My life was no longer the same.

I was back in my apartment, but the four walls that surrounded me didn’t make me feel safe anymore. Knuckles had broken in and smacked me around, and now a viler man had turned me into a prisoner in my own home.

What the hell was I going to do?

I’d witnessed this man’s savage ways, and I knew he wanted nothing more than to torture my parents and kill them. The only thing stopping him was his obsession with my pussy. I wanted to protect my family by keeping my mouth shut, but if they knew my freedom had been stripped away like this, they would be devastated.

I only had one choice.

I had to kill Bones myself.

I could get a gun from my father. All I had to do was say I wanted it for protection. He’d always encouraged me to have one for safety, but I always insisted I didn’t need one.

Looks like I was wrong about that.

I had knives, but stabbing Bones wouldn’t be so easy. He was a huge man. It would be easy to miss, especially when I was that close to him.

My only option was a gun.

After he dropped me off, he left. He said he had work to do, and he would be gone for a few days. But before he left, he inserted a tracker into my ankle. That way he could see where I was at all times.

I fought him hard when he pushed the needle into my skin, but there was no use. He was too strong.

He was the strongest man I’d ever encountered.

Definitely stronger than my father and my uncle. Even stronger than Conway and Carter.

Fuck, how did I get into this?

I tried to keep calm by remembering Bones didn’t kill me. I could be dead and that video sent to my parents. I escaped that threat, so I had something to be thankful for. Not all hope was lost.

I would find a way out of this.

Because I was a Barsetti—and Barsettis don’t give up.

I missed nearly a whole week of school because Bones had me hidden away, and the day I finally went to class was the last one before school ended for the winter break. Christmas was around the corner, and I hadn’t even considered shopping.

I was broke anyway.

I usually made things for my family, and hopefully, I had enough time to pull something together. The painting I’d been working on for class was never finished, so I wrapped it up and carried it home through the snow.

I returned to the warmth of my apartment and set it on the easel. I bought some other supplies, so I could do some artwork during my break. I considered making a painting for my whole family, an image of us gathered together for the holidays. But if I were to finish it, I would have to start now.

I set my things down and then heard my phone ring.

It was my mom.

I hadn’t spoken to her since Bones captured me. She had no idea what I’d been through. I had to hide it from her, but she could usually tell when I was trying to hide something. And now that I knew what had happened to her, I’d have to keep that bottled up too.

Every time I thought about what happened to her, I wanted to cry.

My mama.

I cleared my throat then answered the phone. “Hey, Mama.”

“Hey, Vanessa. How are things? I’m sorry I haven’t called sooner. We’ve just been busy with the house.”

“No big deal. I know you guys are busy. Getting ready for Christmas?”

“Yep. Your father hung up the lights and everything is looking nice. Lars can’t get around as easily as he used to, so we’re working together to get the house in shape. Aunt Adelina’s parents are coming too, so we want them to feel welcome.”

“Oh great. I love seeing them.” I sat on the couch, thinking about the small tracker planted inside my ankle.

“So when are you coming home?”

“Probably in a few days. I need to finish up some stuff around here.”

“How did the end of your semester go?”

“Great.” I missed the last few days and took my finals without studying…so I hoped I passed. It didn’t really matter if I didn’t. “Just glad it’s over.”

“Your father and I figured you were busy. I remember how that used to be.”

“Yeah, a million years ago,” I teased.

“Oh, shut up,” she said with a laugh. “I’m not that old.”

“You certainly don’t look it.”

“That’s much better. Well, I’ll let you go. Love you, sweetheart.”

It killed me that I couldn’t tell her what was really going on in my life, that I had been trapped with the biggest enemy to our family. But if I said anything and he found out about it, he would strike them first before they had a chance to do anything in retaliation. And I wanted to tell her that I knew what happened to her…and that I was there if she ever wanted to talk about it. But I kept my mouth shut. “Love you too, Mama.”

I painted all day by the light of the window, and when it turned dark, I went out with a few friends to the bars. I saw a lot of good-looking guys, and a few even made passes at me, but knowing I was in a twisted situation made me blow them off.

They shouldn’t get involved with me.

I went home before midnight, slipped off my heels by the door, and then headed to my bedroom in my cocktail dress. Bones had been gone for three days. I didn’t hear anything from him, and I wasn’t sure when he would stop by.

I didn’t want to see his face, not ever again, but I did notice the changes in my body.

The changes in my hormones.

I was wet every night and every morning, and my mind drifted back to the memories I had of him. I might despise him for the monster he was, but there was no denying my body craved his.

I missed that good sex every morning and every night.

I’d never been in a long-term relationship before, so having sex with the same person at regular intervals was new to me. I hooked up with my other boyfriends whenever the time arose, but we didn’t shack up together for days on end.

