Page 48 of Deceitful Oath

The irony of wanting to protect her while actively planning to kill her stops me in my tracks. I stand for a second, in the darkened hallway, wondering if this is what insanity feels like.

When I return, she’s curled herself into a tiny ball under the blanket. I toss my towel on the floor and climb in with her. She takes the ice gratefully and presses it to her cheek, the cold making her flinch.

“Carlo called you into this office and…?”

“He, I don’t know, he must have finally lost the plot. He accused me of lying to him, betraying him. Kept asking about some guy I’ve never heard of,” she stops, taking a breath. “Then he slapped me…hard.”

“I see that,” I grit out, tenderly stroking the bruised skin. “What guy was he asking about?”

“Ugh, I don’t know,” she chokes out, a sob sticking in her throat. “I already forgot his name. Raymond or Ralph or something.”

Odd. I scan my memory for any Raymonds or Ralphs that might run in the same circles as the Mancinis. It could be Ralph Barbieri, but his crew generally sticks to themselves and their illegal drug ring.

“He told me to get out and never come back,” she continues helplessly. “So, I guess I’m officially unemployed.”

The look in her eyes is so pained, so powerless, that all I can do is pull her closer and kiss her forehead. I stroke her hair, telling her that she’s safe, that I’ll take care of her. She finally relaxes into my arms, clinging to my body like it’s her life raft.

When she gazes up at me, I tenderly kiss her tears away.

She whimpers, pulling herself deeper into my embrace. Her body is hot on mine, her eyes searching mine for something. When I get to her lips, I lightly ghost over them, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

She slips her hand around the back of my head, pulling me in deeper, and kisses me.

“Lux, we don’t have to…” I trail off, her tongue replacing the words in my mouth. I pull back, gazing down at her. “I’m just trying to comfort you.”

“I know,” she sighs, tossing the ice on the bedside table and pulling off her sweatshirt. “I need you to comfort me everywhere, make me forget what happened. Please?”

Call me a weak man, but I can’t refuse her. I smile lightly, pulling her down on top of me. She traces my shoulders and arms with a delicate touch, and I do the same. When she kisses me, it’s not fire and desire and burning heat, like usual.

This feels different. I lean into the kiss, trying to figure it out. It’s wistful, sweet—like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Ibask in the feeling, my heart growing in my chest and filling with light.

Our touches remain tender as I slip off her sweatpants and she straddles my hips. I gaze up at her in wonder, the purple bruise making her look like some ancient warrior woman.

She glows with goodness and sweetness and all things wonderful—I can’t look away.

She tilts her head back, her mouth frozen in a delicious little O, as she slides down onto my hard length. The sensation is so intense I almost scream, but I choke out a moan instead.

“Hmm, so good,” she murmurs, grinding her hips slowly. I dig my fingers into her hips, urging her on, praying she won’t stop.

“That’s it, Luxy,” I growl softly, thrusting my hips up to meet her. “Don’t stop, baby.”

She slowly picks up the pace as I palm her breasts, playing with her nipples. Moaning and whispering my name, she rides me to her own rhythm and I revel in the pleasure.

“Dominic,” she moans, biting her lip. “I’m so close.”

“Good girl, show me how much you like it.”

Her eyes fly open, and she leans down, kissing me deeply, as she climaxes. The experience is so heady, so intense, I instantly join her. She drapes herself on top of me, breathing deeply, her body buzzing with pleasure.

I run my fingers up and down her spine, biting my tongue and forcing myself to keep the words inside.

I love her.

I can’t kill her, no matter what she did.

And I sure as hell can’t keep her.

Chapter Eighteen

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