Page 40 of Psycho

I don’t have a fucking answer to that question, because I don’t know. Her eyes become teary, and it’s too much to think about, so I revert back to the asshole I am.

“Say fucking thank you, Anastasia. It doesn’t matter why, if I can get someone to help her. Stop being an ungrateful bitch.”

She bristles at my words, and bites her thank you, before focusing on her meal.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ANASTASIA

I glance up from the book I found in the nightstand drawer, and find Massimo staring at me in the doorway, holding a shopping bag, and wearing a smirk. My gaze travels down his chest to the black swimming trunks he’s wearing, and eventually to his feet, before moving back up and meeting his eyes.

He may have been forged from the flames of hell, but he isn’t hard to look at. I just wish he didn’t know how gorgeous he is.

“Want to go swimming?”

I jump up off the bed, and can’t help the huge smile on my face.

“Please don’t be kidding.”

He holds his hand out, passing me the bag with an impassive expression.

“Let’s not make a big deal out of this, Anastasia. This doesn’t change things for you.”

I snatch the bag from his hands, and flash him a grin, as I bounce like a little girl on my toes.

“Thank you anyway, you big grump.”

Massimo shakes his head, and I spot him trying to hide a smile, as I run into the bathroom to change. I’m a little surprised he didn’t make me change in front of him, but I’m happy for the odd moment of decent behavior. I’m sure it won’t last, but I’ll take what I can get.

Opening the bag, I roll my eyes when I spot a skimpy bikini. Of course, Psycho would pick out one that’s blood red. After getting changed, I stare in the mirror, and decide I don’t look bad. It’s a simple two piece, no design, just the dark red color. The bottoms are a thong and I don’t love that, but I’ll deal with it for a few minutes of normalcy.

I throw my clothes into the hamper beside the shower, and open the door. Massimo’s gaze travels down my body slowly, before making its way back to my face. He drags his hand down his cheek, a heated expression on his face before he groans.

“Fuck.”

“Interesting choice of color,” I say dryly, as we walk down the spiral staircase to go to the pool.

“I told you. Red is my favorite color, and when I saw this, it reminded me of how pretty you are when you bleed for me.”

As we turn the corner and go to the French doors, he opens it for me.

“Does that mean you left your knife inside?”

He chuckles loudly, and I swear it’s the first genuine laugh I have heard come out of his mouth since we were kids. It’s deep, beautiful, and makes my heart skip a beat. It’s hard to reconcile the boy I knew with the man he has become, but it’s moments like this that I can see it. The Massimo that stole my heart is in there, somewhere.

“I don’t go anywhere without my knife, little lamb.”

He slides his thumb down my bare back, and I shiver from the contact. I bite back a moan when he sinks his teeth into my shoulder, but it escapes from my throat, when he licks away the pain. Dropping his hand to my ass cheek, he squeezes my bare flesh, hard.

Wrapping his arm around me, he pulls my back against his chest and slides his hand up the center of my body, until he reaches my throat. With a squeeze, he groans into my ear, his hot breath fanning over my skin, and causing more tingles, that I feel all the way to my feet.

“I want to punish you, little lamb.”

“For what?” I gasp out, both of us knowing I haven’t done a damn thing, other than what he has told me to.

“Mmm,” he murmurs, “For coming after my family, putting you in my house in the first place. For being so goddamn beautiful I can’t keep my fucking hands off you. Maybe for having such a tight pussy, that it feels like it was fucking made for my cock. So many reasons, pretty little lamb. I want to cut you, and watch you bleed, so bad it hurts. You should go get into the pool, before I do just that.”

As he releases his light grip on my throat, I turn to him, and spot the devilish smirk on his lips, ignoring the shiver running down my spine. I don’t move. I can’t. I’m trapped in his gaze, and the only thought in my head is that maybe I want to be punished.

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