Page 70 of Promise to Break

"Tell me," he repeats. "Don't be afraid." I look up at his chin, and he chuckles, pulling me higher up his body.

"I'm not scared of you," I say, and it's the wholehearted truth. I don't fear Killian Fierro. "I just don't know how I see myself or you. On the one hand, you are a monster. You don't care about others. You hurt them, make them feel small, and ignore them after you're finished with them."

"On the other hand…" he probes.

"Aren't you hurt by what I said?"

He shrugs. "It's the truth. Your truth. I accept it. I'm not a saint, and you're right. I am a monster. Tell me what else you think of me."

"It's that part of you who took everything from me. You just take whatever you want, even if it's something that isn't yours."

"You gave yourself to me willingly."

I shrug as he did. "I know, but I don't know why."

"Why did you give me, of all people, your virginity? And why do you think you liked everything I gave and took from you, or why did I come and take it from you in the first place?"

"All of those things. I should be with my sister right now, and you took me away. I never would have gone away and missed her giving birth for anyone else. But one word from you and I did. I don't recognize myself." I'm ashamed of this admission. He notices because he sees everything.

"It's because you don't know yourself. I think we established that already."

"Tell me something about you, something that nobody, not even the little people, are aware of."

His fingers play with my hair, and I let myself enjoy his brand of gentleness as well. "Like what?"

"Your name. It isn't Italian."

"It isn't."

"Why?" His fingers sliding through my hair aren't as relaxed as before.

"If you asked Franco, he'd tell you it's because he named me after an Irish friend he lost on the day of my birth."

"And if I ask you?"

"Then I'd tell you the truth." As his hand covers my sore ass, I melt into his touch and start moving on his cock. I can feel the piercing pressing against my clit. I'm sensitive. The pain has me moving slowly. A grunt from him entices me even more. My sore pussy soaks his pants with more of me. I don't know how I can still be wet for him, but I am.

"I did get the name of someone Irish, but he wasn't my father's friend. He was his enemy, and Franco killed him the day I came to this world. Franco was of the idea that my name would be a reminder of what was taken from them each time I came to kill one of them."

"That's fucked up."

"It's the way of the capo of the Italian mafia. He's cunning. Cruel. A king on his right to do as he pleases."

We don't speak for the longest time as he cups my buttcheeks and plays with them, making me move over his pants.

"Raven's dad isn't like that," I say, needing a distraction, or I'll let him fuck me no matter how sore I am.

"And how is he? What do you see when you look at Franco Fierro?"

"Is this a trick question?"

"Speak your mind. You're part of the Fierro family. Even if you don't see yourself as one. And I won't tattle on you. I hate him as much as any person can."

I believe he does, so I nod. "I see him as an excellent actor. He could charm the pope even while confessing all his sins. My father was a lot like Franco. All smiles to the people around him, but a true beast behind closed doors." Killian runs his hands over my back, and I take a moment to enjoy his gentle side. "I've never seen the real Franco. I know that without anyone having to tell me, and I don't trust him."

"Your father. You don't talk about him."

"I don't." Killian waits for me to elaborate, so I do. Fuck me, but I do. "You know that my mom was taken from him."

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