Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Kneel, Dandelion,” Bastian says, lowering me down as he does.
I can’t not obey because my legs have turned to mush, and I can’t stand on my own.
He crouches behind me, Amadeo before me.
“You’re very pretty when you come,” Amadeo says. He presses his fingers to my lips smearing the crimson lipstick with a glossy sheen of my own come. “Very pretty.”
They stand, and from my place, I see they, too, are aroused. I remain where I am as Bastian moves to stand beside his brother, and they both look down at me, towering over me, and there’s that reflection again. Me with my breasts exposed, my face flushed, mascara smeared along my temple as I kneel before them.
They wait until I turn my gaze up to theirs, and a lone tear slides down one cheek because what have I just allowed to happen? How could I come for them? How could I have taken pleasure from their touch?
“Now thank us, Dandelion,” Bastian says. “Thank us for making you come.”
“I hate you,” I tell them, wiping that tear and the ones that follow.
“You hate us because you came. Because you liked it,” Bastian says.
“I didn’t.”
Amadeo brings his fingers to his nose as if that were evidence to the contrary, and I guess it is.
“Thank us all the same,” Amadeo says. “And we can all go home. I don’t know about you, but it’s been a long night.”
“Fuck you,” I tell him.
They glance at each other, smiling. Amadeo walks behind me, and I’m about to stand when Bastian tsks and puts his hand on his belt.
“Stay,” he says.
I do.
Amadeo gathers up my hair and twists it high on my head. I know what’s coming, and I brace myself, but it still hurts when he tugs.
Bastian crouches down, leaning so close that our noses touch.
“Thank. Us.”
I hear the warning. The “or else.” He doesn’t have to say the words.
Someone tries to open the bathroom door just then, rattling the doorknob and then knocking. “Is someone in there?” a woman asks.
“Be right out,” Bastian calls, never looking away from me. He grins. “I could let her in…” He straightens and stretches an arm to the lock.
“Thank you! Thank you, you fucking assholes!”
“That’s better. Not perfect, but we’ll work on it,” Bastian says.
“She’ll be a slow study,” Amadeo says as Bastian gathers the two sides that make up the top of my dress and ties them at the nape of my neck. They then help me up, surprisingly gentle as they do it. Bastian stands with a hand at my elbow, and Amadeo turns me to face the mirror, arranging my hair and wiping away the smudge of mascara before he meets my eyes. “We’re going to enjoy you, Dandelion. And you’re going to enjoy us and hate yourself every single time you come for us.”
14
Bastian
Vittoria sits in the back while I drive the SUV, Amadeo in the passenger seat. She’s strapped into the middle seat, and every time her eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, she quickly narrows hers to slits and glares at me. She won’t look away. She’s even flipped me off once. I’m glad for all of it. She’ll take some time to learn, and we will enjoy teaching her.
“How was the talk with Sonny?” I ask Amadeo. He met with our uncle prior to the dinner. Personally, I’m on Bruno’s side. I think we should off the fucker and set the family straight. I doubt anyone else would stand against us once that example is made.
“As expected. He denied any contact with Lucien Russo. Had no idea how the papers got the story but of course offered his assistance with the authorities since they’re in his pocket.”
“I’m telling you, brother. We need to get rid of him. He won’t stop until we’re out and he’s in.”
“You know we can’t do that.”
He means Mom. Sonny is her brother, and of all people, she has clung to her relationship with him. We didn’t know she’d reached out to him after what happened with Hannah. Not that it mattered much then since it was already too late. But he’s been clever, keeping in touch with her even when Grandfather wouldn’t have anything to do with her. Sending money when Dad went on his binges.
“I know.” I slow the SUV as we near the entrance of the Naples house. The gates begin to open, the lights of the house warm in the distance. “Ready, Dandelion?” I ask, taunting her.
“I want to go to bed,” she said, speaking to Amadeo.
“We can accommodate that,” I offer.
I hand the keys off to one of the men, and Amadeo opens her door. I hear her protest, but a moment later, the three of us enter the house with the girl between us. Amadeo has hold of her.
His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he hands Vittoria to me as he checks the message. He types something back, then tucks it away. “Drink?”