Page 45 of Surrender

He only has eyes for me.

“Please, Daddy,” I say breathlessly, moaning when his grip on my hair tightens. “I want you.”

“Then stop fucking around,” Cristiano says, pulling me hard against his solid chest. His eyes go to Silvano. “Apologies,” he says, but his voice sounds like it’s being tortured from having to utter the words, “but this one is mine.”

Silvano sighs loudly. “Fine, fine. Fucking cockblocker. I’ll find somebody else for the night.” He starts to leave but pauses at the door. “Make sure to lock the door before you start anything. We wouldn’t want the guests to get an eyeful.”

Then he leaves, shutting the door behind him.

Cristiano releases me, only to shove me hard into the armchair. “Care to explain what the fuck that was all about, Fox?” he snarls.

Sure, I could explain all about what Silvano said that had me suspicious.

Or I could let Cristiano work his anger out on me.

“It was exactly what it looked like, Daddy,” I say, not even trying to sound contrite. “I was trying to have a bit of fun.”

“Fun, huh?” He gives me a nasty smile. “We’ll see if you’re still having fun when I’m finished with you.”

With that, he stalks to the door. For a second, I almost think he’s going to leave, but instead, the lock clicks as he turns it. He turns around to face me.

“Take your pants off, Fox. Right the fuck now.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CRISTIANO

I’m seeing red.

There’s barely even anything more than an outline of Fox, because everything is blood-red in my vision.

I have to close my eyes for a second, but the rustling of cloth tells me Fox is obeying, and that helps me start to regain my self-control. I am not the type to beat someone senseless for flirting with another man.

Oh, fuck it.

Apparently, I am, and I’m not sure what that says about me—but I don’t fucking care right now.

I open my eyes again, staring at Fox. Is he trying to tell me he’s not interested after all? That I’ve been wasting my time with him?

Maybe it’s all been some ruse, and he’s going to take my knife and shove it straight through my heart here and now.

But I don’t think that’s it at all.

“You just wanted my attention, didn’t you?” I ask, my voice strangled from barely suppressed anger. “Is that how you go about asking for attention, Fox?”

Fox sits down in the armchair, bare-assed, and spreads his legs. The shirttails partially cover his thighs, but his cock is full on display.

“How would you prefer, Daddy?” Fox asks, a small smile spreading across his lips. He reaches down to his uncaged cock—and I’m severely regretting not locking him up—and gives it a long stroke.

“You could use your fucking words like an adult,” I snap. “And not distract me in the middle of a fucking mob party. What do you think you’re doing? Here, of all places? And with Silvano?”

That makes it worse because I’ve always seen Silvano as a friend. I wouldn’t have thought he’d try to seduce Fox from under my nose—and he knows perfectly well I’m invested in Fox. The night at the club should’ve made that crystal clear.

“I wasn’t distracting you,” Fox says, voice rife with amusement. “I distracted Silvano. You could have kept talking with your Russians and Serbians and Pavones and Mancinis…”

“You’re supposed to be posing as my bodyguard, or did you forget that?” I say. Even though no one believes the guise, it’s better than admitting to the truth—whatever the truth may be.

My lover, my would-be assassin, my boy.

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