When She Unravels (The Fallen, #1)

by Gabrielle Sands

“The moment I saw you, I thought you were the most infuriatingly beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on,”

“One look was enough for me to know I’d lose my mind over you if I wasn’t careful. I tried to be. I

manufactured reasons for why I should stay away from you, but I can’t seem to ...

“If I see someone else’s hands on you, I’ll break them. If you come to the party, the only person who’ll touch you will be me.”

“Damiano,” he says. “But don’t you dare say it back to me. If I hear my name just once on your lips, I know I’ll become addicted.”

He said if I said his name, he’d become addicted, but I’m already hooked after one hit.

But then I realize something. Damiano told me not to go, but he’s going. And according to Jessa, he’s not going there to just hang out. Is he going to try to screw me out of his system tonight?

No, that’s not how this is going to work. Damiano said he didn’t need a distraction, but that’s his own problem. I’m going to do what I want.

“Do you want to get fucked, Ale?”

“I’m not here for you.”

“I think that wet pussy of yours wants to get fucked hard tonight,” he whispers. “I think it wants to get ruined by a big cock.”

“You’re wrong,” I breathe.

“Why don’t you let me check?”

A moan fights its way out of my throat. “Damiano…” He shuts his eyes. A tremor runs up the thick column of his throat. Just then, I remember what he told me about calling him by his name. “You always remember your first hit,” he mutters.

This man wants me. If I hadn’t run, I would have lived my entire life without experiencing this once.

She’s already mine.

“I have this fantasy where I bend you over my desk, fill you with my

cum, and make you spend the rest of the day with me dripping down your thighs.”

“I know what this one means.” “What?”

I lean forward and place my elbows on the desk. “It means I want to make you mine.”

“Did you think that after Friday, all you’d need to do is crook your finger at me, and I’ll come running?”

“I’m more interested in crooking my finger inside of you,”

“Maybe you don’t know this, but there’s a special spot there that...

“Are you trying to buy me?” I was about to tell her she can quit her job and I’d pay for all her things, but her outrage makes me backtrack on that idea.

“You said you didn’t need a distraction.” “I changed my mind.”

“You know I don’t do serious.” “What is it then?” “I want to keep her around for a little while,” I say. “She intrigues me.”

I jerk the ice pick out and sink it through the top of Nelo’s hand that’s resting on his knee.

“Astrid stabbed him?”

“No. I did.” Something that might be pride flickers in his expression,

“I was violent,” I mutter, folding away everything else I was about to tell him. “And I didn’t even feel bad about it in the moment. What kind of a person does that make me?”

“You acted on instinct. You wanted to protect Astrid. That makes you a good friend.”

What you did feels violent, but it wasn’t. By its nature, violence is peak selfishness. What you did wasn’t that. You acted with the goal of defending a friend.”

“He’s never going to hurt you.”

“You won’t let him.”

“I’m going to make you mine, Ale. And I always protect what’s mine.”

“Make me feel alive again.”

Damiano peers down at my naked form. “Fuck,” he rasps. “This body was made for me.”

“I’ve never tasted a better pussy,” he says hoarsely.

“Enough.” He jerks my hand out of his pants, pins it above my head, and kisses my throat. “I’m going to come inside of you,” he says against my skin.

“This pussy was made for me too,” he growls from behind as he keeps thrusting into me. “And this pretty little ass.” His thumb brushes against the other hole. “Mine.”

“It’s all yours.”

“You will never put yourself in danger again,” he murmurs into my ear. “No one hurts what’s mine, not even you.”

“I don’t think she wanted to hurt me. I don’t think she and her husband got along.”

“Was everything you told me a lie?” “Not everything,” I say. “You’re a married woman. Why did you lie to me about being inexperienced in bed?” My throat tightens. “I- I didn’t lie about that.”

“Your husband didn’t fuck you?” “He did his marital duty on our wedding night, that’s all. Like I said, it wasn’t a love match.”

“Why did you decide to get involved with me?” I exhale. “Be...

“Valentina Conte.” That last name doesn’t ring any bells. “Married to Lazaro Conte. Lit up like a Christmas tree when we ran him through the databases.”

“The head enforcer of the Garzolo clan of New York. They’re one of five families originally from Sicily. She and Lazaro got married a few months ago. Valentina shot him a few days after their two-month wedding anniversary.”

I feel a perverse satisfaction at that. “Ouch.”

“Stefano Garzolo. The head of the clan. She’s his daughter.”