Chapter 10

Obliterate past memories.

***Andy***

 

His white dress shirt absorbs my tears while I find the strength to let the rest of my words flow. “Giordano knew Ricca was coming for him. The reason Giordano kept me alive is because Ricca would never come alone, he always had his three friends with him. They were all invited but none of the four wanted to go. My father even had a big fight with Ricca earlier because those four young men didn’t want to attend a sweet sixteen party. Invited or not…they wanted to play pool instead.” It’s crazy…a shaky breath flows over my lips at the memory. Such a rebellious act standing up against our dad like that. Stupid, boyish even, and yet it was the difference of being alive now. “Those guys were tight back then. My brother’s a born leader. That was also the night he unintentionally replaced our father’s name of the gang with his own. He made a statement, although it wasn’t needed. The syndicate gave him the name because everyone respected the boy who became a man that night. Everybody knew who Ricca ‘The Fox’ Dantano was ever since that day. He’s sneaky and his pouncing technique is flawless. When he kills, he grabs them by the throat and shakes the life right out of them. That or he just cuts them open and let their insides fall out. But if you ask him why he’s called the fox,”

“The thick tail,” Afon mutters, making me laugh because I know Ricca must have told him that.

“Yeah. That part does really well with the ladies.” I sigh. “He didn’t really need his three buddies that night to come rescue me. He did that all on his own while the other three took out the rats who supported the hostile takeover. Ricca still blames himself that he didn’t get to me in time. When he found me in the bathroom, a crumpled mess huddled in a corner, I was already,” swallowing hard, I whisper, “stitched up.”

It’s like the room is filling with ice, killing everything in its path. Silence. Dead silence to the point that I’m having doubts if either of us is still alive or not. I’m waiting. Waiting for him to push me away, be repulsed, curse, leave…anything. But instead he holds me tighter and nuzzles his face into my hair.

This gives me enough courage to spill the rest. “Two of Giordano’s men held me down while Giordano told me I would never be worthy. That no man would ever lay a hand on me, that he would make sure by shoving a wooden stake inside me, taking my virginity, and robbing me of giving myself to my future husband. With the hymen gone I could never present the bloody sheets. But Giordano wasn’t done. He knew Ricca was coming so he left him a message. Giordano sliced my thighs with a knife before he wrote message down on a piece of paper he wrapped in plastic…before he shoved it inside me and sewed my pussy shut, leaving the wounds on my thighs open and bleeding.”

“Andy,” Afon’s voice sounds strained. “Are all of those who were involved dead?”

“Yes.” I rub my cheek against the fabric that’s covering his solid chest. “Ricca hunted them all down within a matter of hours. He killed them all.”

“Good.” Afon releases a deep sigh and places a kiss on the top of my head. “Did you have a date in mind yet?”

“A date?” I ask confused.

“Our wedding, anima mia.” His husky chuckle makes my heart double in size.

“You still want to?”

His fingers tighten in my hair as he pulls my head back to lock his gaze with mine. “Now Andy, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t see you for who you are? My counterpart. You turned around, left that dark shit behind you, and became a fucking warrior.”

His words echo in my head. He’s not repulsed. He knows more than I’ve ever told anyone. When Ricca found me, brought me home, I was able to cut out the stitches myself using a mirror, tweezers and scissors. I threw away the piece of paper they shoved in there. I was so ashamed. I tried to hide it but everything got infected.

Ricca found out because I got very sick. He wanted to kill them all over again and swore to me right then and there that he wouldn’t allow an arranged marriage for me. Yet getting to know Afon, more like how he gets underneath my skin, I realize why Ricca signed a contract. Afon understands me. My counterpart.

“I will talk to Unique first because she’s made a sketch for me. Karma brought some fabric and I picked out one, so I would like to know when she can make my dress.”

His eyes flare before his lips crash against mine making me feel that I belong. The kiss starts out rough, needful, but soon enough he slows down and takes his time to explore my mouth with his tongue. Stroking, searching, tenderly letting his feelings flow.

