Raw Bloody Power
Chapter 41
74%
41
HAVE MY CAKE I loved living with my family, loved being able to walk down the hall and hang out with my little brother whenever I wanted to. Or cuddle up with my mom on the couch and watch a movie.
But my father ruined that nearly a week ago.
He broke my trust, my heart, and I can’t fathom another day in this house. I don’t want to see him, don’t want to be near him, don’t want to hear about all the ways he claims this arrangement is “necessary”.
“Ivory, please reconsider this,” my mom supplicates as I pack up my closet. “You don’t have to leave.”
“I do, Ma.” I don’t even motion a glance her way, folding at least twenty hangers over my arm. “I can’t be here anymore. Not around him. Not after what he’s forcing me to do.”
“I don’t agree with it, either, but he loves you, sweetheart, and he wants to see you with a man who can protect you long after he’s gone.”
Shows how well he knows Benedikt Koshka.
Forcibly dropping the clothes onto my bed, I fix her with a set of narrowed eyes and cross my arms. “Protect me from what exactly—and don’t you dare say the Guerras, because I haven’t seen or heard from Rio in over a decade.”
Maybe my subconscious was right. I’m getting a little too good at this lying thing…
“Well, yes.” She tips her head aside knowingly. “Your father’s afraid that once Santo and Rio take over, Rio might not be too keen on continuing the terms of the treaty.”
I want to tell her that the only two people who truly give a shit about this rivalry are Dad and Tommaso, that adding Benedikt to the mix isn’t a solution. But wasting my breath is as pointless as fighting about my impending marriage.
She claims not to be on board, yet I haven’t heard her advocating for me once. Haven’t heard her fighting my father until change is made and the whole thing is called off. She’s just sitting there, idly by, watching her one and only daughter be sacrificed on an altar to Satan in some sick, outdated ritual.
“It’s whatever, Mom. I’m done talking about this. I agreed, gave Pa my conditions, and that’s the end of it. As far as I’m concerned, my father isn’t who I thought he was and?—”
Knock, knock!
Both my mom and I flick our attention to the door where my “soon-to-be husband” now stands beneath the threshold, casually dressed in jeans and a plain white T-shirt, a stack of flattened boxes tucked beneath his arm.
“Hi.” He beams that Colgate endorsed grin our way, but all I can focus on is Rio’s mark engraved on his face. Deep and angry, it’s so much worse than I’d let myself imagine. “Your dad called and said you might need some help.”
“I’m good, but thanks,” I deadpan, turning back toward the closet as my mom rises off the bed and greets him.
They exchange a few hushed words, and by the time I’m heading for the bed with another stack of hangers, she’s gone. Benedikt pads further into the room and plants himself in front of me like the roadblock he is.
“Aren’t you going to say hello to your husband, malish?”
The way that entire query slips off his tongue so easily, as if he didn’t put his grimy hands on me in a malicious fashion and I’m not being forced into marrying him, makes me sick to my stomach. Clearly, he’s not above taking what he wants. He’ll never catch me off-guard again, though, and I refuse to let him intimidate me.
Dragging my stare up the hard lines of his chest, I meet his gaze mirthlessly, rallying every bit of Rio’s strength within me. “Please stop calling me that. You’re not my husband, and I already acknowledged your presence by declining your help. Feel free to drop the boxes and leave.” I make way to step around him and continue on with my business, but he stops me with a firm hand locking around my bicep.
“I’m not your husband yet,” he grinds out into my ear, his tone deadly. “In six weeks you’re mine to do with as I please, and believe me, I will. I agreed to your father’s terms and am allowing you the need for this ridiculous apartment before we exchange vows but make no mistake, Ivory— you’re mine. Whatever you had going on with Guerra, it stops now. If I even so much as see him in the near vicinity of your place, I’ll kill him. Understand me?”
Keeping my expression ironclad and unaffected, I nod, that’s it. Nothing less, nothing more. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, of a rebuttal, of knowing his threat to end the man I love is a weakness.
Dropping the boxes without care, he slinks an arm around my waist and presses me against him, the tip of his nose dragging along my neck. “I know Guerra says you played me, that our meeting was his doing, and your affections were an act, but I don’t buy it.” His teeth nip at the curve, tongue tracing a trail up to my ear. “Meeting you might have been on his terms, but I know what you felt for me was real, and I have every intention of rekindling that. You’ll be begging me to fuck you again soon enough.”
I nearly dry heave at the notion, at his proximity and the possessive way he holds me against him. The reminder I ever wanted this man to touch me surely doesn’t help. My stomach turns sourly, more still when his threat from moments ago plays back in the recesses of my mind.
I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to protect Rio, how we’re going to fly undetected under the radar, but I’ll be damned if Benedikt Koshka is the reason I don’t get to have my happily ever after. Half of me wants to let Rio have his way and conveniently get rid of him. The other half is already busy cooking up a plan.
