Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
But beneath my fury, another desire coils making it difficult to concentrate. The image of Aemelia kneeling for Luca, her lips wrapped around him, her body pliant, the way he stroked her hair while issuing commands like she was nothing but a toy—it rattled something inside me. She didn’t flinch when we walked in. She didn’t shrink in shame or try to pull away. She remained there, devoted and obedient.
She was a virgin when she came to us, hesitant and unsure, unaware of the depths of pleasure she was capable of feeling. And now? Now she offers herself without hesitation, comfortable in submission, willing to let Luca guide her into his dark proclivities. The thought alone is enough to make my hands tighten into fists.
I’ve never been a man to share what’s mine, but Aemelia—she doesn’t belong to just one of us. She’s under our protection. She’s in our care. She’s become something none of us want to let go of. I cannot begrudge Luca a taste of the girl who’s burrowed her way under our skin, unraveling us one by one.
“Call us when you have the meat,” Alexis says into the burner phone, voice clipped, taking no risks. His words are casual, but we both know Enzo the butcher will soon be reduced to the very thing he’s built his trade upon. Tonight, he will know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of a blade. But before that, we’ll make Aemelia understand exactly what it means to be claimed by her father’s enemies.
Alexis leans against the wall, arms crossed, eyes flicking toward the door to Aemelia’s room. “You good with this?” he asks, though the heat in his gaze tells me he already knows the answer. . We’ve shared women before, but never anything serious. Never like this. And never with Luca.
“I don’t know what he’s going to expect,” I admit, rolling my shoulders, trying to loosen the tension coiled within me.
“I guess we just wait and see.”
Without hesitation, he strides to the door, as impatient for more of Aemelia as I am. My blood pumps faster, anticipation thrumming through me like a war drum. I follow, stepping inside to find her curled on Luca’s lap, eyes closed, his fingers threading through her hair in slow, rhythmic strokes. She looks at peace, completely undone in a way that makes my breath catch. She’s wearing the delicate nightgown she had on earlier, the thin fabric hugging her curves, leaving nothing to the imagination.
I wonder if she finished him, if he finished her, or have they been waiting for us?
“Close the door,” Luca says in his standard firm tone.
When the door clicks shut, I twist the inside lock, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. All our lives, we’ve known violence and power; its familiarity is easy to navigate, but this is something different: trust and surrender. My body craves Aemelia, but my heart is stronger, yearning for her gentle caresses, her sweet kisses, desperate to keep her safe.
“Our sweet girl wants to please us, don’t you, Aemelia?” Luca murmurs, his fingers trailing along her jaw, tilting her face up to him.
She blinks, eyes heavy with lust, lips swollen, her breathing slow and measured. When she finally meets my gaze, there’s no fear, no hesitation. Only something deeper.
“I do,” she whispers, and my stomach tightens at her confession.
Alexis smirks, prowling closer, his gaze sweeping over her like he’s already imagining all the ways he’s going to make her fall apart for him.
“Such a good girl,” Luca praises, his hand gliding down her back, soothing and possessive. “Now, go to Antonio and show him how much you missed him.”
She rises from his lap slowly, her movements languid, fluid as if she’s floating. The girl who came here was coiled tight, vicious with resentment, burning with hatred. This Aemelia is soft and relaxed, ready for anything, and willing to please. When she stands, her clingy nightdress slides over her thighs and dips low between her breasts, teasing me. My heart pounds as she stops inches from me, the heat of her body radiating into mine. My fingers twitch, the possessiveness inside me roaring to life.
I tilt her chin up, forcing her to hold my gaze, breathing her in, her scent of roses and vanilla making my head spin. “Are you sure, Aemelia?” My voice is rough, but I need to ask. I need her to give herself willingly to understand what this means.
She exhales shakily, nodding once, then again, her delicate hands splaying against my chest, her touch searing through the fabric of my shirt.
“Yes,” she breathes. “I’m sure.”
My restraint snaps.
I claim her mouth in a bruising kiss, pouring every ounce of my hunger, my longing, into her, swallowing her soft moans and tasting her surrender. I lift her easily, gripping her thighs as I carry her toward the bed, ready to show her how much I want her to be mine.