The shame killed me.

How could I want a man who held a knife to my throat? Who kidnapped me for days? Who wanted to kill my family?

I knew it was just physical, and if I could kill him I would, but that didn’t make me feel better about it.

Only worse.

I was just about to peel off my dress and get ready for bed when I heard the front door. It opened and shut casually, like someone had every right to walk into my apartment like they owned it.

I knew it was him.

The door was locked, but he obviously had a key. A key I never gave to him.

I stilled in my bedroom, holding my breath as I listened to his footsteps on the hardwood floor. The steps became louder as he migrated to the bedroom. The sound indicated his heavy mass, his thick presence as he filled the apartment.

I didn’t turn around to face the door, knowing he was standing there staring at me. I could feel his crystal-blue eyes pierce through my body. He was staring at me up and down, looking at my frame in the tight black dress. My breathing halted because I could feel him, and with anticipation, I felt him come closer to me.

His footsteps were light, but he was so close I could hear everything.

Then I smelled his scent of snow, pine, and cologne mixed together.

I felt his heat afterward, his desire. He didn’t need to touch me to express his intentions. I could feel his arousal like I was standing next to a raging fire.

He finally closed the space between us by pressing his chest against my back. His lips moved to my ear, and his hands glided down my body, starting at my waist and sliding down my thighs. He reached the end of the dress then balled it in his fingertips, gathering it up until he slowly pulled it over my ass, revealing my cheeks in my thong. He left the dress at my waistline and breathed directly into my ear. “Fuck, I missed you.”

I closed my eyes and held my breath, feeling my body immediately betray me the second his hands were on me. My nipples hardened in the dress, and I imagined the monster standing behind me, picturing the way he looked as he held me in his arms.

His hand snaked around my waist and down my belly. He aimed for my panty line, and once he slipped inside the fabric, he kept going until he reached my clit. He rubbed it just the way he did before, doing it better than I did when I was alone. He used two fingers to rub me good, forcing me to breathe deeply as I enjoyed the pleasure. His fingers picked up the arousal oozing from my cunt, the wetness that was already there before he walked in the door.

But he knew it was for him. “You missed me too…”

Shame was still in my blood, but the arousal was much stronger. Now all I could think about was that big dick deep inside me. I went out to the bars hoping to meet a nice guy to have a fun evening with, but in the back of my mind, I knew I wanted sex like this.

Sex with this monster.

He gripped the back of my panties and pulled them down my ass as his fingers continued to rub me. He kept going until he moved to his knees and pulled them the rest of the way. His lips brushed against my legs on the way down.

I opened my eyes and gripped his shoulder for balance as he helped me out of my thong.

When he rose to his feet, he lifted me with him. Like I was lighter than air, he carried me to bed. He set me down, leaving my dress on and bunched around my waist. He stood at the foot of my bed and pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing his chiseled physique along with all his ink. “Spread your legs.”

My knees were pressed together, not out of rejection, but because it was the automatic position I took once I was on the bed. I kept my thighs pressed tightly together as I stared at him, watching him move to his jeans next. I was so wet for him that I could feel the moisture smear across the inside of my thighs. I simply did it out of defiance, wishing I didn’t feel this way about a man so evil.

“Don’t make me ask you again.” He undid his jeans and pushed them down with his boxers, revealing his fat cock. He was already oozing from the crown, just the way I was oozing for him all over my bed.

My legs finally came away, opening.

“Farther.”

I parted my ankles wider and pulled my knees back, making my body completely open to him. He could see all the details of my pussy, see the way my arousal gleamed in the lamplight. I held myself up on my elbows, self-conscious about my position but also turned on by the way he stared at me.

Like he’d never seen anything sexier in his life.

He grabbed his shaft and stroked himself with his fingers, pumping himself as one knee hit the bed. The entire mattress shifted under his weight. His muscled thighs bulged with his movements, and the rest of his muscles tightened as he came closer to me on the bed, his dick hard and ready to go.

Instead of shoving his dick inside me and fucking me right away, he held himself at my knees, his face above my pussy. “How do you want me to fuck you, baby?”

I didn’t give a damn right now. All I knew was I wanted him inside me as quickly as possible. I hadn’t had a climax in three days, and I was used to having two every single day. Regardless of what position he took me in, he would make me come. I had complete faith that this man would deliver every single time he was inside me.

He was right. He did raise my standards for all men. I could have found someone else tonight, but I didn’t want to gamble on the possibility of fucking someone without getting off. But with Bones, I knew he would always make me come so damn hard.

My hands gripped his shoulders. “I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do.” He moved his face closer to mine, getting close enough that he could kiss me if he wanted to. “Tell me. Tell me how you’ve wanted me to fuck you for the past three days. Tell me how I can satisfy this wet pussy. Tell me what I can do to be worthy of fucking a woman like you.”

