Twisted Pride: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Camorra Chronicles Book 3) -
Twisted Pride: Chapter 14
Over the next couple of days, Remo kept his distance. We didn’t go on runs, and Kiara or one of his brothers brought me food.
The look in his eyes when I’d screamed in the basement, it was difficult to describe, but I knew for some reason it had bothered him.
Nino had informed me this morning that Samuel was back in Minneapolis. I believed him. Remo had promised and despite my difficult feelings toward the Capo, I knew he’d keep this promise. I also knew that Samuel and my family were suffering every day I was here.
Nino treated me even colder than before—if that was even possible. I had a feeling things between Remo and him were strained because of Samuel. Nino probably would have killed my brother. It was the obvious solution, the one Dante would have chosen. But Remo … he was unpredictable. Cruel. Fierce.
I didn’t understand him.
If he’d tortured and killed Samuel, I would have hated him with brutal abandon, would have done anything I could to kill him. But he hadn’t. I was scared about his motives, but more than that … I was scared because a twisted part of me was grateful. I wasn’t sure exactly why, but Remo had done this because of me.
It was way past midnight when I heard my door open. I couldn’t sleep, my mind whirring with thoughts.
Lying on my side, I watched the tall figure step in. I knew it was Remo from the way he moved, from his tall frame, the shock of his black hair. “You’re awake,” he said in a low voice.
“Did you want to watch me sleep?”
He moved closer. His face lay in shadows, and my pulse picked up. He sank down on the edge of the bed, and I rolled onto my back.
“No,” he said in a strange tone. “I prefer you awake.”
He leaned over me, one of his arms braced beside my hip.
“What do you want?” I muttered.
“I want you gone.”
My eyes widened. “Then let me go.”
“I fear it’s not that easy.” He bent lower and then his palm touched my belly and slowly slid down. I held my breath, becoming still in a mix of shock and anticipation. He cupped me through the covers and my clothes. The touch was light, almost questioning, and I was completely frozen. My center tingled and that, more than Remo’s touch, sent a fierce stab of fear through me. I wanted him to touch me without a barrier between us, wanted to get a taste of something utterly forbidden, something I wasn’t allowed to want.
Neither of us said anything. I knew what paralyzed me, but what restrained Remo?
He exhaled slowly and stood. Without another word, he disappeared. Good Lord, what was happening? With him. With me. With the both of us.
That middle of the night visit seemed to have done something to Remo because he returned to our previous routine of taking me on runs and walks through the gardens. I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or worried. I’d almost missed our daily arguments because he took me seriously and was strangely excited about my comebacks. He didn’t want me to be the restrained lady. Far from it. Remo thrived on chaos and conflict. His presence left me breathless and overwhelmed.
I slanted Remo a look as he walked beside me in silence. His expression was harsh, his dark eyes forbidding. I stopped and after a moment he did too. He narrowed his eyes.
“Why did you really let Samuel go? I want the truth.”
Remo glared down at me. “I think you’re forgetting what you are. I don’t owe you the truth. I don’t even owe you these fucking strolls through the gardens. You are my captive, Serafina.”
Serafina? “What about ‘Angel?’” I retorted.
Remo gripped my upper arms. “Careful. I think handling you with kid gloves gave you the wrong idea.”
“I think I have exactly the right idea.”
Remo’s fingers tightened. I lifted my hands and pressed them to his chest. The muscles flexed under my touch. Remo lowered his gaze to my hands then slowly looked back up. The expression on his face burned a fierce trail through my body. Fury and desire.
Remo jerked me against him, knocking the air out of me. One hand gripped my neck, and his mouth pressed against my ear. “I don’t remember you pushing me away when I touched your pussy a few nights ago, Angel,” he growled.
Shame washed over me from the memory, but worse, so much worse … longing.
“Every fucking day you want me a little more. I can see it in your eyes, can see the struggle in them. You aren’t allowed to have me like I’m not allowed to have you.”
