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She’s just had her first sexual experience, and it’s with an asshole who placed her hand on his dick, told her to lift her dress so he could stare at her panties, gape at her untouched little pussy. Then he blew his load and it’s over, thank you very much, now fuck off.
And you know what?
Good.
Let her think that.
Let her think I’m an asshole.
Because if she hates me, she’ll leave without a fuss.
Fuck, I really do love her, don’t I?
She’s right here for the taking, that pussy primed and plump, ready to be wrecked by my hungry cock. But instead I’m turning away, bottling up the beast of my desire, ending this tryst with a hasty petting session that’s not even an appetizer for the hunger raging in my core.
But this is the way it has to be. We go any further and I’m not stopping until I’m balls deep in Amelia, stretching her so wide Ralph Romero’s pencil dick will get lost in there, filling her so deep every other cock will feel like a toothpick for her.
Of course, once my dick claims Amelia I already know that no other man will be allowed to get within ten feet of her pussy.
Because that pussy will be mine.
And that means Ralph Romero will be a dead man walking, to hell with common sense and logic. There’s no reasoning with the monster inside me. It’s primitive, protean, primordial.
Pure masculine energy.
The craving of a caveman.
So I have to get the fuck away from her now.
Before my cock overcomes my common sense.
Before my balls take over my brain.
I put my sunglasses back on. Snatch Amelia’s hat from where it’s fallen on the ground between my legs. Hand it to her without looking in her direction even though I can feel her wounded glare burning a hole in the side of my head.
“You’re serious?” she manages to blurt out as she pulls her sundress down over her pretty white panties. She closes her legs and sits upright, fidgets with her sunglasses in her lap, doesn’t look up at me. “You really want me to leave? That was enough for you?” Now she looks up, and I see the insecurity in her pretty round face. “The reality doesn’t match the fantasy for you. I get it. I know I’m no beauty. Wasn’t born with the supermodel hourglass shape that turns men on. My butt’s too big for my height, and my thighs are—”
“Stop it!” I snarl, clamping my hand over her mouth. I can handle Amelia hatingme, but there is no way in hell I will let Amelia leave here hatingherself. “Are you insane, Amelia? Whoever or whatever has put that crap into your head is wrong, completely wrong. You are fuckingperfect, you understand? Hell, I just told you the filthy truth about how I’ve watched you for years, lusted for you in body and mind, soul and spirit. You’re the real deal, Princess. The complete package.” I chuckle dryly, cup her sweet chin and direct her gaze to where my black pants are shiny at the crotch from where she made me come like a geyser in about three minutes. “You know, a man’s cock is the ultimate instrument of truth. It’s out of the brain’s conscious control. All it knows is pussy, and when it finds a pussy it wants, it gets hard. Brutally simple, but it’s a compass needle that always points true north.” My gaze softens when I see a flicker of that girlish thrill light up Amelia’s pretty eyes again, that same delight I saw when she understood how badly I crave her, how deeply I want her, how wildly I . . . I love her. “I love you, Amelia,” I blurt out without thinking. Fuck, I swore to keep my feelings locked up, to not say crazy shit like this which makes it clear I’m delusional. Only delusional psychos fixate on women they barely know and think it’s love. But the words keep coming, driven by a desperate need to make sure this sweet precious creature understands that real men don’t get hard for airbrushed photographs of professional models—they get hard for women like her, glowing with gorgeousness, bursting with beauty, shiny like the sun, magnificent like the moon. “I fucking love you, all right? There. I said it. I’ve said it to myself a thousand times, and I know it’s ridiculous. But it’s also real. I know I love you because it’s why I have to walk away even though I never want to walk away, have to let you go even though it’s ripping me to shreds inside, have to live knowing a man who doesn’t deserve you will get you because of the way our world works. The wayyourworld works.”
“You . . . you love me?” Amelia stares, mouth half open, eyes wide and unblinking. “Oh, Zedd, what if I . . . what if I love you too?”
I gulp back a choking breath as my heart tries to leap out through my throat. My cock is stirring again. The beast will come to life soon enough, claim what it’s craved for years. Leave now, you asshole.
“You don’t love me,” I say with a false confidence that almost wrecks me. “What you’re feeling is infatuation, curiosity, the lure of something dark and dangerous that’s so far from your planned and perfect world that it feels exciting. But you don’t love me, Amelia.” A dry chuckle escapes my tightly drawn lips as I fight to keep her away, to keep myself at bay. “Besides, as I’m sure your father has explained, love isn’t part of the arranged marriage equation in your mafia world. A mafia marriage is about alliances and contracts, politics and power. You were born into that world, and that’s your fate, Princess. It’s your world.”
She’s staring with that wide-eyed mix of confusion and chaos, the flash of desperate urgency all over her peaked face. “Can’t I . . . can’t I leave my world and enter yours, Zedd?”
My throat closes. It’s hard to breathe. My cock stiffens, drawing precious blood from my brain to my balls. The beast of possession growls inside. The animal of obsession raises its violent head.
Kill them all, hisses the animal in me. Her father, her fiancé, anyone who stands in the way. You know she’s yours, so take her. You can do it, Zedd. Bring her into your world. Just like she asked. Just like she wants. Run with her. Hide her. Protect her. She’s yours, so what are you waiting for?
“My world is built for one, not two.” Not sure how I’m managing to stay the course instead of breaking like I want,takinglike I want. “It sounds exciting to a sheltered little princess like you, but it’s lonely and desolate, Amelia. We’d be running our entire lives. I’d die to protect you, but I can’t protect you from an army of mafia soldiers forever. Besides, you’d be torn apart knowing you ruined your family’s reputation. And now that your arranged marriage has been fixed, disappearing with me would be an insult to the Romero Family.” I shake my head as reality thankfully sinks into both of us. Her face falls, her eyes dim, her fingers curl. But she’s smart enough to know I’m right. “Ralph Romero is a vindictive sonofabitch. He’ll respond to that insult with violence. Maybe even start a war.” I force myself to stand. “A war would wipe out the Volini Family. The Romeros outnumber and outgun your father three to one.”
Amelia looks up at me, the pain of reality hardening her sweet young face. But there’s also the fierceness of a mafia princess, a streak of independence, a flash of rebellion. “I’ll do my duty and marry Ralph Romero,” she says softly, her eyes fixed on me, her gaze holding me in place even though I need to be gone, should already be gone. “But I don’t want him to be my first. I want you to be my first, Zedd.”
My world almost shatters as my cock rises to full mast. Fists clenched against my sides, I manage to smile tightly and shake my head. “I already am your first in my mind, Amelia. Make me your first in your mind too, Princess. Just close your eyes and I’ll be there.”
She shakes her head stubbornly. “It’s my body, and I get to choose who I give it to. Besides, this isn’t the Middle Ages. Just because a woman doesn’t bleed on her wedding night doesn’t automatically mean she’s not a virgin.” Her eyes widen. “In Italy we rode horses every day. I’ll tell Ralph that my hymen broke on a rough ride when I was thirteen.” She blinks those heavy lids, blushes beneath her tan. “Itwillbe a rough ride, won’t it, Zedd? Just the way I imagined? Just the wayyouimagined?”
