Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
We're the fucking three musketeers. One for all. All headed straight to hell.
If I'm damned, I intend to claim Callandria before I take my place in hell. I want her desperate for me. I want her choking on my cock, pleading for it, willing to do anything for one more taste of it. I'm going to own her, body and soul.
Please, Luca, please. Give it to me.
I work my fist up and down my shaft, grunting as I imagine her spread out below me, her amber eyes liquid pools of desire, her body drenched in sweat. She arches and writhes, my name breaking from her plump lips as she pleads for me to fuck her harder.
I want it. Please, Luca. Harder.
"Fuck," I snarl, grasping for the shower wall as my balls draw up and cum shoots up my shaft. My legs threaten to buckle as my seed splashes against the shower floor before being swept down the drain. I suck air into my lungs, working out every last ounce of pleasure before I release my cock and slump against the wall.
How long has it been since I got myself off?
Merda. I can't even remember. Too goddamn long, I know that much.
"Fuck," I mutter, dragging myself beneath the hot water to clean up.
Callandria was only half right about those rumors. There was a time I frequented sex clubs. Ten years ago, I thought I could find what I was looking for inside, so I'd go and watch all manner of kink play out in front of me. I never found what I was looking for within. I never participated. Eventually, I stopped going altogether. There wasn't a fucking point when I always left more restless and dissatisfied than when I arrived.
If I'm going to die, it won't be with my pants around my ankles during some quick fuck in a club. And the possibility of having a knife slipped between my ribs by some chick paid off by one of our enemies wasn't a risk worth taking. Trust is hard to come by in this world. These motherfuckers will hug you with one hand and plunge the knife into your back with the other.
Tommaso Genovese certainly did.
"The shady, honorless motherfucker," I growl to myself, scrubbing shampoo into my hair as if that'll wash out the last month of my life. Genovese deserved death for everything he's done to our family. He had his own people killed to pin their deaths on us. He put a rat in Rafe's home, tried to force Rafe's regina to spy on him by holding her life over her head, and then kidnapped her when she refused to do his dirty work for him.
The old bastard's death presents a problem, though. If Emilio decides to seek revenge, he may very well drag everyone into an all-out war. The streets will run red with the blood of La Cosa Nostra. No one can afford that. The Valentino family may be strong, but none of us have the numbers we once did. A war will break us.
I don't just want the curvy principessa in my bed. I need her in my bed. It's the only way to stop what's coming and keep us all from ruin. I just need to convince Callandria that she wants what I'm offering. By the time she realizes I'll never let her go…well, we'll cross that hurdle when we come to it.
Despite what she thinks, I'm not a monster. I won't take her against her will. Her body is her own. But I never said I wouldn't blackmail her into seeing things my way. If her father thinks she's sharing my bed, whatever plans he had for her go up in smoke. Any alliance he thought to forge by dangling her as bait will disappear. He'll be furious. But not even their strongest allies would dare come between a Valentino and his regina, not after tonight.
Her own grandfather sealed her fate the minute he made a play for Rafe's queen. I don't have to force her to fuck me. I just have to wait her out. I'll keep her here as long as I have to keep her to convince her to give herself to me. She may think she can resist me, but she's wrong.
My phone rings, vibrating across the countertop. I dip my head under the water to rinse the soap out of it, turn the water off, and step from the shower to grab a towel. Steam swirls around me, fogging up the bathroom.
"Merda," I mutter under my breath when Rafe's name flashes across the display. Whatever he has to say, I'm almost positive I don't want to hear it, but I swipe to answer anyway.
"You have Callandria Genovese chained to your bed?" he growls. "What the fuck are you and Mattia thinking?"