“You are Remo Falcone. You are Capo. You rule over the West. Who could stop you from having me?” I murmured. My God. What was wrong with me?
His fingers shifted on my neck, loosening, and he pulled back to meet my gaze, and I wished he hadn’t because the fierceness in his eyes was like the first breath of air after holding your breath for too long.
“The only force on this earth that can stop me is you. You’re the only one I’d allow to do so,” he said in a dark voice. He kissed me, a slide of his lips over mine. “How much longer will you?”
I wanted to deepen the kiss. My fingers trembled against Remo’s chest. I wanted to look away from his dark eyes and at the same time I wanted to drown in their power. I wanted so many things when he was around. Things I’d always be forbidden to want.
A man of unparalleled cruelty. My captor. My enemy.
I stumbled back, wheezing.
“Do you want to run again?” The dark amusement in his voice wasn’t as convincing as it usually was. He sounded strained.
I didn’t want to run, and that was the problem because I should want to run from the desire. I took another step back.
Remo smiled darkly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as scared of me as you are now.”
Terrified. I was completely terrified. I turned and ran back to the mansion. On the terrace I collided with Kiara, and we had to grip each other to keep our balance. My eyes met Nino’s—he was standing behind her as always—and for a moment I was sure he’d attack me, but Kiara pulled away from me.
“Hey, are you alright?” she asked, touching my arm, looking concerned.
I nodded jerkily.
“You sure? Did Remo do something?”
Did he? Or did I? The lines were getting blurry. Remo was right. Every day I was here things got more complicated. Captivity broke me, only not in the way I thought it would.
Nino’s gaze moved past us. I knew whom he was seeking.
“No,” I whispered in reply to her question.
Kiara frowned. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”
“Kiara,” Nino warned.
“No,” she said firmly. “This is getting ridiculous. Serafina won’t hurt me.”
She took my hand and led me inside where she pushed me down on the sofa. Remo and Nino remained outside. I could hear the low rumble of their voices. It sounded as if they were in an argument.
Kiara handed me a glass of water then sat down beside me. “Is it because of your brother? Nino said they allowed him to return to the Outfit. That’s good, isn’t it?”
I nodded. It was. My brother. My family. The Outfit. My fiancé. I owed all of them loyalty. I owed them resistance and a fight.
“Serafina?” Kiara touched my thigh.
I met her compassionate gaze and touched her hand. “I’m losing myself.”
Her eyes widened then flitted to the French windows. “You know, I was completely terrified of Remo in the beginning. But I saw sides of him that made me realize he’s more than brutality and cruelty.”
“Remo is the cruelest man I know. He is beyond redemption.”
She smiled sadly. “Maybe he just needs someone who will show him the path to redemption.”
I laughed harshly. “I hope you don’t think that’s going to be me. The only path I’ll show him is the road to Hell. I hate him.”
Kiara squeezed my thigh but didn’t say anything. I was relieved when Nino took me up to my room, not Remo.
I traced the line of the healed cut on my forearm, wishing it were still fresh, wishing Remo would hurt me again. More than that, I wished I didn’t need that kind of reminder because Remo Falcone was beyond redemption. I shouldn’t need reminding.
The next day Remo and I did our longest run so far despite the exceptionally hot late August sun. We both needed to relieve pent up energy it seemed. We hardly spoke. I tried to keep my mind blank, tried not to think of my family who was suffering because Remo refused to make a new demand. Guilt became harder to bear every day. The guilt over not suffering the way I should be.
My eyes registered a shadow above our heads. A large black and white bird of prey with a red head. “Look,” I panted. “There’s your spirit animal. A vulture.”
Remo stopped and laughed. A real laugh. Not dark, taunting, or cruel. “Good to know you replace me that repulsive.”
I wished. He took a bottle of water from the small running backpack and handed it to me. God, how I wished I found Remo’s body repulsive. I took a sip of water then handed him the bottle back.