My thighs automatically wanted to squeeze together in response because his words turned me on even more. He wasn’t just anxious to fuck me, but anxious to make me feel good too. He wanted my pussy to tighten around his dick. He wanted the power and the pride. He wanted to keep the reputation he earned—of being a man and not a boy.

“Baby, tell me.”

I didn’t even care that he called me baby right now. “With your arms locked behind my knees…and your dick as deep as possible…with your lips on mine.”

“Slow or hard?”

“So fucking hard.”

He moaned then did the unexpected. He relaxed his body on the mattress and then pressed his face between my legs. His mouth immediately began to devour me, kissing me the way only a few men had before.

My head rolled back, and my thighs automatically came together, but his hands locked me in place. He sucked my clit hard then circled it with his big tongue. He kissed my pussy just the way he kissed my lips, with full possession and obsession.

I was writhing and aching, so close to climaxing already. “Yes…” I felt the burn deep inside my stomach as it inched toward the apex of my thighs. I was going to come, going to explode.

He abruptly pulled away then crawled on top of me.

“Ugh…”

“Don’t worry, baby. I never disappoint you, right?”

“No…”

He locked his arms behind my knees just as I asked and leaned over me, his throbbing cock ready to slam inside me. But he paused, as if he were waiting for something.

I clawed at his forearms. “What?”

“Tell me to fuck you.”

If I weren’t in this sex-crazed fog, I would have told him to fuck off. But my mind was completely lost in the arousal. I wanted his cock inside me. I wanted his kiss on my lips. My body told him exactly what I wanted, but the fact that he was making me say it made it more real. I grabbed his hips and pulled him toward me.

He resisted me. “Say it, baby.”

I was still on the verge of coming. I could feel the explosion bubbling between my legs. I grew frustrated waiting. “Shut up and fuck me.”

“Please.”

I lost my temper and slapped him across the face. “No, asshole. I’m not going to say please. Now fuck me and be appreciative of the fact that you even get to fuck me.”

His face moved with the hit, so he slowly turned his face back toward me. His cheek was red because I hit him so hard, but the malicious grin showed the opposite of anger. It seemed to turn him on more, even amuse him. “That’s my baby…” He finally shoved his cock into me and slid all the way inside in one swift motion.

“Yes…” My nails dug into his back, and I moaned once I felt that enormous dick stretch me apart. My head moved back to the pillow, and I yanked his face down to mine so I could finally kiss him.

He kissed me hard, his lips tasting like my arousal.

My nails dragged down his back to his ass, and I pulled him deeper inside me, moaning at the same time.

He gave me his tongue, his passion, and everything else. He thrust hard with his hips, taking me more aggressively than usual. I was so soaked that his dick fit inside even better than it ever had before. “Fuck…yes.”

I already hit my threshold. I wanted to come before he was even inside me, and now I did with an explosive pulse. Like a shattered star, I came apart into a million pieces. It was so good I thought I might black out in the middle of it. I got tight around his dick, and my nails left trails everywhere they’d been on his skin. I flooded him with more arousal and screamed directly into his mouth, drowning in the pleasure he gave me.

He kept going hard even when I was finished. “See the difference?” he said through his heavy breathing. “This is what it’s like to fuck a man, baby. And now you’ll never want to fuck another boy again.”

I already came, but I knew I was going to come again. I could already feel the arousal building up between my legs. It was a new sensation, something I never felt before. I’d heard about multiple orgasms but never had one in reality. “Yes…fuck me.”

He pressed his forehead to mine and hit me deeper. “I’m the only man who is man enough to fuck a woman like you.”

I woke up the next morning in exactly what I was wearing the night before. My dress was still pulled up to my waist, and my panties were on the other side of the room. I didn’t sleep under the covers because Bones was warm enough to keep me comfortable throughout the night.

As my eyes opened, the night before came back to me.

We fucked so damn hard.

God, it was so good.

But so fucking bad.

He was naked beside me, a behemoth more than a man. His chest rose and fell at a steady rate, his black ink slightly messed up in the various places he’d been shot or stabbed. I examined them in more detail while he slept, never noticing them before because I never had the chance.

He was usually awake before I was.

I counted three stab wounds and four bullet holes.

Jesus.

He woke up shortly afterward, his cock already hard against his stomach. He had a serious case of morning wood—and he had it every single day. He opened his eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling. It seemed to take him a second to remember where he was.

To remember last night.

He slowly turned toward me, a slight grin on his face.

He was definitely thinking of last night.

I refused to blush. I refused to show weakness. Even though that usually made him want me more.

“Your bed is comfortable.”

