Page 12 of As Devils Love

My touch is met with another soft utterance, this time closer to a moan than just a garbled noise. I pull down the front of my mask and descend to her thighs, slowly stroking the length of my erection as I go. My lips make contact with her thighs, rousing another moan from Fiametta. This time it’s deeper and more guttural. It plays in my ears on repeat, long after she falls silent again.

Does she want this as much as I do?

Trailing kisses along the curvature of her body, I head for her core. Her soft skin caresses my cheek as I move, and it feels fucking amazing.

Then, before I can reach my destination, a cellphone starts to ring on her bedside table, and the sound pulls me away from my prize. It’s Lorenzo, no doubt calling to ensure his daughter’s safety, after hearing that two men wound up dead in the club where she was spending the evening.

This has got to be some wicked trick that fate is pulling on me. Icouldend it all here and be done with this whole ordeal, even if it pisses Matteo off that I’m working out of order. But I’m also being cock blocked by the man I’m trying to hurt.

Hmm, she definitely has an interesting effect on me. It’s the first time I’ve thought about my job since I saw her. As soon the distraction forces my dick to release control of my mind, my good sense returns.

What am I doing here?

Killing Fiametta Napoli isn’t just another paycheck. It’s also my opportunity to get revenge for what her cunt father did to my mom. I’m risking too much by rubbing my dick through my jeans like an amateur stalker hunting his first college slut.

Next to her phone, and illuminated by the still ringing screen, I see something vastly out of place in this modern, minimalist wasteland. It’s an obviously well-read hard copy of Jane Austen’sPride and Prejudice. I open the front cover, and instantly see the notes and questions Fiametta has scribbled in it over the years. Thumbing through the pages, I see more notes scribbled throughout. Certain sections are underlined and have sticky notes stuck to them. Others have a rudimentary color scheme highlighting the words. From my limited understanding of Fiametta’s system, red seems to have some meaning but not much, orange and yellow inch closer, and green holds the highest importance.

One line in particular has a combination of all Fiametta’s of various systems. It’s underlined with a ruler, unlike some of her sloppier work before it. It’s highlighted in green with brackets etched in pen to block it out from the rest of the text. It lies beneaththreesticky notes that are filled to the brim with her thoughts and feelings.

In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.

The first note is an analytical view of Darcy’s mindset. I read it, though the tedium makes my brain reject holding on to the information any longer than it must. The second is Fiametta fawning over the relationship Darcy and Elizabeth share.

It’s her final sticky note that gives me a deeper insight into her mind. It isn’t a rambling mess like the others, but focuses on one succinct point.

Can such a connection really exist?It reads.This purest form of love after rejection.

Interesting. None of these words can be about me. We only met a few hours ago. But they speak to me in a way I can’t rationalize. It’s as if Fiametta was given the gift of foresight and peered into the future to see me standing here, watching her sleep, while my own inner turmoil begins.

Out of everything I’ve come across, this old book has told me more about her than the environment she dwells in. She’s intelligent, a deep thinker, and she protects anything that holds meaning in her life.

With a final glance in Fiametta’s direction, I rise from the bed and head for the door. I leave her in the state I put her in, while want and reason battle in my head. Yes, she’s a target and my best shot at avenging my mother’s untimely death, but I also want to feel her tight pussy wrapped around my shaft.

I finish my inspection of her apartment, taking note of the entryways, exits, and places I can hide away in a pinch, if it ever comes to that. These are the important points Matteo’s notes couldn’t cover, and they’re the only ones that actually mean anything.

Once done, I reluctantly go back the way I came. I typically wouldn’t let a phone call scare me off, but for all I know, Lorenzo’s dispatched an army to check on his daughter.

I’ve had a taste of Fiametta Napoli, however short and not the way I really wanted.

And like a ravenous wolf tasting blood after a long period of starvation, I need more.

Chapter Four

FIAMETTA

What the hell happened last night?This waking thought permeates the thumping in my skull. My eyes strain to focus, as they open, and are relieved by the comforting sight of the familiarity of my bedroom.

Okay, good. At least I’m not in some stranger’s place with no memory of how I ended up there.

But what do you remember, Fiametta?

Dancing. Lots of dancing. Feeling the bass reverberate through my body and shake me to the bone. Jumping from one partner to the next, taking on all comers without question. And then…

Him.

Emerald eyes shining beneath the dim club lights. An incredible physique and strong hands he didn’t want to take off me. Surprisingly limber and graceful on his feet for someone so enormous. The firm pressure from his hips jabbing into me every time he swayed his hips.

My cheeks burn at that last thought.

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