Page 27

C ontessa

Well, this is weird.

I’m standing in a circular room, furnished with two small, curved sofas and one long, low glass table. It looks luxurious and exclusive but… there’s no one here.

I sigh out a long breath. As much as I wanted to escape the day I’ve had, the thought of being with other people and making small talk, even with Paige, makes me so tired. I need time to process what happened earlier—the dancing, the completely out of character compliment I got from Antonio and the surreal moment I shared with Bernadi. And, of course, the rejection.

I walk into the room and look around. It feels as snug as it appears. Velvet drapes line every wall but it sounds as though the far wall isn’t a wall at all. I walk towards it and pull back one of the drapes. Immediately, the dance floor below appears. This room is on the first floor looking down on everyone in the club below. There isn’t a corner of the club that’s concealed from this balcony. It’s the perfect place to spy on every patron.

Something feels off. Do all clubs have a voyeuristic control tower like this one? I doubt it.

My skin prickles as though someone’s watching me and I let the curtain slowly fall, closing off the view. I turn around, about to walk over to one of the sofas when a figure in the center of the small room makes me freeze. I would scream but my breath is caught at the base of my throat.

The angle of the light makes it impossible to pick up facial features but I don’t need them to know who’s standing in front of me. His silhouette is, annoyingly, etched on my brain.

Benito Bernadi.

It doesn’t make any sense. He can’t be here because of the message I sent him. I sent it less than six minutes ago, and it surely couldn’t have been obvious from the photo where I am.

I can’t restrain the contempt in my tone. “What are you doing here?”

He steps forward and the lights illuminate his scowl, along with the moody cut of his jaw and too-beautiful hooded eyes. “I should be asking you the same thing.”

“I’m here with a friend. Not that it’s any of your business. ”

“Where you go and who you’re with is all of my business.”

Anger singes my skin. “Do you know what? I don’t want you anywhere near me, Bernadi. I don’t care what Cristiano says. I am not your responsibility and I don’t need to be chaperoned wherever I go.”

“I don’t care what you think.”

I force out a laugh. “If you don’t care, why are you here?”

“That photo you sent me… What did you expect would happen? You think I’m just gonna let that go?”

I jerk backward with a frown. “Let it go ?”

“Like it or not Contessa, I’m responsible for your safety. I cannot let you be somewhere—anywhere—dressed like this, without someone looking out for you.”

“But this isn’t next to nothing . I’m wearing actual clothes and quite a few of them too, as a matter of fact.”

“That dress is too…”

I’m so sick and tired of him telling me what to do, and the rejection still burns. I stamp my foot in frustration. “Too what? Too blue? Too pretty? Too flattering?”

He stares at me like he can’t find the words.

“Come on, Bernadi, what exactly is it? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

His jaw is clenched and I see his fingers flexing by his side.

“Come on,” I goad, spitefully. “What’s wrong with it?”

He explodes. “It’s too fucking hot , Contessa,” he shouts. “And no one gets to see you looking like that but me.”

I gasp and stagger backward. “What?”

“You heard me.”

My brain scrambles to make sense of his words. “But… this is just a game to you.”

He chuckles, darkly. Takes a step toward me. I take one back. “This is no game, Contessa.”

I wonder how far the drop is from the balcony to the dancefloor below because I’m certain the only safe way out from under his predatory stare is to jump.

“I’m tired of your behavior Contessa. You need to be taught a lesson.”

“What do you mean ‘my behavior’? What lesson? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You think? Where do I start? How about dressing like fucking catnip for every man in the city? How about wandering around a nightclub filled to the brim with firearms, on your own?”

I swallow.

“How about taking a photograph of yourself giving the bird dressed like that and sending it to me? And if all that wasn’t enough, you don’t even question why someone might want to see you in a VIP room, you just follow a stranger into an elevator? Contessa, you’re about to become a part of the Di Santo family and you are a fucking liability . You need to learn a few things, and fast.”

“So, you’re going to ‘punish’ me?” I hook my fingers into quote marks .

He steps right up to me, flooding my senses with the scent of his aftershave.

His face is like thunder but his caress on the side of my face is soft.

“Yes, brat.”

His neck bends, bringing his face down, closing in on me. Everything goes dark as if he personally controls the lighting in this room.

I grip my purse defensively but still feel an unbridled urge to confront him. “Tell me, how did you get here so quickly? I only sent that message ten minutes ago. You were here within five.”

“I was in the basement having a business meeting.”

I blink. My instincts were right, this place is riddled with mafia.

“And it’s my club.”

A shiver coasts across my shoulders. “You own a club?”

