if I was privy to any sort of information that would hurt you, I would never keep it from you.” His eyes sweep over me, and I grip his untucked dress shirt.
“Now tell me what you’re so upset about.” He releases my jaw, and I swallow, unsure if I should say anything.
Sighing, I meet his gaze. “The revelry wasn’t just for Frances.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dante knew what he was doing by bringing me back home. He had a plan.”
I watch as the puzzle pieces fall into place in his head, the slow realisation creeping onto his face.
“No. He wouldn’t.”
“He did.”
“Nera…” He’s lost for words, as am I.
His eyes darken, his hand coming between us to wrap around my throat. “You will never belong to anyone but me.”
“Don’t, Raf.” He doesn’t listen to me. His tongue darts out, licking the skin beneath my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
I moan, lifting my leg to wrap around him. “It’s not worth your life to pursue this. Frances will kill you.”
“He can have my body,” he says in a breathy voice as he sucks down hard on my neck, the pulsing growing stronger between my legs. “But my heart belongs to you.”
“We shouldn’t do this again,” I pant as he turns me around, forcing my head onto the cold stone of my father’s tomb.
“Keep telling me to stop, Principessa .” He hikes my dress up over my hips and tears my panties off, discarding them on the ground. He runs his hands over the roundness of my ass, like he’s savouring the moment until one of them lands down hard on my skin.
I yelp, watching the door in fear that someone might see us like this. He grabs my face and turns me around to take my lips with his, stealing the air right out of my lungs as his tongue dances with mine.
I can’t breathe as he consumes me, all of me until I don’t know right from wrong anymore. Until I can’t see the line in the sand, the grey now morphing into pitch black. His bruising grip on my thighs makes me moan as he lifts me atop the tomb.
“Open your legs,” he demands, and I spread them wide open.
He removes his dress shirt. The hard ridges of his muscles are perfectly sprinkled with dark hair, his buff chest moving up and down as he devours me with his eyes.
“Tell me you’re mine.”
I purse my lips, not wanting to hear myself say the words because once I do, we pass the point of no return. Guiding my hand to my inner thigh, I slip a finger between my lips, my pussy now wet for him, giving him the answer he’s searching for without having to say the words. Slipping my fingers inside, he palms his cock, watching me, making me hungry for his length inside me.
“No. Because it’ll never be true.”
He lunges at me, his hand now fisting my hair and yanking it back, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Say it,” he repeats, but I refuse to do what he wants. “No?”
With his hand still gripping my hair, he unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants, pulling out his cock. He snaps my head up, aligning himself with my pussy. “Then watch, Principessa , watch me take you for myself.”
He makes sure I’m watching as he eases the tip in, my flesh stretching around him as he goes deeper.
“That’s it…” he coos. “Are you watching the way you open for me? The way your pussy eats my cock?” He jerks my head. “Now say it before I lose my fucking mind.”
I smile and he rams into me, my gasp audible inside the near-empty mausoleum.
“Make me,” I whisper and the fury he’s been holding onto finally comes out in waves. He slides out of me and forces me down, my knees hitting the ground with a thud as he shoves his cock inside my mouth.
“I think you want to be taught a lesson.”
He thrusts into my throat, hitting the back, and I gag. Without a second to catch my breath, he does it again, pinching my nose as he wedges me between him and the tomb, his cock pushing further down my throat.
“You’re going to learn that there’s no one else on this shit pile of a planet that will feel for you like I do.”
My lungs burn as they beg for air and I push his thighs, but they’ve become immovable objects. Digging my nails into them, I gag again when he pulls out completely, the room now filled with my heavy breathing.
“Oh, you think we’re done?” He smirks, grabbing his belt from the floor and buckling it around my neck. Once fastened, the leather cinches my skin as he yanks it up, forcing his cock down my throat again. My eyes tear up from the lack of oxygen.
He runs his hand over my face, smearing my makeup as he thrusts into the back of my throat, the saliva dripping down my chin and onto his boots.
“How do you taste, Principessa? ”
He doesn’t give me a moment to catch up as he wrenches himself from my mouth and rubs his cock over my face. Tears pool in my eyes as I realise how aroused I am, and I clench my jaw shut.
“Open,” he demands, and I shake my head.
Smiling, he repeats himself and I open my mouth as he leans over me. His saliva dangles off his tongue and slowly drops into my mouth.
Twisted. Sick and fucking depraved.
I moan, grinding my hips into the air, wishing it was his cock.
He loosens his hold on the belt. “Get on your hands and lick the remnants of your pathetic excuses off my boots.”
My heart jump-starts at his degrading request, but I do it anyway. The leather of his boot is smooth on my tongue as I gather the saliva in my mouth, my pussy now throbbing with need. I want him to take me, to make me his. In this moment, that’s the truth.
I am his.
Licking from the toe of his boot to the top, I make my way up his leg, until I’m staring up at him, his large cock filling most of my vision.
“Say it,” he demands again.
I open my mouth to speak, to tell him there could be no one but him, but instead, my voice is taken away by the thought of my life being promised to someone else. That promise was made by my father right before he passed, setting the burden of Falcon’s Keep onto his children. There was never a possibility of Rafael and I ever sharing a life together. Now, my family has made sure of it by promising me to Frances.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21 (Reading here)
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44