Page 69 of Trapped
“A house fire. My aunt and uncle never stood a chance. Luca, who was ten at the time, didn’t either. The entire family was wiped out.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s awful.”
“It’s haunted me ever since. That night changed everything. My dad started drinking even more. My mom lost her fucking mind. Me and Rome had to pick up the slack and work for the Family. For a few years, we had to fend for ourselves.”
She turned around fully to face me. “That’s really messed up.”
“Yeah.”
“Is that why you started working for them?”
I nodded. “Somebody had to help put food on the table. Six kids. Two parents.”
She tensed. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“I know your deep, dark secret. I figured I should tell you mine.”
She raised a brow. “Having a rough childhood isn’t a secret.”
“Maybe not, but the idea of going back to that keeps me up at night. Being powerless again. It drives everything I do. It’s why I can’t be weak.”
“Is that why you threw out my birth control?”
A pack of pills was all that stood between me and keeping her forever. If I told her that, would she get pissed? I wanted her to keep talking to me, to stop looking so wounded when I walked into the room. Sighing, I raked a hand through my hair.
“It was the only way to get what I wanted.”
She fumed. “You didn’t even try to find another way.”
“No. I can’t say I did.”
Telling her about my feelings hadn’t worked. Neither did giving her the keys. Delilah’s stubborn streak would have ruined a perfectly good relationship, and I couldn’t have that.
Delilah turned her attention to the TV, frowning. The show continued, and she settled into her blanket and pillows, her foot almost touching my thigh.
She glanced at me.
I pretended to watch a baker frosting a cake as Delilah checked me out. Her eyes lingered on my dick, which hardened. I couldn’t help it.
I watched her bite her lip. The room was drenched in soft light that caused shadows to dance across her face.
Gradually, I edged closer. When she didn’t shift away, I reached out, my fingers brushing her foot. She didn’t jerk back. I began massaging, working the tension from her arch. A soft sigh slipped from her. Her expression melted into something more pliable. I kept my eyes locked on hers, watching every subtle surrender. My hands slid up her calves.
Her eyes fluttered.
I pulled on her legs, dragging her over my lap. I wrapped my arms underneath her and stood. She clung to my neck as I carried her out of the living room.
“I don’t know why I let you do this to me,” she sighed.
She could pretend to be bewildered by her desire for me. If that got her in my bed without a fuss, it suited me just fine.
I carried her over the threshold of the bedroom, just like a newly married couple. A flashback to our first night together burned in my head. Her in that wedding dress. The stolen Romanov bride I’d been determined to defile. She showed up to my hotel room, the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. So pretty. I should’ve married her right there.
I gently laid her on the bed.
Climbing onto the bed, I moved between her spread legs, my hands rough as I pushed her silk dress up to her waist. She sucked in a sharp breath, her skin covered in goosebumps in the cool air. Her panties were soaked, and I ripped them down her legs.
Her hips lifted, inviting me in. I smirked, lowering my head between her thighs. My tongue darted out, teasing her clit, and she gasped, hands gripping the sheets. The taste of her was addictive, driving me to lap at her with a fierce hunger. My tongue flicked her most sensitive spot. Her moans filled the room.