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I head toward the driver’s seat, but something tugging on my lapel stops me from moving. Scowling, I look down and see Rory’s small fist bunching my blazer. My gaze moves back up to her face.
Her eyes land on the church. “Confessing is great and all, but uh… I thought that, while we’re here…perhaps I could atone for my sins again.” “Perhaps you could. How do you plan on doing that?” She matches my indifference. “With a little help from you.” Jesus Christ and all his fucking Disciples. My eyes damn near roll back in my head at her confidence. It’s the hottest trait I’ve ever seen in a woman, especially when it’s so unexpected.
What I need to do is remind her that’s crossing the line. You know, the one I reinforced yesterday with warning signs and barbed wire. But I’m only a man, for fuck’s sake.
I bite my tongue, staying still and silent, like my heart isn’t slamming against my rib cage, and I’m not fighting an animal instinct to grip her by the nape of her neck and wipe that smirk off her face.
My eyes flick between the key in her hand and the matte black bodywork of my Aston Martin. For some reason, they are just mere inches from each other. My gaze darkens. “You’d be out of your damn mind.” She bites her lip and looks up at me, expectantly. “This is a sin, though, right?” she whispers. “One that’d earn me a spanking?”
“Okay.” She pauses. “I won’t key your car, and you can spank me anyway. How about that?” “I don’t negotiate with terrorists.” “Well then. Oops,” she says again. Only this time, her chirp is accompanied by a scraping sound. Heat rises to my brain and down the length of my dick, making the blood in both of my heads boil. Fuck, she’s annoying. Fuck, she’s hot.
“Make me ask again, Aurora. I dare you.” Before she can reply, I grab her by the wrist, pull her back to the hood of my car and slam her face-down on the bonnet. With an animalistic growl brewing inside my rib cage, I pin her legs against the bumper with my thighs and hook my thumbs into her waistband.
“You want to act like an animal, you’ll be gagged like one.”
My head is messed up in more ways than one. Because ever since I found out he killed his own father with those hands, I find myself wondering even more what they’d feel like against my body.
I’m sick and twisted to be so turned on by the idea of being caught. “Good girl,” Angelo purrs, suddenly pinning me to the hood with the weight of his body. “You took that one well.”
Behind me, Angelo chuckles darkly, then moves to stroking the top of my head instead of fisting it. When his voice grazes the back of my neck, it’s softer than before. “Fuck, Aurora. I love it when you scream for me. It makes me want to spread that perfect pussy and shove my cock inside you and give you something to really scream about.”
“I’m the only one you want spanking you, aren’t I?” “Yes!” “The only one you want to fuck you.” He punctuates his sharp words with another spank against my clit, and this time, my legs threaten to give way. “Yes, yes!” I moan, pressing my palms hard into the hood, as if it’ll relieve any of the tension building between my legs. But I know the only way I’ll find relief is if Angelo keeps doing that right there. “And when your husband fucks you on your wedding night, all you’ll be thinking about is me.” Another hard, stinging slap. “Wishing it was my cock stretching your tight pussy open.”
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“Bad girls don’t get to come, Rory,” he says in a tone that borders on malice. “I’m begging you.” “I can’t hear you.” “Please, Angelo. Please, I’m begging you to let me come.” He groans, “Fuck, baby.”
“We’re going to hell, Angelo.”
I feel something soft falling around my shoulders. I glance down and realize he’s slipped his jacket around me. His hands run down my shoulders to my forearms and linger there, warm, strong and comforting. For a brief moment, I close my eyes and lean my back against his chest, basking in the feeling.
“I’m already in it.”
Despite it being November and pissing down with rain, my brother is shirtless and sweaty, looking like a damn Chippendale calendar.
“Good thing all my clothes are dry-clean only.” He rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the door frame. “Of course they are, princess,” he grunts as he strides back down the hall.
Last week, Gabe just turned up and said he’ll come help with renovating the house like I’d asked him to. He’s been here every day since, busying himself with renovations and removals, and in the process, removing every last trace of our bastard father from our childhood home.
But this is the most I’ve seen of him in years, the happiest I’ve seen him too, so I’m sure as shit not going to ruin it.
A car door slams. We both look up to see Aurora getting out the passenger door. “—babysitting his sugar baby.”
