Page 28 of Caruso
I don’t hesitate and in one sudden move, I knock back the alcohol, refusing to reveal my reaction to it. I’m guessing these men are waiting for that, to amuse themselves in my discomfort, bask in it in fact. They will relish placing me in impossible situations, and I will not allow myself to react to that.
As I slam the glass on the table by my side, I raise my eyes to Giorgio’s, noting the madness in his, and say nothing as we stare into one another’s eyes with the same cool, emotionless gaze.
“I think I just came in my pants.”
His low, husky response drives desire inside me as he knocks back his own whiskey and leans forward, surprising me by reaching out with a quick hand and grasping my face in his rough fingers. It hurts. His nails dig into my skin, and his eyes flash as his lips hover close to mineas he whispers, “When Matteo has finished with you, I’m next.”
Matteo growls, “Fuck you, Giorgio, don’t terrify the woman before we’ve even taken off.”
He grins and leans back in his seat, my face smarting from the pressure, and yet I refuse to show them how terrified I am right now.
I sense Tommaso’s distaste and guess he believes me to be a whore, nothing more, nothing less, and he takes his shot and slams the glass on the table beside him and huffs, “What’s taking so long?”
In answer to his question, the engines start up, and my heart now races for a different reason entirely. I’m now even more terrified. The helicopter was one thing, but this plane is another. Once again, I reveal nothing, and as we move, I count to one hundred in my mind. I can do this. This is what I came here for. Retribution, definitely, but more like solving a real threat to my safety. The trouble is, I’m not sure if I just jumped from the skillet into the fire because I have never felt so unsafe in my life.
Chapter Twelve
Matteo
Fuck Giorgio. I knew he’d want her. She’s everything that intrigues him. I have no doubt that when I’ve finished with her, he will take his turn. He’s a sadistic brute and kind of crazy, whereas Tommaso is the opposite. Sadistic for sure, but so deep inside his own head he rarely ventures out of it. Everything makes him angry. Even breathing it seems, and I wasn’t surprised at his disdain toward Taylor. He is attempting to distance himself from the fascination he has toward our new guest.
I know him so well, and his arrogance hides his yearning for something more. He likes to control, dominate and conquer, which is why he spends most evenings scanning the casino for a body to pound into that night. He uses our hotel like a personal harem, and the women who fall on his dick are under the illusion he is Prince Charming. They soon discover he’s more like the Prince of Darkness when he leaves them ruined on the floor ofthe hotel room, beaten up inside from his special brand of sexual intercourse. He attempts to drive the madness from his soul by wrecking another, and until he finds peace with himself, that will never change.
Then there’s me. The more stable of the brothers but the most frightening one of them all because control to me is of the mind and soul; the body comes as a bonus to that. I ruin their minds, play with their emotions and control the breath in their lungs. I demand full control over a person until there is no challenge left, and when Taylor fell into my sight, she was fucked. Three brothers equals three huge problems for her, and as we head to Oklahoma to set her free from one tyrant, she will be leaving with three even worse ones.
As soon as we are airborne, Tommaso snaps off his seatbelt and heads to the front of the cabin. He has a habit of bending the attendant over the galley counter and fucking her from behind to quell the boredom.
He makes no pretense of that, and Giorgio grins.
“I’ll be right back.”
As he leaves, I roll my eyes because he’s the sick bastard who likes to watch. He leans against the galley wall and enjoys an inflight show that isn’t on any screen in front of him.
I couldn’t give a fuck because it allows me time to play with Taylor’s mind a little further.
“I like the clothes on you, angel.”
She shrugs. “I would hope so; you chose them.”
Knowing she is naked under the catsuit is messing with my mind, and my balls ache as I picture herstanding in front of me in the heels, as I unzip the suit and let it fall to the floor later on.
Now that the image is in my mind, I can’t shake it, and against my better judgment, I unfasten the safety belt and say huskily, “I’ll give you a tour.”
“Excuse me.” Her eyes widen, and her hand flies to her belt, almost as if she’s afraid of falling if it comes off.
I smirk, “I’ll catch you if you fall.”
Her eyes flash as she unfastens it, a hint of uncertainty in her expression as she stands, wobbling on the heels that cause her to reach my shoulder.
I take her hand in mine, gripping it firmly as I lead her away from the galley toward the middle of the jet.
I explain, “The front of the plane is our private quarters. Our men occupy the rear. The bedroom and bathroom separate the two accommodations.”
“Bedroom?” She gasps. “There’s a bedroom on board?”
“Of course.“ I shrug. “Sometimes we take longer flights and must be refreshed on arrival. This one can be split into three courtesy of the room dividers.”
I open the door and as we walk inside, she stares in amazement. “It’s so big.”
