Page 28 of Sins of the Son

I paused a moment and took a deep, calming breath. She was lashing out. This was what I wanted, what I needed, I reminded myself. It was all part of my plan. The only way I was going to get her to let down her walls and tell me what it was I had done to traumatize her so badly all those years ago was if I kept her challenged and off-balance.

You don’t break down walls with a light touch… you do it with great big stones.

Milana was not the type of woman to be swayed by soft words and soothing caresses.

Brute strength, sheer determination, and a tenacious will that outmatched hers were the only things she would respond to, the only things she would respect. I was certain of it.

The only way I was going to win was if I was more stubborn, more powerful, and more ruthless than her.

And make no mistake, in the end, I would win.

She would be mine.

When I finally entered the cool, dark interior of the house, she was standing near her suitcases, purse in hand.

There was a bright flush to her high cheekbones. Her chest rose and fell with each heavy, panicked breath she took. The movement pressed her breasts against the white silk of her blouse. I could just make out the barest glimpse of her white lace bra underneath.

Fuck, she really was the most gorgeous creature I had ever laid eyes on.

For harvest day at the winery today, everyone, including myself, had been dressed in their roughest attire, ready to get their hands dirty. Not my Milana. Despite spending all afternoon handing out grimy, leather work gloves and stepping around clods of soil and mud which fell from the bottoms of the grape baskets, she was dressed in a white blouse, a flowing black silk skirt that hugged her curves, and bright red heels, with lipstick to match.

She held her knockoff black alligator Gucci bag before her like a shield. “I don’t want your money. It was never meant as a serious request. I… I... shouldn’t have let it go this far. You need to just let me leave.”

I cocked my head to the side as I observed her. “Remind me to ask my Aunt Gabriella to bring you a real Gucci purse back from Rome the next time she comes to the villa. What color would you like?”

“I don’t want a fucking purse from you. I want nothing from you!”

I lifted my discarded wineglass off the kitchen island and drained the remaining contents. “You’re right. I’ll just tell her to bring one of every color.”

Milana stamped her foot. “Cesare, you’re not listening to me.”

Taking a deep breath, I carefully set the glass down and turned to her. Closing the distance between us swiftly, I snatched the purse from her grasp and tossed it across the room. “Oh, babygirl, make no mistake. I’m listening.”

She shifted her stance to stand behind one of her suitcases.

“I listened when you said you were going to leave without giving me the one week you promised to allow me to make amends for my sins of the past.” I grabbed a suitcase. Despite its weight, I lifted it high and threw it out of reach. It crashed against a sofa side table, destroying the sculpture on it.

Milana cried out and backed away.

I picked up her other suitcase and held it before my chest. “I listened when you threatened to use my money to fuck another man.” I threw that suitcase on top of the first one.

I stalked toward her as she backed away. Little did she know, I was directing her down the hallway which led to the bedrooms. “Believe me. I’m fucking listening. In fact, I’m trying very fucking hard to listen to both what you are and are not saying, otherwise I might get angry, and trust me, you don’t want to know what happens if I let my anger take over.”

I backed her into the spare bedroom.

Her head shifted left and right as she took in her surroundings and realization dawned.

I captured and held her gaze as I reached behind me to close and lock the door.

Her eyes widened. “What are you going to do?”

My shaft filled with blood as I watched her standing there. The soft, pale pink light from the setting sun gleamed through a nearby window, framing her body in a warm halo. She looked like an unholy Madonna, the very embodiment of sinful temptation. My cock hardened even further as I envisioned worshiping again at her altar.

The corner of my lips lifted. “Get on your knees.”

For one short, blessed second, we just stared at one another.

Then all hell broke loose.

---