His mouth ticks up. “I own several. This one’s the best.”

“The other ones must be pretty poor.”

My sarcasm earns me a painful tug on my hair, and it’s only then I realize he’s grabbed a handful of it with one hand while now holding both my hands behind my back with his other. My purse has fallen to the floor.

“I was going to go easy on you, Castellano, but you just sealed your fate.”

I frown, not having a clue what he’s talking about and my head spinning from having him stand so close.

His face is still lowered over mine. It’s despairingly beautiful. Without thinking, I rise up to my tiptoes and press my lips to his. At first, he’s like stone—solid and unyielding. I breathe against his mouth, willing it to open. I want to taste the bitterness on the edge of his tongue.

It happens slowly. His lips part and the tip of his tongue ventures forward on a moan. He gently sucks my bottom lip between his teeth.

Then he bites it.

I yelp and try to pull back but he’s holding me so tightly I can’t move.

“What did I say about putting your mouth on me, Contessa?” I can hardly make out the words because he growls them, like an animal.

The room starts to spin as his words fly at me. I won’t ever stop, and that’s a promise .

A frightening sense of foreboding creeps beneath my skin and his gaze devours the terror in my face.

The room stills as if awaiting his next move.

“There’s one thing you need to know about me, brat,” he says, his voice deep and otherworldly. “I don’t break promises.”

His mouth slams down on me so hard I can’t breathe. The force bends me backward and only his firm grip of my hands keep me from collapsing. He plunders my mouth, swiping his tongue across my mine with relentless force. His pelvis grinds against me, shocking me to my core.

“I warned you,” he snarls, and suddenly he’s carrying me across the room, his mouth melded to mine. I’m lowered to something hard and cold and his body presses down on me so I can’t move. His kiss alone is punishing, giving me no room to breathe. He kisses me like he’s been starved of oxygen and I’m his last breath. It’s disorienting and the force of it is tearing me apart.

When he releases the pressure on my ribs and stands, I still can’t move and it takes my brain a few seconds to realize I’m trapped. Somehow, while kissing the absolute life out of me, he’s managed to tie my wrists and ankles to the legs of a long glass coffee table. No wonder he’s so lethal in his line of work—nothing and no one can get past him.

“What are you doing?” My voice trembles.

His gaze rolls slowly from my wild eyes, down my body to my strapped feet, and a smile dances across his mouth. Then just as quickly, his brow falls into shadow and the smile is wiped away with an inked knuckle.

“You need to learn a lesson, brat.”

I blink up at him, confused.

“I want you to feel the way I feel every single fucking day. How I’ve felt since I saw you at Gianni’s funeral.”

“What do you mean?” My voice trembles.

His chest concaves and he suddenly slams his fists into the table, bringing his face close to mine. “Fucking needy .”

My chest thumps with the echo of a frantically beating heart. He strokes an inked finger down my forehead, making my skin burn. “I need to know what’s going on in here. ”

He slides his finger down my throat to my collarbone and then between my breasts. “I need to know what you feel in here.”

His finger trails a line of fire down my stomach over the satin dress and rests on the spot between my thighs. “I need to taste this .”

I inhale sharply, but the sudden throbbing between my legs takes that breath away.

“You already did,” I whisper.

He glares at me, his bronze eyes now black. Then he grunts. “It wasn’t fucking enough.”

He straightens to his full, intimidating height, then walks around to my feet and bends at the knees.

I lift my head off the table so I can see him.

His gaze holds mine and his voice drops low. “Was it enough for you?”

My entire body heats and I give a small shake of my head.

“What would be enough?”

His question makes me shiver. I haven’t dared ask it of myself but now I’m confronted with it, the answer makes me feel weak and vulnerable. So I don’t reply.

He places his large hands either side of me on the coffee table and lifts himself a fraction. “Would my mouth on yours be enough?”

I hesitate. My answer should be yes. That should be enough. But I know with haunting clarity it isn’t. I shake my head slowly.

He straightens his legs and hovers over my thighs. “Would my mouth on your pussy be enough? ”

I squirm under his scrutiny, the need for friction becoming close to unbearable. I shake my head.

He moves higher up my body and grazes his nose along the channel between my breasts. It pushes the blue satin further up my thighs until the conditioned air is lapping at my underwear, sizzling against my hot skin.

“Would my mouth on your perfect tits be enough?”

My mouth falls open and a tainted moan escapes it.

I shake my head.

He walks his hands up the table until they’re either side of my breasts. He lowers himself, his biceps bulging through his shirt, until the hairs along his top lip are brushing the corner of my mouth. I’m so turned on I could cry.