From: Rio Guerra
To: Ivory Belluci
Subject: WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK?
Stop fucking playing with me, Ivory. UNBLOCK MY NUMBER RIGHT NOW.
If you’re suddenly running and succumbing to your fate, news flash for you… You can’t. I will find your ass so fast, your head will spin. You can’t sit there and tell me marrying that piece of shit is better than outing ourselves once and for all. Better than marrying me. Better than just letting me do away with the problem.
If you need it spelled out for you in terms you’ll understand:
· Do you not remember I’m obsessed with you and 100% liable to act completely of out fucking pocket because of it?
· Do you not remember how I’ve dicked you down seven ways from Sunday, rearranged your guts, and worshipped every square inch of your beautiful body almost every time I got my hands on you?
· Do you not remember begging me for more, squirting all over me after I made you come so hard you couldn’t see straight?
· Do not remember telling me you were mine?
· Do you not remember telling me you fucking LOVED me?
Do you want that to be him instead? I DOUBT THAT.
The next time I see you, I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’re going to be sore in places you didn’t know existed for the next month. I’d say fuck around and find out, but you already did by pulling this little stunt. I’m talking about every corner of your new apartment, marking my territory all over again. Then we’re going to do it in mine. You will be my girl, my Petal, my Princess, my slut, and my own personal whore all in a one-night span. Hope you’re ready.
I’ll say it again in case it didn’t sink in the first time… YOU BETTER NOT BE RUNNING. Because if you are, I will find you. You can’t hide from me, Petal. You’re mine. Beautiful, smart as hell, capable of anything, and most importantly— MINE .
Send me the address. I’ll be there at nine, and you better be there, too.
143
I’m cackling as I finally read through Rio’s heated email. I know I shouldn’t be; the fear of losing one another is very much real, but his reaction is honestly adorable, hilarious, and endearing. Just makes me love him more.
Truthfully, I didn’t think he’d even notice I blocked him for a few hours. I didn’t do it because I’m running scared. I blocked him (and removed all traces of him from my phone) because I was afraid of what Benedikt might do should he see a notification when my phone was lying around. Thank God it was in my pocket when this came in, because I’d forgotten all about Rio’s email tendencies.
Now that I’m alone with a bottle of wine and shit ton of boxes to unpack, I tap into my blocked list and remove his number.
The call rings only twice before he answers with a, “Took you long enough.”
“Relax your ass, baby,” I laugh, flicking the unscrewed cap somewhere in the kitchen. “I wasn’t running. I blocked you because my wonderful father decided to tell Benedikt I needed help moving and he showed up at my house with claims and threats pertaining to you.”
“Of course he did.” I can all but hear the way his eyes roll. “I’m not even gonna about ask what he said because frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck.”
“Good ‘cause I wasn’t gonna tell you anyway,” I snicker, though I’m entirely serious.
Sharing as much would only add fuel to the already raging fire that is his rancor for Benedikt Koshka, and if there’s any hope of pulling off what I’ve been working up all day, I need the man as level-headed as possible.
Rio makes this sound in the back of his throat, but doesn’t comment. Instead, he asks, “Is he gone?”
Taking a sip of the pink moscato straight from the bottle, I plop down onto my new couch and cross my feet. “Yuppp.”
“I’m coming over.”
“No, you’re not.”
“What do you mean no I ’m not?” He holds the phone close to his mouth as he says this.
I almost cackle all over again. “Part of the stuff I said I wasn’t gonna tell you about.”
“Please,” he smacks his teeth, “I’ll jam a knife in his carotid before he can even make it into the apartment. He might’ve gotten me once. Won’t be happening again, I can assure you. I’m coming over, we’re having dinner, and then I’m making good on my promises from that email. Case closed.”
There’s no reasoning with him, and although I know I should hold my ground, because God only knows if Benedikt has his minions circling the block like vultures, I want to see him. I need to see him. Spending hours with Benedikt—albeit mostly in silence and without incident—was a taxing feat, and I don’t want to end the day on that note .
I want to end it with the only man I could ever belong to.
“Fine, but be careful, please. He could be anywhere,” I exhort, a little on the nervous side as I glance out the window and scope out the main road. I wish I’d brought the dogs, but they’re too big to live their lives in a small apartment with no yard.
“I’ll be there soon, baby girl,” he croons.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I haven’t worn this thing since the day Rio showed up to my dorm. Even after all these years, the red rose still shines as lustrously as the day he gave it to me, the thin gold chain free of knots, kinks, or tangles. I’ve taken surprisingly good care of it, and right now, I’ve never been happier I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out. He said he wanted to mark his territory, right?
I’m giving him a head start.
