“Because of what your father did to my parents?”
“That’s a part of it.”
She squints her eyes at me in deep thought, trying to unravel the mess I have just spewed in front of her. “Care to elaborate on the other part?”
“Not right now, with my cock in your hand. I’d rather play first, talk later,” I say with a grin. Just as the words leave my lips, she lets go of my length, leaving me with a painful, longing ache.
“You’re not responsible for me. I don’t know what you think you owe me, or whatever sick fucking scheme you have concocted in that fucked up head of yours, but I can take care of myself. I’ve accepted that my parents are dead. I don’t need either of our lives to end in jail because of your vendettas.” She lets out a frustrated grunt before turning to storm out.
Not so fast,mi reina.
I run and grab her arm. She winces at how strong my hands are grasping her. There is desperation in my grip, but I can’t let her go. What if she tells Vanessa what I did before I can talk to Alex to deflect the situation? I can’t risk that. I have risked everything for her. I can’t risk her running now. Not when we are so close to what I have dreamed of for entirely too long.
“Let go of me now, Carmine!” she shouts.
“No, Sienna, I can’t.”
“You can’t or you don’t want to?”
“Both.” I grit my teeth.
“You’re fucking crazy.”
“No crazier than you.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Tell me you don’t feel it,” I press.
“Feel what? Your freakishly large hands, probably leaving bruises on my skin?”
I grip just a bit tighter, my calluses scratching her soft skin. “Don’t act like you didn’t love what these hands did to you the other night. And don’t act like you don’t appreciate what these hands have done for you,” I say, looking at the corpse I have yet to deal with.
“You are crazy. Let go of me,” she says, as tears begin to form in her angry eyes.
It’s ironic how her mouth shouts in anger to let her go, but her skin magnetizes to my touch. She pushes, I pull. We are stuck,marked.
“If wanting to undo the wrongs that have been done to you, while pleasing you makes me crazy, then yes, I am fucking crazy. Certifiably insane.”
She begins to cry.
I continue, “But you cannot, for one second, tell me that even in this blood-filled, fucked-up warehouse, you don’t feel it.”
“Feel fucking what, Carmine?” she shouts, with tears streaming down her perfect face.
I let go of her, and instead of running, she turns toward me with clenched fists pounding at my chest. There is relief in her anger. There is release in her tears.
“Do you feel it, Sienna? Less broken?” I interrupt her rage and take hold of both her hands as she collapses on my chest.
“Yes,” she admits.
“Like the scars you wear on your heart, all the open wounds that needed healing, can finally be stitched back together?”
“What is your fucking point?” she says in my chest through muffled tears.
“I knew from the moment I learned what my father did to your parents, and ultimately did to you, that I would forever be marked to you.”
“Marked?” she lifts her head, confused.