“Do you want me inside you, Contessa?” he breathes heavily.

He nuzzles against my mouth then slowly lifts his head and looks hard into my eyes. “Would that be enough?”

I swallow.

“Take your time,” he says softly. He lowers his hips and rubs his stiffened cock over my clit. I push up into it, relieved for some friction. “I already know the answer but I want to hear it from your lips.”

I throw my head to one side. I don’t recognize myself. I hate this man. He’s the reason I gave my virginity away too soon. He humiliated me in his apartment. He sleeps with other women. He said he didn’t that one time, but I don’t believe him. Bernadi’s been toying with me. He thinks I’m his for crying out loud. My stomach drops with the weight of inevitability. There’s no getting away from it. I want this.

“Look at me Contessa.”

I do as he says, clawing my gaze back to his.

“Do you want to feel my thick cock inside you? Do you want me to fuck you, deep and slow, hard and fast, until you’re screaming for me to make you come?”

My breaths are coming out short and fast.

“Honey, your body is answering for you, but I still need to hear it from your mouth. Tell me brat, do you want me inside you?”

Oh God .

“Yes.”

He lifts his eyes to the ceiling, closes them and releases a triumphant sigh. A second stretches like a held breath, then his lips draw into a wicked smile. “Then you’re going to have to be patient like a good little girl.”

What? I glare at him, my eyes hollowed as desperately as his.

He stands and lifts the hem of my dress, pushing it up to my collarbone. The feathers tickle my nipples. He draws in long heavy breaths, and thoughtfully peruses my body. It only burns me up more, making me squirm.

He then straightens and walks to the bar. He returns with an ice bucket and places it on the floor beside me. He dips his hand into the bucket and lifts out a cube of ice. He holds it over me and tightens his fist around it. Liquid appears through the cracks in his fingers and a large drop of water collects at the base. I hold my breath when it drips onto my stomach, then gasp at the shock of freezing water rolling over my burning skin.

Bernadi smirks and holds his fist over my breasts. More drips make me jump and squirm even harder.

He opens his hand and places the ice cube on my chest. I stare it, panting.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, Contessa.” I’m surprised at the gentleness of his voice. “Do you trust me?”

I nod.

“Words, Contessa,” he says, as though he has all the time in the world.

Weirdly, I don’t need to think about my answer—I know what it is. What I don’t know is how to feel about it.

“Yes, I trust you.”

“Good girl.”

He lightens his hold on the ice and pulls it down between my breasts. The melting liquid runs down my sides making my teeth grit. My thighs are shaking and I feel so exposed.

He draws circles with the ice around the circumference of my breasts pulling a moan from my chest, then narrows the circle until it’s touching the dimpled edges of my nipples. I anchor my gaze on them and watch them sharpen under Bernadi’s touch. He’s commanding my body like a puppet master.

My lips grow taut and I dart my tongue out to lick them .

“Your body is begging for this,” he says with a dry throat.

My hips ache to push up toward him, demanding attention, but I manage to solicit a bit of self-respect from somewhere and keep them pressed into the table.

Too slowly, he strokes the ice down my stomach, letting the water pool in my belly button. He lowers his mouth to the small crevice, dips his warm tongue inside and sucks the water out. With a soft, “mm” he urges the ice further down, pushing my panties to one side, until it’s rested just inches from my clit.

“Breathe,” he whispers through a smile. I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath but a gush comes out then is sucked straight back in again when he draws a circle with the ice around my hardened clit.

I’ve never felt anything like it. Hot blood rushing to my core, swelling my flesh, priming it for arousal. Then sharp, cool ice nipping at the skin, sending spasms of shock along my nerves.

The ice is melting quickly against my opening. Bernadi just holds it there watching it turn to liquid against my pussy. When there’s nothing left between his fingers and my flesh, he leans down and sucks up the water with a soft lick of my pussy. A faint moan sails out of my mouth.

He looks up and inhales deeply, his shoulders rounded with tension. His face is taut with the expression of someone who’s waging an internal war.

Keeping his gaze on mine, he reaches into the bucket and pulls out another cube of ice. He brings that to my opening, the frigid temperature making me jump again. Then, without warning, he pushes it inside.

Icy tentacles spread out from my core to every inch of my skin and I start to hyperventilate. My body doesn’t know which way is up. It’s burning with anticipation and now freezing cold from the inside out.

Bernadi pushes a hand up to my neck. “Slow down,” he orders. “Slow your breathing.”

I do as he asks, anchoring my gaze on his.

“Good girl.”

