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“Viviana,” he rasped, his voice sounding strained. Before I could answer, he fused his mouth to mine.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and didn’t even offer the slightest bit of protest when he pinned my back against the tiled wall of the pool. Seconds later, more than just his tongue plunged inside of me and I arched closer to him. He drove into me like a man possessed, and I savored every moment of it.

Nazario bit at my tongue and lips and when he finally pulled away to suckle on my neck, I remembered his father. “Stefano?” I asked in a whisper.

He stopped and I almost thought that I had angered him at first. He tipped my chin up so that I was forced to look up at him. Our eyes met and the heat in his gaze nearly singed me. “He didn’t see us.”

I let out the breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, then tried to pull him back to me. If Stefano hadn’t caught us, then why did he stop and why wouldn’t he continue? “Fuck me,” I pleaded, needing to take everything that had been promised to me and more.

“We can’t do this.” His words made my head fly back as if I had been struck.

“But I...”

“He intends to marry you.”

I shook my head vehemently at that. “Never,” I spat out. I didn’t even care if it was in revulsion or disgust. It was an honest reaction, and I realized that was what was so different between father and son. With one, I had to fake an attraction... fake my orgasms... meanwhile with the other, it was all genuine. “I won’t do it.”

There seemed to be a slight note of sympathy in his gaze, but I didn’t want that. What I needed was for Nazario to fuck me enough to make me forget the world I was in, and why. If anyone could stop time and give me an ounce of pleasure that wasn’t forced, coerced, or rehearsed, then it would be him.

“You must, so I have to let you begin planning the festivities until I can find the right moment to take him out myself.”

“I’m going to do it,” I told him, grabbing his face and holding it between my palms. “I deserve this, and you will stand back and let me or else...”

He smirked, and it was the dangerous kind that still managed to turn me on. This very man could easily push me back under the water and hold me there until I took my last breath, but he wouldn’t because he liked me, too. I could sense it in the way he looked at me, and looked over me. Most of all, I knew it because he couldn’t keep his hands off of me any more than I could keep mine off of him.

“You will do nothing of the sort or else I’ll tell him what you’ve been planning, and death will be something you beg for, instead of something you fear, Viviana. You wouldn’t get out when I told you to, and now you’ll pay for it.”

“Fine, I’ll stay, but I’ll never marry him.” I was resolute in that.

“And, that’s why we can’t do this anymore.”

With those words, he pushed me away and turned his back on me. “I don’t understand.” God, how I wished that I did.

“And, you never will,” was all he said as he stood still in the pool.

Tears continued to streak down my cheeks. What have I gone and gotten myself into? This felt like a goodbye, and I had missed everything before it. I didn’t love Nazario. I didn’t even like him. I just wanted him more than my next breath. Almost forgetting to take it, I let out a small cough, then gathered what was left of my dignity and started toward the other end of the pool.

Halfway there, I turned. “I hate you, Nazario Vaccaro. Maybe while I’m fucking your father later tonight, I will convince him to take you out. After he does, I can end him and erase the memories of both of you forever from my head.”

I then held my head high as I continued toward the steps. I barely made it to them before he grabbed me from behind. He was inside of me within seconds, and with one hand in front of my mouth, the other wrapped around my throat. He powered into me with long, forceful strokes. Each one was more punishing than the one before it. The intensity of what could only be described as a “hate fuck” nearly did me in. Nazario showed no mercy. He kept fucking me harder and faster until all I could do was come over and over again. Each orgasm wrung from me felt hollow, but they still flowed like the water sloshing around us. By the time he finally pulled out, my arms and legs gave out and I fell onto my knees.

Nazario took one look at me, then walked around me before exiting the pool. No more words were said, but there didn’t need to be. He had given me what I so badly wanted, and proved to me that I might think I could forget about him, but I never would. If he hadn’t been imprinted inside my head already, he would be now.

I waited until he grabbed his things and left before hurrying out of the pool myself. My legs were like jelly, but I had to pull myself together because Stefano was home and there was no telling what he would want to do to me. I physically ached inside from Nazario’s rough fucking, and I had to prepare myself for at least the possibility of having to endure another, this time from someone whose dick I wanted to cut off and not suck dry.

Chapter Seven

NAZARIO

I had tossed and turned all night, unable to get what I’d done with Viviana out of my head. I’d allowed her to bait me into giving her exactly what she wanted, and now I would be the one to pay the price for it. I’d like to say that she wasn’t worth it, but I’d be lying. I was truly and impossibly obsessed with this woman, and one I knew would take me out if ever given the chance. Her warning about me and my father rang in my head, but I was not worried about her. I’d let her win last night not because I was afraid, but because I needed to truly fuck her out of my system so I could focus on family business. Once I assassinated Stefano, I would have to act swiftly to claim control of the organization. I needed to make sure every soldier underneath me would understand that I was the one in charge now.

She was like a fucking drug in my bloodstream, and one I couldn’t easily work out with time. Back when I could’ve had her in any way that I now wanted her, I would’ve broken her. Now, she was trying her damnedest to break me. Back then, she was meek and quiet, but not in the cunning sort of way. She was a bookworm and introverted. Now, she was a voyeur and vixen, a siren whose call I couldn’t even lie and say that I was completely immune to. Viviana still possessed a sense of quiet about her, but it was because she was plotting, and I knew on who and why. She was also so fucking beautiful and seductive that my dick stayed hard just thinking about her. In fact, I had stroked myself to a few more orgasms throughout the night as I thought about her.

“We can’t do this,” I’d told her moments before succumbing to her verbal jabs. Psychological fucking warfare was what it was. “Cazzo,” I cursed as I sat upright in bed.

I ran my hands through my curly hair, and scowled. I kept saying that I was the one in control, but I had done little to back those assertions up. I would need to leave to clear my head, and once I returned, I would need to play the role of the dutiful son as my father planned his wedding to the woman I nearly fucked unconscious the night before right under his nose.

I got up and after a quick shower, I threw on some jeans and a t-shirt, before grabbing my motorcycle helmet and keys. I had a sleet of vehicles at my disposal, but when I wanted to be alone with nothing more than my thoughts to haunt me, I would choose one of my bikes. I walked over to my Ninja H2R from Kawasaki, and saw my reflection as I looked down onto the silver paint. My expression was equal parts annoyance and frustration, and I knew both would be expelled, courtesy of a ride down the Italian countryside.

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