Locking the clasp in place, I smooth the necklace out and continue the motion down the front of my frilly pink apron. It’s tiny, more of a costume piece than anything else, and definitely reveals the fact I’m not wearing anything except the new pair of panties I bought just for him. I ordered them after he admitted to starting a collection.
From the front, it’s just a plain black thong. Nothing special, right? The back, however, has his name strung through the waistband in diamond charms. Again, giving him a head start here. Devil horns all but pierce through my scalp knowing without a doubt what his reaction will be after days of us not seeing one another.
Twenty minutes later, I’m slowly incorporating the wet ingredients into the dry, when there’s finally a knock at the door. With a soft squeal, I scamper over on the tips of my toes and quickly steal a peek through the peep hole. It’s him.
Black sweater.
Hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.
Head swinging side to side as he scopes out both ends of the hallway.
I wrench the door open and yank him inside, not allowing him even a second to assess me before the locks are secured behind him and I’m carefully wrapping myself around him like a vine. I’m not entirely sure how badly his wounds still hurt, and I don’t want to hit a stitch.
The answer is either very little or none at all because he does exactly as I’d expected, chasing my lips as his hands seal around my ass, lifting me off the ground.
My bare as hell ass.
Rio’s eyes snap wide open, meeting my already awaiting stare and the shit-eating grin on my face. “Jumping straight into the deep end, I see,” he croons, easing back enough to note my tits practically spilling out from the top of the apron.
He cocks a dark brow, and I shrug as innocently as I can manage. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just making dessert. ”
“Your mom already did that. Best cake in the world.” He squeezes said cake and walks us further into the apartment, setting me onto the faux marble counter beside the bowl. “It’s so damn good, I want another slice right now.”
“After dinner,” I chide him playfully, pushing him back hard enough to slip onto my feet and purposely turn away from him. “Go order something while I finish up here.”
Three…
Two…
A hiss whirs through his teeth. There’s no need to glance his way for confirmation; I can feel the heat of his perusal searing my skin as he takes in his name adorning the tiny garment. When I finally peek over my shoulder, he’s got that dark look painted on his face.
The one that promises nothing but filthy things.
I mentally high five myself at the sight of it.
Helping himself to another two handfuls, he spreads my cheeks apart and presses himself flush to my back. “I want a picture of that.”
I nod and tilt my head aside, granting him better access to my neck. “Go for it. I’m not gonna stop you.”
His lips spread against my skin, teeth sinking into the slope for a mere second. “Do not move a single inch,” he warns, promptly dropping to his haunches behind me. “Not one.”
The sound of shuffling, then the shutter of his phone camera goes off. Again with one of his hand latched onto the left cheek .
“Look at me,” he commands, his tone deep and domineering. “Over your shoulder.”
I do as requested and give him the most sultry stare beneath my lashes.
The shutter clicks again.
They must’ve turned out the way he wanted because all too soon he’s biting down on his bottom lip as he scrolls back and forth between the three.
“Show me. I wanna see,” I cajole him eagerly, drawing his stare upon me once more.
“I will, when I’m done. Spread your legs, Petal.”
Widening my stance, I fix my gaze to the black and white marbled surface beneath me and listen intently. I’m expecting to hear the shutter again, but the video chime rings out instead. Rio does that little appreciative hum in the back of his throat as he palms both cheeks, first one, then the other, then gives each one a mild slap.
“Goddamn,” he growls, slipping the material to one side, his thumb running through my lips. “That’s mine.”
He’s so caught up down there, he doesn’t realize the slight shift of my body as I lean forward and reach for my phone not far away. If he gets to film me, I want a video of my own, of him taking pleasure in my body.
Of him worshipping me without even really touching me.
Setting the device on silent, I open up the camera and tap the record button on selfie mode, capturing first myself in all my flushed glory before holding it over my shoulder. Pretty sure I catch the part where he says “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen” before he realizes what I’m doing and flashes me that devilish grin. A bite to my ass and he rises to full height, keeping his eyes on the camera as he sets his phone beside us and licks his way up my shoulder.
Two seconds later and he’s pulling the strings of my apron.
“Rio!” I laugh as the fabric falls away, only to moan and drop my head against his chest when he grabs my tits with rough hands, tugging and rolling my nipples.
“Keep that phone recording, baby girl. I want this video, too.”
I don’t get to respond. In a calculated move I was not expecting, he spins me around, rolls my panties down my legs, and sets me on top of the counter all over again. The scrap of fabric goes straight into his pocket as he lunges for my mouth and takes hold of my breasts.
“The panties. The necklace. You want my mark all over you tonight, don’t you?” he mumbles against my lips.
My heart soars that he noticed the piece of jewelry, head bobbing as I trap his neck in one arm. “On me. In me. Everywhere.”
“Mmm. About to have you looking like a Picasso when I’m done with you. Lie back for me.”
