Page 23 of Bianchi

We’re both breathless as the room comes back into focus. The patter of the shower running in the background is a reminder of where we are. A light sheen of sweat covers my body and tingles erupt in the leg holding me up. It feels like an eternity before Romeo pulls out, and steps away from me. He turns the shower head onto himself and squeezes some shower gel into his hand, lathering it up before he runs them over his body.

I slump against the wall, still in the midst of my orgasmic afterglow, with a mind that can’t quite make sense of where I am or what just happened. As I’m sorting through my hazy thoughts and getting my breathless body back under control, a wetness that can’t be attributed to the shower slides down the inside of my thigh and my mouth drops open.

“Did you…” I clear my throat before trying again, unable to hide my shock. “Did you cum inside me?”

Romeo stands in front of me, suds from the shower gel covering his body as he holds my stare. He rinses off a hand before smoothing it down my stomach until he reaches the space between my legs.

He swipes a digit through my slit before bringing it up between us. Our combined release glistens on his finger, and I watch, mesmerized, as he takes it between his lips and sucks it clean.

His tongue darts out, swiping over his bottom lip. “It sure looks…” He pauses, holding my gaze with a heat that has my body yearning for more. “And tastes like it.”

I stand there, in a trance, as he walks out of the cubicle. His back is to me as he shakes his head and murmurs, “Fucking exquisite.”

My eyes track him as he grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist, completely unfazed. What the hell just happened? This has got to be a dream. A figment of my imagination.

It has to be.

“Use the shampoo and shower gel and get cleaned up, Aurora. I’ll leave some clothes on the bed and send Daniele to take you back to your room.”

His parting words slam me back to reality. I’ve been a fool to forget who it is I’m dealing with. I might have needed him for a moment, but not anymore. The less time I can spend with Romeo Bianchi, the better.

When I walk out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, my hair is clean and any traces of him on my body—and the people that died in front of me today—have been scrubbed away. Laid out on the bed—just like he said it would be—is a white oversized T-shirt. I pull it over my head just as Daniele knocks on the bedroom door.

With one last look around the luxury of Romeo’s bedroom, my bare feet pad silently across the carpet, and I swing the door open, ready to return to my new reality.

Chapter 13

Romeo

Cazzo!

What the hell was that? The events of the day have really messed with my head if I thought it was a good idea to fuck Aurora. Yes, it’s taken the edge off my frustration, replacing it with a lightness in my chest that only comes from having an explosive orgasm. But I can’t allow it to happen again.

Aurora is only here because of who her father is and what he’s done. And until I can rule out that she hasn’t been sending him smoke signals, she is my enemy.

I stride down the hallway, putting some much needed distance between us. Even now, having had a taste of her, I crave more. Exercising some discipline, I pull my phone from my pocket and open the text chain with Daniele.

Romeo

Finish up whatever you're doing and take Aurora back to the basement.

His response is almost immediate.

Daniele

I’ll be there in twenty.

It’s best for all parties involved if she stays locked in the basement. Considering what has gone down tonight, it’s safe to say that Francesco will be well aware of us by now. Besides, Aurora will be safe in that room.

Safe from who, exactly?

I stalk through the house in search of Massimo, coming up empty as I enter the kitchen. Our conversation remains unfinished, as far as I’m concerned. I won’t rest until we find out who the fuck thought they’d be smart enough to take us on.

Massimo’s moved to his office and when I enter, he’s standing behind his desk, discussing something with Leonardo. I take a seat and Massimo lifts an eyebrow in question. We both know that there will be no apologies from me for my outburst earlier. They are for weak-minded men who can’t stand behind their actions.

He straightens, readjusting his belt buckle before dropping into his chair. The look on his face is all my cousin, without a hint of my subordinate. It’s reinforced when he asks, “Have you taken the edge off?”

Not even a little.

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