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“What the fuck is that for?”
With a smile that I hope scares the shit out of him, I say, “If you ever deny me release again, I’ll castrate you. Isthatunderstood?”
He nods, acceptingmyterms.
And I let go.
17
LUCA
“Where were you sleeping before?”
I look at Carina over my shoulder, startled by her question. She’s been staring at me while she eats the breakfast I made for us. But I don’t remain looking at her long, needing the distraction of getting ready for the day.
She’s still naked on the bed, just as I requested. It was meant to make her aware of my authority while she’s in my house. However, I’m the one left at a disadvantage. I have too much to do, and her in my bed makes me want to go back to it. To say fuck it all, and just fuckherall day.
But I already set myself back a day.
“Luca?”
“What.”
“Where did you sleep before?” she asks again.
“Nowhere,” I reply. “Anywhere.”
“Will you be sleeping here from now on? To keep me from touching myself, that is?”
I turn to see her fully. She blinks wide brown eyes at me, attempting to seem innocent. The minx.
Slowly, I round the bed. I lean over her, and she drops her head onto the pillow as if she’s afraid.
“You know the rule.” I slide my hand between her legs to touch the velvety softness of her pussy.
“But what if I want to come?”
Shaking my head, disgusted with her for manipulating my dick this way, and me for allowing it, I slide my fingers into her wetness. “If I can go a few hours with a hard-on, this sweet thing can wait too.”
She squirms beneath my touch. “Luca, I don’t know if I can.”
“You have to.” I bend down to kiss her full mouth, then trail my tongue to her pert nipple. “I’ll only be gone a few hours. Will you be wet for me when I return, Carina?”
“I have no choice. I’m always wet for you.”
“Good girl.”
* * *
Putting off my plan yesterday wasn’t entirely Carina’s fault.
The truth is that visiting dead relatives isn’t something I want to do. The last time I was at St. Joseph’s Cemetery was the day I buried Tony. I haven’t been able to bring myself to return since then.
“Stay here,” I tell Hansen after I park several yards from the Sinacore family plot.
He exits the black SUV and stands by the door, nodding to the other vehicle carrying two more of my men. “We’ve got you covered, boss.”
I leave them there and enter the area surrounded by a low gray cinder block wall. Here lie the remains of generations of families. And in the center is mine.