He shifts to my feet and looks at his handiwork. I feel sopping wet, as though the cube is melting faster than a polar icecap in the blazing sun. “ Thirsty girl.” His praise makes my toes curl. Then he rocks forward on his knees and holds my thighs apart with his thick hands. He leans in and licks me from my back opening to my clit, sucking up the liquid as it spills out of me.

A delirious moan works its way from the base of my chest.

Again .

His tongue is perfection. I don’t need to ask as just one lick has him obsessed. He laps at me furiously, his fingers digging craters in my thighs. He suckles on my clit while squeezing fistfuls of my leg. It’s painful and delicious and in seconds I’m moaning like a wild animal.

He goes back to licking and uses his fingers to move the ice around inside me. It’s almost completely melted now and my panties are soaked through. I’m starting to lose sense of where I am and grind against his mouth, drawing a growl from his throat. Thankfully, he doesn’t let up. In fact, his efforts become more single-minded and he focuses them on my clit, licking and sucking me into a frenzy.

“Benito… I’m going to come.”

He hums his approval into my flesh and I buck up to him letting him feast even harder, then a white light explodes behind my eyes and my awareness narrows to the sensations between my legs and nothing more. I convulse madly as he finishes me off, not letting up even as I jerk sensitively under his mouth.

Finally, his licks soften and he looks up, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. We stare at each other, both of us short of breath. Then his gaze darkens again.

“On your knees.”

Through the haze of post-orgasm, I wonder how he can be so optimistic. Has he forgotten he’s tied me to the table?

I try to lift my arms and apart from the fact they feel heavy having been restrained, they do actually move—they’re no longer tethered. I sit up and watch him back up towards the curtain-covered balcony, his eyes following me the whole way. “On. Your. Knees.”

He can’t be serious. I glare at him, wondering if it’s appropriate or not to laugh, but he levels me with a dark look. “Contessa, if you want me to fuck you, you have to show me how much you want it. Now crawl .”

There are a million sharp retorts on the tip of my tongue but they won’t come out. Because even though the idea of crawling to a man makes my blood run cold and challenges my feminist ideologies, I want to do this. I want to please him. And, if the way he moves his dick is anything like the way he orchestrates his tongue, by God I want him to fuck me.

I drop to my knees and his Adam’s apple moves in a dry swallow. He strokes a hand down his tie then shoves both hands into his pockets. He leans back against the concealed balcony and watches me.

I pull my dress down over my bottom, timidly, then place my hands on the floor. When I look up, I can see a huge bulge in his pants which is all I need to see to drive me forward. I crawl slowly towards him. Though my legs and arms are shaking, every inch makes me feel bolder. About three feet from his shoes I give my hips a slight wiggle and hear a string of Italian curses leave his mouth on a long, tight breath. I love what this is doing to him. He deserves to feel as out of control as I do.

When my nose is touching his slacks I lift my head. He’s looking down at me with a wild, rabid look in his eye. I slowly rise up to my knees, then keeping my eyes on his, I lean in and lick his dry pants, right over his cock. It jumps beneath my tongue and I can’t help a smile light up my face.

“Get up.” His voice is strained.

I get to my feet and lift my lashes to look up at him.

“That was the single most sexy thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he says, softly. He draws one hand out of a pocket and pulls back the curtain overlooking the club. I suddenly flush, feeling completely exposed, then realize I’m not actually naked; I only feel naked.

He steps to one side. “Rest your arms on the edge.”

I do as he asks and lean over the balcony. The height means my ass is canted out, the hem of my dress barely skimming my hips. Ice water still drips down the insides of my thighs and my panties need to find a trash can somewhere.

Bernadi moves to stand behind me then rubs a palm over the small of my back, then he places his hands on each of my hips and positions me level with his cock. My breath hitches and my mouth dries out, anticipating what’s about to happen.

One of his hands leaves my hip and I hear the faint sound of a zipper being lowered amidst the chaotic blur of music and hundreds of voices fighting to be heard over the top of it. When the crown of his cock slides between my thighs, my head drops forward, hair falling across my face as my lungs empty. I look out across the club with heavy lids. Everything below waist height is hidden from the room below. No one would have any idea the owner of the club was pushing my panties to one side and guiding his cock between my legs.

Bernadi leans forward and rests his arms outside mine, his hard chest bearing down on my back. Our positions would look innocent enough to anyone who might care to look up. He slowly pumps his cock in and out of the gap between my thighs. When I pull my legs together tightly, he hisses in my ear.

“Let me in, honey. ”

I melt .

One of his hands leaves the edge of the balcony and he works it between my legs, coating his fingers in a combination of my arousal and the water from the ice. He rims my entrance, readying me, then guides the crown of his cock to my opening. “Do you want me to go easy on you, Contessa?”

