Twins for the Mafia Heir (The Warwicks #3)

26. Emma

Chapter 26

Emma

I wake up the next morning determined to tell Achilles the truth and beg him for forgiveness- only to find him missing from his side of the bed. I panic for a moment before spotting the note left on my nightstand. According to it, Achilles left first thing this morning to lay down some ground rules with Fantasia about our new living arrangement.

My heart clenches. Those rules would be different, surely, if he knew exactly who he was sheltering in his home and bed. But I’m too late to do anything about it now.

More importantly, Achilles might be in danger if he’s going back to Wesley Hall on his own. As insane as it sounds- especially given I’m supposed to be the helpless mafia princess- I wish he’d taken me along to watch his back.

Well, I can’t do anything about that now either. What I can do is look after Sidony, and make sure she doesn’t spend the day worrying about her father even though I will.

Luckily, the morning passes quickly as I let a newly exhilarated Sidony take me on a second tour of Ashwood House and its aesthetically overgrown gardens. The mood of the entire property is so different from Wesley Hall that I almost feel like I’m in a different country. Sidony is shy around any maids we come across since it’s been nearly a year since she encountered them, but they smile and wave and coo over her until she’s smiling again. And the butler and housekeeper are both older, perfectly polite individuals that don’t even cause my hackles to raise.

We eat a light lunch in the sunroom of the house, take a walk through the chilly gardens, then I take Sidony up to her room for her nap. She begs me not to leave her side until she’s asleep, and I’m more than happy to oblige.

Even after her breathing slows and her eyes droop closed, I cling to her hand just a little bit longer before I let go.

By this time, it’s nearly one in the afternoon and my stomach is in a thousand knots. Should Achilles be back by now? Did he stay to get the rest of our things packed and transported to Ashwood House? Or is Fantasia still screaming at him for belittling her and killing her men? Is she doing worse?

I’m pacing the hallway outside Achilles’s bedroom when I hear the front door open and close downstairs. A long stride and sure footsteps come straight for the stairs. I hurry to meet them, my heart in my throat- and almost slam headfirst into Achilles as he makes it to the second floor.

“Achilles-”

He has me off my feet before I can say more than that, almost knocking a vase of flowers off a hall table as he sits me on top of it. I gasp, and his tongue is in my mouth, his rich musk enveloping me as he kisses me hard.

And speaking of hard-

He thrusts my knees open and shoves up my skirt, stepping between my legs and pressing his pelvis into mine. I gasp again, a pulse of desire going through me at the proof of his erection, separated from my pussy by too many layers of fabric. Achilles can’t seem to choose where his hands should be. He kneads my upper thighs, then plunges his fingers into my hair, then runs his palms over my breasts and squeezes.

I’m so hot I could catch fire any second, and it’s not just from his sudden, passionate attentions.

“What about the staff- they might-”

“This is my house,” Achilles growls into my mouth. I feel the reverberations down my spine. “Any surface I choose to fuck you on is my business.”

A bolt of lightning goes through my whole body and my spine softens almost instinctively. I wrap my arms around his neck, closing the distance between us, and tilt my head up so he can deepen our kiss. He runs his tongue along my teeth, his fingers grip the fabric of my shirt at my back, and he crushes me closer, closer, molding our bodies into each other.

He really means to fuck me in the hall, on this table. I’m on fire from the thrill of it and shocked by his blatant hunger at the same time. Just yesterday he gave his kiss to me willingly for the first time, and today he’s riding me on the furniture.

Is this to make up for the weeks of silence between us, or did last night awaken something in him?

I feel like… last night awakened something in me too, but as Achilles reaches under my skirt and inches down my underwear, I can’t for the life of me remember what it was. His fingers drag up and down my clit, sending bolts of raw desire through me with every pass. And when he thrusts three of them into my pussy, I break our kiss just so I can keep breathing properly. Achilles presses his lips to my throat, drags his tongue over my skin, fucks me lazily with his fingers, and I’m helpless to stop him even if I wanted to.

And why the hell would I want to?

Achilles presses his thumb to the top of my clit, and the sensation is like a shock to the system. He circles that thumb around my very core, winding my body around him like a string around his finger. His lips press against mine, forcing me to taste and breathe and feel nothing but him. I lick his lower lip, and he bites mine as he presses my G-spot like a button, and suddenly I’m outside myself completely. Pleasure explodes through my brain and body. It’s all I can do not to scream for the whole house to hear, but I muffle it in Achilles’s shoulder.

“Forgive me,” Achilles pants, his lips brushing my ear. “I suppose you can’t enjoy this fully if you have to keep quiet.” He kisses my cheek lingeringly, his voice soft and his stubble tickling. “Let’s try this again in bed.”

My throat goes dry. My body is trembling, aching , with the need to have him inside it. I wrap my legs around his waist, ready for him to lift me up and carry me straight to our room- then jerk back so hard I knock the back of my skull against the wall.

“Wait, stop-” I gasp, and Achilles immediately steps back.

What am I doing ?! How did I manage to forget what I meant to say the moment this man touched me? Before we go any further, I have to tell him who I really am, and why I’m really here.

Most importantly, I have to tell him that I’m desperate to stay.

“Did I hurt you?” Achilles asks, and I realize I’ve been quiet for seconds too long.

“No- no, never,” I choke out. “I-I just… I mean… I need to tell you…”

Oh my god, the words won’t come out. I open my mouth, and my throat closes. Shakily, I slide off the hall table, but looking up at Achilles from my real height does nothing to help.

“I need to tell you-” I try again, but still I can’t force myself to say it. I’m no longer trembling with pleasure. My stomach isn’t swooping with desire. All the good feelings that exploded through me a minute ago have been replaced by sick, crippling terror.

I’ve never felt more like I’ve belonged to people and the place they’re in than I do now. And now that I’m on the precipice, I don’t know if I’ll survive losing it. It was one thing to decide I’d tell him the truth last night while he slept, but looking up into his brown eyes, the taste of his mouth on my tongue, I don’t know if I have the strength.

“I-I need to tell you something, Achilles.”

He waits, looking troubled and more than a little impatient now. “What is it, Raleigh?” he asks. I flinch at the name.

Tell him your real one . Tell him you’re Emma Clarke . You can make him understand, but first you have to tell him.

I swallow dryly. “I’m not-”

A door slams downstairs, and I jump right out of my skin. I’m almost grateful for the interruption- until I hear a whole stampede of footsteps come through the house.

What-

A woman shrieks. The sound of a gunshot interrupts her. Achilles snatches my wrist, but I’m already moving.

Ashwood House is under attack.