Page 8 of Sins of the Son

Her eyes were closed. Her cheeks were stained with tears.

I leaned to the side on my right forearm and looked down between us.

Blood.

Goddammit. I’d really fucked up.

I was too big.

I knew she was tight.

I should have been more careful, prepared her more fully for my cock, instead of taking her like a fucking animal.

My brow furrowed.

There was too much blood.

Madonna santa!

A virgin.

Milana was a virgin.

It had never even occurred to me she would be. I mean, we were both twenty-four. This wasn’t the Middle Ages, where women were expected to remain virgins until marriage.

My cock was still hard, deep inside of her.

I smoothed the hair back from her beautiful face. She was stunning, even when she cried. I leaned over her. “Milana, open your eyes.”

Her eyelids twitched but remained closed.

“Carissima, don’t make me ask you again.”

She opened her eyes slowly. Dark, beautiful eyes, framed with thick eyelashes.

Eyes as icy and hard as black diamonds.

I tilted my head to the side as I watched her closely. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

A cold tension settled over her face, as if she were raising a wall between us. With a rigid lack of expression, she said, “Because it was none of your business.”

None of my business.

She set the trap.

And I took the bait.

I snapped.

I leaned down until we were nose to nose. “My cock is deep inside your pussy. I’d say it is my fucking business.”

Her arm struck out to slap me. “Vaffanculo!”

I blocked her and wrestled her arm down to the mattress as she tried to writhe free and land her slap. “That’s it, baby. You want it rough? Let’s play rough.”

The damage was done. She was no longer a virgin. It was far too late to be gentle and sweet. Besides, delicate words and kisses had never been our style.

I reached for the open bodice of her dress and tore downward, ripping it off her body.

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