I turn my head slightly and murmur, “No. I don’t want easy.”

In one smooth, controlling movement, Bernadi curls his hips upward and shoves himself deep inside me. I clamp a hand over my mouth because I don’t trust myself not to scream.

I’m not a virgin anymore but it’s been three years since the one time I slept with someone. Bernadi’s cock is thicker and longer than Federico’s. Three years ago was barely anything more than a heavy make-out session. Now, I feel like I’ve just been broken in.

Bernadi’s breaths pump in and out of my ear and a groan rolls through him into my bones. “Jesus, Contessa. You feel incredible. You’re so fucking tight.”

I can’t seem to process anything. Only the hard fact that Benito Bernadi is inside me . He’s inside me, and aside from feeling as though I’ve been torn, I’m on fire. My skin is sizzling with desire and my stomach is hot to the touch. I just want to close my eyes so I can focus on the feel of his thick length pushing against my soft walls, and nothing else.

I whimper into my hand and nod. I don’t want him to know I’m shocked to the core .

“Let’s just pause a minute,” he whispers. “Let you get used to me being inside you.”

His words melt my nerve endings. They’re dirty but beautiful. I don’t remember needing such a moment even when Fed took my virginity. It wasn’t like this—completely overwhelming.

Images flash before my eyes. A gap in a door, a man in black, a dark stare. A tall ask and a gift given. A different pair of eyes when I came undone.

I suck in a sharp breath and my eyes ping open. It wasn’t Federico I saw when I came during my first time; it was Bernadi. And since then, my shadows have grown fuller, my sanity less tethered.

This is why I’m dark.

This is why I’m wild.

It’s because of the man behind me. Inside me. All around me.

Stark realizations come hurtling toward me. I was running from who I was because I terrified myself. There’s never been a model in my life for how to make my wildness ‘work’—it has always been something to be feared. Bernadi was something to be feared.

But I don’t fear him. What I feel for him runs deeper than that.

“That’s it, my beautiful little brat. You’re relaxing so well, so soft.” His praise does things to me and I turn my head.

“I’m okay, Bernadi. You’re not going to hurt me.”

He drops his forehead to my shoulder. “Damn,” he whispers. Then he moves .

He’s slow at first, pinning my hips with his fingers. He buries his head into the crook of my neck, releasing muffled animal groans as he slides in and out of my soft entrance.

I tip my head back onto his shoulder and moan freely, knowing no one can hear but Bernadi. His cock is perfect and I grip it snugly, feeling every ridge moving through me. I find it hard in this moment to ever understand why I hated him so much.

I lift a hand and run it up his neck into his hair.

“Don’t—” he starts, but all that comes out of his mouth next is another moan when I shift my hips, taking him deeper.

I tug at his hair while his strokes become harder, firmer, faster. Neither of us care anymore what this might look like from below. I can’t see anything beyond this overwhelm.

“Oh shit,” he pants. “Condom.”

“No—” I grip him tightly. I don’t want to stop now. “It’s okay—I just had my period.”

He melts into me and keeps thrusting, even harder now. I’m bouncing against the balcony rail with each of his staggering thrusts.

“God, I’m right there Tess.”

I almost collapse at the sound of him using my abbreviated name. So, for the first time, I use his. “I am too, Benito,” I gasp.

He pauses for a second as though acknowledging that whether we like it later or not, by using each other’s first names in such an intimate way, we’ve crossed a line.

He lifts my right leg and rests it on a ledge then feeds his fingers through my folds. He tugs at my clit and I explode into a million little pieces. I’m vaguely aware that he’s growling into my ear, shoving his length to my very edge and emptying himself deep inside me.

When I come around I’m half hanging over the edge of the balcony with Benito’s weight across my back. I lift my heavy lids and see a couple of faces turned our way. Neither of them I recognize.

Benito pulls out, still hard, and his semen runs down my thighs. I’m too exhausted to move, so I don’t attempt to, even when he disappears and returns a few seconds later with a warm cloth. I hear him drop to his knees, then he wipes the cloth up and down my legs, paying extra attention to my sensitive opening.

He helps me step out of my panties and balls them up with the cloth. Both are tossed into a trash can behind the bar. I’m now naked beneath this napkin masquerading as a dress.

His thick hands grab the tops of my legs and turn me around until I’m facing him. I’m struck with emotion when I look into his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

I nod again. “I’m fine.”

“Do you think you’ll regret it?”

I step into him, pulling his head into my chest, then I whisper into his hair. “No.”