Page 61 of Sin & Secrets

“Shall I run you a bath?” she asks in that clipped English accent.

I groan a little in confirmation. Finally dozing off back in my own bed, I’ve woken up to find my body stiff all over. There’s no mystery as to why: Rocco’s methods in the bedroom leave no room for fragility.

It’s not something I ever thought I would enjoy, but when he pulled at my hair and squeezed at my neck, something feral came over me. It’s almost as if I subconsciously wanted to reclaim such sensations as purely pleasurable.

An interesting turn of events, but not one I care to think about too hard. Claudio barely lasted long enough to remember my own satisfaction, so it’s equally likely these tastes have always been a part of me.

“Do you have any plans for today?” Donatella drags me from my thoughts.

It’s become something of a routine since I’ve been staying here. Donatella will wake me with the offer of a bath, and we’ll make small talk until she’s bored enough to leave me to stew in the warm water alone. She always claims another errand needs her attention.

“I was thinking about staying in today, actually,” I reply sarcastically.

She doesn’t rise to the bait. “There is a great deal to watch on the television. Or else you could assist me in the kitchen if you wanted to do something more practical.”

“I think I’ll use the gym.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know!” I turn to her, somewhat annoyed by her pestering when I’ve had so little sleep.

She matches my glare with her own. “I am at your disposal. You can do anything you want while you’re here.”

“If you’re at my disposal, why don’t you leave me alone?” I snap back.

Donatella looks me over once. “Fine. I need to prepare breakfast.”

With that, she takes her leave.

I can’t help but feel like she’s judging me. Honestly, since coming here, I’ve found little motivation to do anything other than wallow in my own self-pity.

It’s pathetic, but after everything that happened with my father, then Claudio, and now Rocco, I’ve needed the time to collect myself. To figure out where this all leaves me.

I step out of the bath and immediately go to the closet to retrieve my gym wear. Exploring the contents of the walk-in closet had taken me an entire afternoon.

To my surprise, it is equipped with a fairly even split of both men's and women’s designs in a variety of different sizes. This makes a lot of sense, but I'm close to trying on everything it has to offer and it hasn’t even been a week.

Not that it really matters, as Donatella brings me back freshly washed and ironed clothing every morning.

The day passes dangerously slowly. My boredom peaks enough to feel the temptation to answer one of the thousands of messages Mia left on my phone.

But I ignore them. Claudio’s betrayal had been enough to shake my entire world to its core. If Mia is somehow in on this, if she knew about the mafia or is somehow even a part of it, I’m not sure what I will do.

What would I even say to her? “Oh yeah, remember that guy you told me to stay away from? We’re living together while he baits my ex into exposing someone in his elite mafia billionaire circle. Also, we’re fucking now, apparently.”

It’s just physical,he said. I tell myself that’s enough, that he’s right. That anything more would not only be very, very complicated, but likely incredibly dangerous, considering his line of work.

When I see him again the next day, it’s when I catch him walking down the corridor to his bedroom.

He looks at me for a moment, then jerks his head toward his bedroom door in invitation.

And it’s stupid and careless and only going to end in pain, but...I follow him inside.

When he touches me, it feels worth it. It feels like I’m finally able to escape this goddamn place. I feel alive and wanted, Worshiped by that tongue as he explores every part of me except my lips.

It becomes our own secret game. I meet him in his bedroom, or he approaches mine. I casually straddle him on the couch, or he bends me over the kitchen counter.

We don’t talk, we don’t need to. Our bodies respond to each other almost instantly, already frustrated and in need of release. It’s pure, mindless physical abandon.

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