Unrealistic, that’s what it is. I’ve seen the kind of fire that flames his eyes with fierceness and yet this man…this tenderness right now makes me feel adored.

He pulls back all too soon and places his forehead against mine. Both panting hard, we clearly need a moment to catch our breath. That is until he murmurs, “I need to kiss your…lips. Will you let me? Please, I need to taste you.”

A shiver runs through me at the sound of the desperation in his voice. With my mouth still tingling from our previous kiss, the answer is obvious. “Yes.”

And why is he even asking if he was the one initiating the first one? Holy shit. Is all my mind registers when my pants are ripped off and hit the floor, Afon balancing above me, his gaze locked with mine.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Didn’t expect my trick question, huh?”

“Obviously,” I pant, slowly calming myself, waiting for panic to set in.

Just like the last time he touched me there. I was expecting to be repulsed, my mind throwing me back to that night when I was sixteen...except it didn’t happen. The horrible memories never came. His touch is different, safe, exciting. And yet, I’m scared shitless.

I’m still wearing my shirt when Afon slides down and places his head against my lower belly. “I’d be just as happy if you let me place my head here for a few hours, Andy. I just need to be close.”

His arms slide underneath my legs until his hands grip my waist, as if he needs to ground himself. Eyes closed he releases a sigh that expels all his anger, or so his whole demeanor radiates he’s trying to relax. Reaching out, I let my fingers slide over his head, letting myself fall a little deeper in adoration for this man.

His breath is leaving a hot trail over my skin, making my pussy clench. A reaction that only he has managed to provoke. Like the last time when he had me cornered against the door. My heart beating fast, feeling wetness and tingles building. Something I’m itching, daring myself to experience and yet I don’t have the nerve to ask. Because…what if I freak out and he doesn’t want to stop?

Softly he places kisses on my skin while his eyes burn into mine, making me feel every single hair on his scruffy jaw, the air that rushes out between each kiss, it’s as if he’s bringing us closer to each other. Letting me feel, bringing my body alive, making me hand over the trust that allows me to open up to him.

Yet the air in my lungs freezes when his lips feather over my pussy. Eyes still connected, he covers my pussy completely with his mouth. The feel of his tongue searching, stroking. A moan leaves my throat and I helplessly pull him tighter against me. Shamelessly, I start to grind against his face, experiencing tingles of pleasure building rapidly.

His tongue is magical and then it happens. Impact. I throw my head back as my spine curls while I scream, “Afon.” Everything inside me shatters into a euphoric state of pleasure. A place where I feel every element of my body and the man between my legs who gives it to me.

Sagging back into the mattress I wait for my soul to slip back into my body because I for damn sure think that all the flashes of white was an outer body experience. “That was…I can barely recall, it’s…I have no words.”

“Open your eyes, anima mia,” Afon tells me, his voice filled with longing.

When I do I find out that he’s just inches away, his nose almost touching mine.

“Fucking special. My heart just nearly stopped when you fell apart underneath my touch,” he growls and scoops me up, only to twist us around so I’m now draped over his chest.

He’s staring at the ceiling, one hand is on the back of my head holding me close while the other is lovingly stroking my back. His heart is beating rapidly in my ear and when I shift I feel his arousal as a huge, very hard, reality between us. And yet he doesn’t make a move. He didn’t take that next step, he did what he said he would do. Well, except for overwhelming me with an orgasm.

That was most definitely something I never thought a man would be able to give me. The mere touch of a man brought me quite the opposite feelings, repulsion and more, and yet this man…this man was the first to obliterate past memories and replace them with new, precious, overwhelming pleasures.

Feeling utterly exhausted, I feel myself drift off, trying to push out one word he needs to hear. My gratitude for his persistence. For not giving up on the broken pieces I thought I was never able to heal by myself. For making me feel all woman in a man’s touch. “Thank you.”