I cut the video just as I’m yielding to his command and tap at the screen, enabling the back camera. With only his stare, Rio traces every inch of my body, licking his lips when he reaches the apex of my thighs. When he eyes the bowl, I already know what he’s about to do.
Before I can protest against it, he’s decorating my skin with the chocolate cake batter. I yelp when the first, cool drop hits my clit, creating the starting point for the trail he drizzles along the center of my body. Veering off to one nipple, he circles it a few rounds before hitting the other. The bowl clatters beside us when he dives between my legs and his tongue comes out to play, retracing the sweetened path he just made.
He watches me while he does it, lapping my clit clean, his fingers teasing my entrance. I expect him to keep going, but he lingers there for some time, flicking it, sucking on it, plunging those digits in deeper.
“You keep doing that, and I’m not gonna be able to hold the phone up much longer,” I pant, wanting nothing more than to run my hands through his hair and roll my hips into his fine face.
Rio solves the problem for me, plucking the device from my hand and tossing it somewhere. He could’ve thrown it on the floor, and I wouldn’t care, too busy lying here like a frosted cake, eager for him to lick me all over.
And he does, wasting absolutely no time as he begins his ascent. The spot over my belly has me clenching and giggling. It tickles, especially when he dips his tongue into my belly button and cinches his hands at my waist. The scruff dusting his face highlights his smile as he continues up the rest of my torso before squeezing my breasts together and devouring them like they’re his last meal.
“Like I said, best cake in the world,” he purrs, head swiveling side to side as he licks both nipples in one fell swoop.
My eyes roll to the back of my head, the sensation going straight to my clit. He wasn’t lying when he said titty play always does it for me. It’s like my nipples have a direct connection to my pussy, especially when they’re under his touch. “Rio…”
“I wanna fuck these tits, Ivory,” he growls wickedly. “Watch my cock disappear between them and into your mouth.”
Jesus Christ.
So dirty. He’s always so dirty—and I love it.
Stealing my painted toes beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, I try coaxing them downward, my arms snaking between us to reach for said cock. “Do it, do it now,” I insist.
But he denies me, and with one last bite to my nipples, dips his way back between my legs. “Don’t think so. I’m not done tasting you yet.”
No, he wasn’t because he goes at it in double time. The flat of his tongue, the tip, he uses every inch of it, fixating on my clit.
Assaulting it.
Loving on it.
I’m writhing on the countertop within minutes, a sticky, sweaty mess on the verge of exploding. Rio hums in response, those large, capable hands squeezing my thighs. The more lax I fall, succumbing to his ministrations, the more he gives me, adding a finger to the mix, then two. Although more languid than anything else, he’s no less purposeful with every move he makes, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
“Crow,” I pant, my chest heaving as those familiar brisk tingles start building at the base of my spine.
He doesn’t reply, shaking his head from side to side as he sucks on my clit and buries his face deeper, the prickle of his light scruff only adding to the rush of pleasure ripping through me. And the second those thick digits crook against that spot, I nearly crumble. “Oh, God, right there.”
Another satisfied hum reverberates against my skin. “That’s it, baby girl. Come for me,” he coaxes, slurping me up, increasing the speed.
Changing the angle
I know what he’s doing, drawing a blissful smile on my lips. “You’re trying to make me squirt again, aren’t you?”
Rio groans at the mere mention of it and bobs his head between my legs. “Hell yes I am.”
“Faster, then,” I urge him. “Fuck me faster.”
Grunting, he heeds my command and goes for it like a man possessed.
Doesn’t take much, really.
The wet sounds rending the air combined with the mewls and moans falling from my lips tell just how close I am. Those sexy as fuck veins in his forearm protrude violently as I watch him fingerfuck me into ecstasy, his chain linked bracelet bouncing around his wrist. It’s hot as hell, my walls clamping down around his fingers in response.
“Fuck yes, right there,” he grits through his teeth, knowing damn well I’m about to hit that crest. “Give it to me, Ivory. Fucking come for–”
I’m free-falling before he can finish that sentence, gushing all over him, onto the floor . I hear remnants splashing on the tiles. Throwing my head back, I scream a wild, “Rio! ”
I’ve barely crossed the peak when he’s hauling me to his chest and thrusting inside me, amplifying my orgasm. Hands in my hair, he fuses our mouths together and lashes his tongue against mine, his hips moving a mile per minute.
He tastes like chocolate… and me.
“When we move in together, I expect to be greeted like that every night.” He’s smiling as he says this, the words blasting down my throat from exertion. “Best way to walk through the door.”
“I think we can make that happen,” I pant.
“Good. Now hold on tight ’cause, per the flashback counter, I still owe you four orgasms and you’re coming on my cock before we have dinner.”
For the record, I came twice before he bought me my pizza.