“When are you going to ask my uncle for Rocco Scuderi?” I asked to distract myself and him.
Remo’s expression hardened, his eyes returning to the sky. “Vultures wait for their prey to drop dead. I think the Outfit’s almost there.”
“You can’t win this game. The moment you return me, the Outfit will rise and strike back. An endless spiral of violence will start.”
“Why would you say that, Angel? Don’t you want to be returned? Danilo is waiting eagerly to wed and bed you.”
I followed the large bird’s flight, wondering how it would feel to be free like that. A marriage to Danilo seemed so unreal in that moment, so far away, when I had already been less than forty minutes away from being married to him. That girl in the beautiful white wedding dress, she felt like more of a stranger every day. My eyes were drawn to my hand, but the ring wasn’t there. For the first time since my engagement to Danilo, I’d forgotten to put the ring on in the morning.
“One month,” Remo reminded me as he led me through the garden.
It took me a moment to understand what he meant. “Since you captured me,” I said quietly.
One month. Sometimes it felt so much longer, sometimes like only yesterday. I had never thought I’d survive a single day in the hands of the Camorra, in Remo Falcone’s hands, and now I’d survived so many more. Remo was more patient than I’d thought. I was fairly sure my family and the Outfit was at a point by now that they’d hand Scuderi over, even if my grandfather disapproved. He was an old man close to death.
I stared down at my bare feet in the grass. As a child I’d loved to run around barefoot, but eventually I had stopped because I was told it was undignified. Ice Princess. I’d enjoyed being her in public, even if she wasn’t a reflection of my true self. It was who I was supposed to be as Dante’s niece, as Danilo’s wife. Controlled. Dignified. Graceful.
I caught Remo watching me. No control. Unbridled emotion. Furious passion.
One month.
I averted my eyes. Remo led me closer to the mansion.
“I want to know what’s going on in your head,” Remo said.
I was glad he couldn’t. “Maybe I’ll tell you if you tell me what’s going on in yours.”
Remo stopped. “Right now I’m imagining how it would feel to bury my face between your legs, Angel.”
I froze. Remo obviously enjoyed my shock if his smirk was an indication. I didn’t get a chance to retort because a low moan sounded above us. My eyes darted to the open window, my brows pulling together. Remo moved behind my back, standing very close and leaning forward slightly so his face was beside mine. He nodded up to the window. “That’s Nino and Kiara’s bedroom.”
A woman moaned again, an abandoned, uncontrolled sound full of pleasure.
I took a step back but bumped into Remo, who didn’t budge. “That’s the sound a woman makes when a man is eating her out.”
“You are disgusting,” I gritted out, trying to get away, but Remo’s arms wrapped around me from behind, keeping me in place.
“Please,” Kiara gasped out. “Please, more.”
“Do you want to know why I know Nino is currently licking pussy? It’s because you don’t hear him. His face is buried in it.”
Kiara’s moans turned louder, desperate, and then she cried out.
I wanted to be disgusted, but my body reacted hearing these sounds. Heat gathered between my legs.
“Have you ever made this sound, Angel?” he murmured. “No, you haven’t. But don’t you wonder how it would feel to be overwhelmed with so much pleasure to force these kinds of moans from your lips?”
I stopped struggling, but Remo didn’t loosen his hold on me. His firm chest, warm and strong, still pressed up against my back. “A tongue between your thighs, licking, sucking. Don’t you want to know how that would feel?”
I pressed my lips together, but I could do nothing about the trickle of wetness between my thighs. Above us new moans rang out. Kiara, followed by deeper, more restrained grunts.
“You are a grown woman, and yet you’ve never come so hard you lost yourself. You’ve never had a man buried between your thighs, eating you out.” Remo’s mouth brushed my ear. Then his tongue slid along the outer rim until it reached my earlobe. He circled it then drew it between his lips and sucked lightly, and I felt it all the way between my legs. He released my earlobe and exhaled. Something hard dug into my lower back. I should have drawn back in disgust, but I was utterly frozen.