What the fuck is she doing in that tiny skirt? It barely covers her ass. Both possessiveness and lust brew under my skin, and I have to clench my jaw to keep my expression unbothered.
“I’m dropping her off at a dress fitting.” “Why, what grand event are the Cove Clan planning now?” He flashes me an odd look. “Her wedding dress, you fucking idiot.” The lump in my throat thickens.
“So why does she think otherwise?” “Because your father is a cunty pervert who can’t get girls within the age bracket he likes without lying and blackmailing.”
“You gonna tell her?” “No, because then he’ll kill her.”
“You got a death wish?” I growl, striding over. “Get down. Now.”
Christ, Alberto must be insane for letting her leave the house in that.
When her grin only gets bigger, I push myself up onto the wing and grip her around the thighs. She gasps as I hitch her over my shoulder like a fireman, my thumb grazing over her panty line as I clamber back down to the ground.
Because all I fucking think about is claiming those lips, even when they spout geeky shit about birds I couldn’t care less about.
I lean back on the railing and drag an eye over those legs again. “After you.” She’s too excited to notice my leer, bounding up the stairs and letting me almost see the color of her ass.
“Is this the G700 or the G800?” I cock a brow. “G800. How do you know so much about planes?” She hitches a shoulder. “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.” “I don’t think you’re stupid at all,” I murmur back, before I can stop myself.
As my breathing labors, I bite back the urge to ask for the names of everyone she’s ever fucked. I’ll add them to the list of boys I need to kill before I leave the Coast.
My gaze drops to the hemline of her skirt, which is now riding up her ass to reveal the purple and red lash marks on the curve of her cheeks. Christ. She’s still super raw. She really took that like a champ. I nearly lost my mind when she begged me to spank her clit too, and I’m fucking desperate to see how swollen her pussy is after that.
“No, it’s a souvenir.” “Of what?” she whispers thickly. “Of the time I almost fucked the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”
“And is this because I keyed your car?” “Nope.” Yes. “Just making sure I don’t cross that line.” We glare at each other.
Rory’s mouth gapes open at Tor’s comment, but I just smirk. He’s such an ass.
Something catches the corner of my eye. It’s pink and lacy, slung over the center stick. It takes me a few seconds to realize what it is. Underneath, there’s a note scribbled on the flight log in loopy, girly handwriting. To add to your collection.
I inhale deeply, filling my soul with the scent of a girl that will never be mine.
Each time my hand grazes over my skin, or I sit down with too much force, a shock wave of pleasure ripples through my lower stomach.
The wedding feels like the end. I’m hurling toward it, getting closer and closer and now, my true colors are showing. I’m Rory Carter and I do bad things. I like doing bad things.
And Angelo knew. He knew that I was marrying his disgusting uncle to stop him building on the land, and yet, he sat back and did nothing. My eyes sting; for some reason, Angelo’s betrayal cuts deeper.
“And if you try anything stupid, I’ll kill you and your father anyway. And that,” he adds, with a grin, “is about the only promise I’ll keep.”
He punched me in the face. Oh my god. He punched me. My head spins, my lip gushing hot and red as my blood dribbles down my cheek. My ears are ringing so loudly, I barely hear the door creek open.
“Sorry I’m late,” Tor drawls, sauntering over to take his seat next to Dante. “I didn’t get held up, I just didn’t want to come.”
“He should have been my underboss. And if he’d stuck around, that’s exactly what I’d have offered him.” “I’m nobody’s underboss,” Angelo cuts in. His voice is so calm that it instantly chills the room.
His gaze rests heavy on my cheek, but he doesn’t say another word.
Without warning, Alberto’s heavy hand clamps down on my thigh, making me jolt. On the other side of me, Angelo stills, then releases a sharp hiss.
With a sarcastic smirk, Tor raises his glass. “To Aurora,” he murmurs quietly. “The only chick stupid enough to marry a gross, old, drunkard to save a few acres of land.”
“Hurry up with the main course,” he bellows in the direction of the kitchen. “I want to go and fuck my soon-to-be wife!”
I close my eyes, bracing myself for the onslaught of humiliation. “Go to bed, Alberto.” The menacing tone in Angelo’s voice makes me pop a lid. “What was that, kiddo?” “Angelo, don’t—” But he’s already rising to his feet, my tiny protest falling on deaf ears.
