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Taking the opportunity while I can, I inhale, pulling her scent into me and taking the only thing I can, when really, I want so much more. I want it all. I want her, but I know the demon deep inside can’t keep her. That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy her while I have her, while she’s tied to my last name.
“Don’t wake up, my little pet,” I tell her, my voice sounding more like an order and definitely more like me than before. “Dream of something better. You’re coming with me.”
Releasing her throat, I slide my palm between her back and the bed and grip her butt more firmly. Then I scoop her into my arms and pad my feet back out of the room and through the pool house. I don’t let go of her until I deposit her in the middle of my bed, beside Krishna. Neither of them stirs, but Ciera’s right arm moves out, feeling around on my side of the bed, and that’s when I see it—a tiny tattoo of a rainbow on her ribcage.
Knowing that Giovanni has also seen it, which is why he calls her Rainbow, sends saliva as hot as lava down my throat, burning my chest. How dare he know such an intimate detail about the woman I’m giving my last name to.
I’ve always been possessive. It started when the twins were born. It’s a fault I can recognize, and I war with it daily. The urge to gouge out dark blue eyes sits heavy on my conscience, taunting me to do it, to make it painful, and to make her watch. Then she’ll know not to repeat whatever fucking happened that allowed Giovanni to see any part of something that’s mine.
Reaching over her, I pull my laptop from between her and K and place it on my nightstand, no longer interested in the information I was seeking when all I can think about are the two beings in my bed.
Grasping the clasp of my pants, I undo them and slide the zipper down, and then shove them to the floor. After stepping out of the fabric, I crawl under the sheet and pull the fabric over all of us, leaving the comforter on the floor where it always ends up anyway. I should have dumped Ciera in Sienna’s bed or even Brooklyn’s. Neither are home, and either bed would have been a better option than mine.
When I heard her scream, I threw everything I’ve been taught out the window. I didn’t secure the main house or my family members that were inside. I grabbed my gun and raced toward her without so much as a glance in any other direction.
I cannot allow that to happen again. She is a distraction that will get someone I love hurt or killed if I’m careless like that again.
Glancing to my left, I take in all her smooth, creamy, vanilla skin, starting at her bare feet and continuing until her silk sleep shorts stop at the top of her thighs, only inches from her heat. Her silk-covered center has the inside of my mouth watering at the thought of what she tastes like. My dick jumps as if to confirm it wants in there too.
Why does the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on have to be a goddamn Fitzgerald?
This can’t happen.
Wecan’t happen.
I’ll marry her as the boss ordered, but at the end of the day, she’s still a tool, a sacrifice to destroy the enemy. She’s a pawn to be used. She’ll go down with them.
It’s the only way.
She’ll get me between her thighs. I want her too much to deny myself that slice of dessert, but that’s all I’ll give her. She doesn’t get all of me. She doesn’t get my mind, my heart, or my soul.
No one will.
Not Ciera.
Not Krishna.
No one.
CHAPTER 11
CIERA
“No one told me we had a kitty to play with.” At the sound ofthatvoice, glacier eyes spring to my mind before Krishna’s name is whispered through my slumbering thoughts.
“Stop eyeing my shit like you’re on death row and she’s your last meal.” Domenico’s soul-penetrating, almost black eyes flicker behind my closed eyelids. My body tingles as if he’d touched me with his rough hands even though I know he didn’t. That’s the effect his voice has on me every single time I hear it.
“For one taste of this,” Krishna says, his tone pulling at the cords of my resting state that wants to remain sated in peace and protection. “I may consider letting you send me to an early grave.”
Something tickles the top of my thigh, but it’s so feather-light that I must have imagined it in whatever dream I’ve conjured up this time.
“Fuuuck. She even purrs in her sleep.”
“You want a pet? Go find your own.” My eyes snap open at the harshness in Domenico’s tone. My gaze finds him standing several feet from the side of the bed. He’s dressed in black slacks and a matching belt, but he’s shirtless, showing off olive skin that has my mouth watering. He has a tattoo above his left pectoral muscle and another on the inside of his right bicep. I can’t make out either as my eyes descend, roaming lower and taking in every perfectly sculpted abdominal muscle. A trail of black hair starts below his navel and disappears behind the waistband of his pants. He has those prominent indentions making a V, the tip of it also vanishing from my line of sight, leaving my imagination to run wild while my heart rate accelerates.
“I recall saying I’d share youwithher.” A quick burst of humorless laughter echoes off the walls from beside me. My neck turns, my gaze meeting a cold, blue stare. He holds my eyes while speaking to Domenico. “She may take your last name, Caputo, but make no mistake, I’ll be inside both of you beforethatwedding night is over.” Krishna’s hot breath fans my face before he blinks, and then they’re on Domenico while his hand tightens around my thigh, squeezing his fingers in the same possessive manner Domenico seems to enjoy doing to my neck. “Deny me, and your dick will never fill the inside of this sweet, innocent little cunt you so desperately want more than you want your next breath. Unless, of course, you’re into necrophilia.”
The threat of my death has me sucking in a lungful of air and expanding my chest. Why that excites me rather than scares me, I can’t comprehend at the moment.