“Are you wet, Serafina? Wet for me?” Remo rasped in my ear, and a small shiver passed through my traitorous body upon hearing his voice.
“I won’t ever bow to your will, Remo,” I whispered harshly.
“Who says I want you to bow, Angel? I want you to give me yourself freely because you want to, because you choose to. Have you ever chosen anything only because you wanted to? Without heeding the consequences? Without regard to what’s expected of you? All your life you’ve bowed to your parents’ will, your uncle’s will, the Outfit’s will, and once I’ll release you, you’ll bow to Danilo’s will.”
I hated Remo, hated him for making sense, hated him for getting under my skin. And I hated myself for letting him.
“One day you will realize that you were never freer than in your time with me. Whatever you do, no one from the Outfit must know, and even if they replace out, they won’t blame you, Angel.”
I closed my eyes, trying to ignore how good Remo’s body felt against mine, trying to block the moans growing in crescendo, but my throbbing center was difficult to forget. Remo’s arms around me shifted until his thumb brushed the underside of my breast. I stilled but didn’t push him away, didn’t utter a word of protest. His mouth found my throat, nibbling, licking, biting, and his hand slipped under my shirt. Rough fingertips slid over my skin, higher and higher until they reached my nipple through the lace of my bra.
My lips parted from the sensation.
“Won’t you tell me to stop?” Remo murmured in my ear before his tongue led a wet trail down my throat. His free hand cupped my cheek and twisted my face around so he could assault my mouth with an all-consuming kiss. His tongue licked every crevice of my mouth, tasting, consuming, owning my lips.
“You better tell me to stop, Angel, because if I don’t stop now, I fear I won’t stop at all.”
I barely listened to his words, too caught up in the sensation his fingers on my nipple created, too overwhelmed by the moans ringing out above us. Remo released my face and nipple, gripped my hips in a bruising hold, and got down on his knees. Glancing over my shoulder, shock washed over me to see the Capo kneeling before me.
He pushed up my skirt and bit into my ass cheek then slid his tongue over the spot. His palm cupped my other cheek, hard, kneading possessively before he slid up and wedged his fingers under the strap of my thong. He tugged hard and the drenched fabric jerked against my center and clit. I gasped in surprise and pleasure.
Remo chuckled against my ass cheek then circled his tongue over the soft skin while his fingers kept tugging at my thong. How could this feel so good, so overpoweringly perfect? How could the sensation of fabric rubbing against my sensitive flesh bring me down like that?
Remo tugged harder and I arched, biting down on my lip to keep the sounds in. He sucked the skin of my ass cheek into his mouth as he gave my thong a few hard tugs. Waves of heat and tingling spread from my center to every nerve ending in my body. I was getting closer to something impossible, wondrous, mind-blowing. Something I’d never felt, not even close. Then Remo dropped his hand and released my skin from his mouth. I had to hold back a sound of protest. Gripping my hips, Remo turned me around. I stared down at him. He knelt before me, his eyes dark and possessive, a dangerous smile playing around his lips.
Even kneeling at my feet, Remo oozed dominance, control, power. Looking down at him I still felt like the one he brought to her knees.
I narrowed my eyes, wanting to step away from him. Away from his violence and darkness that seemed to draw me in like an undercurrent.
As if he could feel my resistance, Remo tightened his hold on my hips and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to my white panties, right over my throbbing nub. My hand flew forward, gripping his muscular shoulders to steady myself. His eyes pierced me to the core with their intensity as he leaned his rough cheek against my thigh, his mouth close to my center. “I can smell your arousal, Angel,” he said in a raw voice that traveled through my body like a jolt of electricity.
As I watched, he smirked, parted his mouth, stuck his tongue out, and traced the small valley where my panties clung to my folds. I began to tremble.
“Will you let me pull down your panties and taste your pussy?”
