AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Why lie to myself?
Better him than Drago, of course, because I’ve wanted Ricardo from the first moment he stepped into my father’s office. But to have him fuck me, here, in front of these men…My gorge rises, and heat spreads.
“Do your dirties, then.” Drago settles himself on the couch and pours himself another glass of scotch. “I won’t stop you.”
“And if I refuse?” Ricardo asks.
I shiver at the dark threat in his tone.
“What is there to refuse? It’s either you or me.” Drago settles back with a laugh. “I’m giving you the chance, here, to save her from me. You’d say no?”
There is nothing left to say. Ricardo stills in front of me, larger than life, looking positively sick to his stomach. The expression disappears as I watch, however, until he stands in front of me with his chin jutted out slightly.
“Don’t lose your nerve now,” I say. The rock is lodged in my throat; it hasn’t shrunk, yet my voice comes out steady and firm. “Whatever it takes, right? You said it yourself.”
A pistol clicks, but neither one of us looks away from the other.
Drago has his own gun palmed and aimed at the back Ricardo purposely gives him.
Then he stills. “Eyes on me, Isabella.” As though he thinks I’m going to go hysterical, that my body has never once begged for his touch. As though this is some kind of horrible betrayal, and once the line is crossed, there will be no going back.
There might not, for me at least.
For a long breath, it is only the warmth of his body as he steps into me, the control in every overly tense muscle. I glance up, up, staring at him. Waiting for him to do something. To kiss me or, worse. To apologize. To tell me he can’t do it and to let Drago take his place.
Hopefully, he sees the truth. This isn’t his fault. None of it is his fault. And he’d been willing to shoot himself for me.
I don’t expect him to grab the front of my dress and haul me to the tips of my toes, slanting his mouth to mine with his eyes open. He keeps his eyes open at the first press of his lips to mine, even when mine flutter closed. Heat seeps in through the contact, and although a brief chuckle sounds from just outside of my periphery, the world narrows.
I thought it might the first time he actually kissed me. I thought things might get a little crazy, but I never expected an audience. I feel their attention on my skin as Ricardo skims his fingers along my arm.
He drags the fabric of my dress down with such force it practically tears, and my breasts are bare for the room. I gasp at the press of cold air against my heated skin, and my nipples automatically peak.
Someone makes a low growl of approval, and my eyes jerk open.
“Me,” Ricardo whispers under his breath. “You focus on me, Isabella. No one else matters.”
Him. There's always been him, only him. But the others in the room are there even when he wants to pretend otherwise, and they watch our every move intently.
“This is taking too long,” Drago warns. “Proceed, Mr. Assante, or else I will be forced to step in.”
Ricardo stops and holds up a finger in warning. “Fucking touch her?—”
He breaks off, but there is something so animalistic in the way he talks, even I take a step back, as far as his hold on my dress will allow.
Ricardo turns back to me, and there is no question on his face. “Get on the floor,” he tells me. On your back.”
I try to glance around at the others, but he grabs me by the hair and yanks my attention back to him. “Only me,” he reminds me.
Only him. I try to keep it in mind and drop my gaze to the floor as I bend, knees first. The rug is warm underneath me, the fire doing the trick to keep the room pleasant and comfortable. The others have taken their seats. I’m aware of that much as I shift to my side and finally stretch out on my back. Frozen and paralyzed until Ricardo stands over me. His soldiers block out the light from the overhead chandelier. He dips his gaze to the area between my tits and lower before he crouches over me.
Trust me.
He mouths the words before he reaches for the gun Drago gave him for their game of Russian roulette. Whatever it takes. I’d agreed to the terms, and I’d bolstered myself up before we even came here. Whatever it takes, because there is Ricardo with the gun in hand, using the muzzle to drag my dress even lower down my body. The fabric snares at my waist, and he uses his free hand to drag it lower.
Until I’m lying there in my thong with goose bumps erupting across my exposed skin.
“Beautiful,” someone mutters. “Absolutely beautiful.”