I didn’t say anything. Not yes, but worse. Worse … I didn’t say no. Because I didn’t want to. I wanted Remo, had never wanted anything more.
REMO
Serafina stared down at me with hatred, but she didn’t fight when I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her thong. I waited a couple of heartbeats, relishing in her silence, bathing in her surrender. I pulled down her panties. She shuddered but lifted her feet so she could step out of her panties. I pushed her skirt up. “Hold it up, Angel.”
Her elegant fingers curled around the hem of her skirt, and she pressed it up against her flat stomach.
I was at eye level with her pussy. The trimmed hair above her clit glistened with her juice, and her lips were swollen with arousal. I leaned forward, breathing in her heady scent. Before I’d kidnapped Serafina, I’d entertained different scenarios of how I would conquer her, break her, but this hadn’t been among them. I had to admit I enjoyed it tremendously.
I ran my rough palms up her smooth thighs. She trembled, but not from fear, and fuck … with Serafina I preferred any emotion but fear.
My thumbs stroked her soft folds and parted them, revealing her small nub. She released a shaky breath, face half terrified, half expectant. “My mouth being the first to taste your pussy, I’ll be very thorough, Angel.”
I leaned forward and licked her clit lightly. She bit down on her lip, stifling a sound. She closed her eyes, her cheeks blazing. I pulled back a couple of inches. “Yes, don’t watch, my little angel. Maybe you’ll manage to pretend I’m someone else.”
Her eyes flew open, furious, and she returned my gaze. She wouldn’t look away again.
I dove in with small, gentle licks, testing how she’d react. A flood of her juice was my reward. I’d never been with a virgin or someone inexperienced, and I hadn’t gone down on a woman in ages, much less ever been gentle with one. This was a new experience but one I found myself enjoying. My cock throbbed every time my tongue delved between her lips, from her opening up to her clit. I tasted every part of her sweet pussy, traced the smooth inside of her lips, her opening, knowing my cock would soon claim that part of her.
Serafina shook, her legs starting to give in.
“Hold on to the wall,” I ordered, and she complied without protest, leaning forward, her forearms braced against the rough façade, golden hair curtaining her face as she glared down at me while I ate her pussy. My teeth grazed her clit lightly, and she jerked, a small moan slipping out.
I brushed the inside of her knee and pushed. She parted for me until she stood with her legs in a V over me. I tilted my head up, my hands curling over her hips and firmly pulled her down on my mouth and sucked each fold lightly before I closed my lips around her clit. She started rocking against my face almost desperately, and I complied with her silent demand by practically burying myself in her pussy, lapping at her, diving into her tightness, sucking. Then her lips parted, her brows pulling together in shock and astonishment, and she tensed.
My eyes drank in the expression on her face, the wild abandon of passion on her perfect features, the shock, the resignation, the delight. Possessiveness wasn’t one of my character traits, because I owned everything that mattered, but seeing Serafina in the throes of her orgasm and knowing I was the first man to give it to her, I felt fucking possessive. She was mine, body and soul, and would be until I decided to set her free.
I smirked against her as her pussy throbbed. After another long lick, I leaned my head back against the rough stone and licked my lips. Realization filled Serafina’s eyes, and her face twisted with horror and shame.
I smiled darkly. She shook her head, stepping back, tugging at her skirt until it covered her pussy again.
I stayed on the ground, my cock throbbing in my pants, my chin coated with her juices, and my body swelled with sweet triumph. “Run, Angel. Run from what you’ve done,” I murmured with a dark smile, and Serafina did. She whirled around, blond hair whipping through the air, and stormed away.
No one knew better than I did that you couldn’t run from what you’ve done.
I pushed to my feet, wiped my chin with the back of my hand, and set out to replace my angel. She’d received pleasure; now it was time she gave something back.
I wanted nothing less than every last part of her. Her innocence, her heart, her soul, her body. Her purity and her darkness.
I would take everything.
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