“Thanks. Sorry it’s a queen.”

“When you sleep on me like this, it doesn’t make a difference.” He rolled on top of me, and like every morning when I stayed with him, he pointed his cock at my entrance and slid inside me.

I missed morning sex. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I started to wake up horny every morning.

Like every other time, it was slow because we were both waking up still. Still slightly asleep, our sensations were heightened. Everything felt so much better, more intense. His hand slid into my hair, and he kept me in place as his hips thrust into me.

I came shortly afterward, coming around his dick while his seed was still inside me from the night before.

He came immediately afterward, like he was just waiting for me to finish so he could release himself. He stayed inside me until his cock started to soften. Then he got out of bed. “I’m getting in the shower. I want breakfast when I’m done.”

And just like that, the comfortable moment we just had was shattered. “Excuse me?”

He stood by the bed, over six feet of all muscle. “You heard me.”

“I’m not cooking for you.”

His eyes narrowed. “I cooked for you every day when you stayed with me.”

“Uh, no, you didn’t.”

“I’m the one who paid to have it prepared.”

“Asshole, I don’t cook. I can barely make eggs. The only thing I can do is make coffee—because I have a coffee machine.”

“Then what do you eat every morning?”

“Coffee.”

“And?” he pressed.

“And coffee,” I repeated.

“When do you eat real food?”

“Lunch time.”

“And what do you have then?”

“I pick up something. Same with dinner.”

He grabbed his t-shirt from the floor then pulled it over his head. “Then let’s go out for breakfast.”

I laughed because it was ridiculous. “Yeah, okay…”

He stared me down, his pretty eyes no longer so beautiful. “I’m serious.”

“You want to go out in public?” I asked incredulously. “Together?”

“Yes. Now, put something on. But I don’t mind if you want to go out like that.” He nodded to my dress. “Let the whole world know I fucked you last night. Works for me.” He stepped into my bathroom then turned on the faucet.

I couldn’t believe I was going out into the real world with this guy.

With this monster.

We went to a café down the street from my house. The snow had melted with the sun, but there were still patches of it everywhere. We sat inside by the windows, which were frosted by the corners because it was so cold outside.

A steaming cup of coffee was in front of him. He drank it black, his muscled forearms resting on the table.

I hardly touched mine, still in shock this was really happening.

The waitress brought our food a second later. Bones had a huge breakfast all to himself with lots of bacon and carbs.

I had a few eggs and a piece of toast.

He started to eat, scarfing everything down.

I glanced around the restaurant, wondering if there was anyone who recognized me. Thankfully, there wasn’t.

“Ashamed of me?” he asked, catching on to my movements.

“No.” I picked up my fork. “Just ashamed to be seen with you.”

He grinned before he took another bite. “I used your toothbrush this morning.”

“You what?” I blurted.

“Yep.” He drank his coffee then set it down.

“Gross.”

“I eat your pussy then kiss you and you’re fine with that, but sharing a toothbrush is drawing the line?” He spoke at his normal voice level, so everyone could overhear if they were paying attention.

“Shut up.”

He grinned wider. “If it bothers you that much, pick me up a toothbrush.”

“I’m not welcoming you into my home.”

“Just your bed?”

My eyes narrowed.

He took another bite, still wearing that arrogant grin. “Let’s stop pretending this isn’t consensual. You went out last night, hit a few bars, and went home alone. A woman like you doesn’t go home alone unless she wants to be alone.”

“You’re drawing stupid conclusions.”

“Or I’m being completely logical. You could have taken home any guy you wanted, but you didn’t. You went home and missed me.”

“What makes you think I didn’t take anyone home?” I countered. “Maybe he already left.”

Bones chuckled. “If the guy already left, then that would explain why you were so happy to see me…”

I almost chucked my fork at his head. “Fuck you. You aren’t the king of the world.”

“Just the king of your—”

“Stop it.”

He heeded my warning, still grinning, and then went back to eating. “Alright, baby. You get so sexy when you’re mad, it’s hard for me to play nice.”

I bit into my toast even though I’d lost my appetite. “My brother keeps an eye on me. You better hope he doesn’t see us.”

“Wouldn’t care if he did. Actually, that would be delightful.” He drank his coffee again before he returned to eating. “And now that he’s got a kid on the way, I’m sure he’s got more important things to worry about than his sister.”

He really did know everything. “Doesn’t matter how many kids he has. He’d die for me. And I’d die for him.”

“Cute,” he said sarcastically. “And I may just end up killing both of you.”

“Can we not talk about stuff like that right now?” I asked, lowering my gaze to my food. Christmas was just a few days away, and I would spend it with my family, trying to pretend everything was perfectly normal.

Bones didn’t say anything else as he ate in silence.

The silence was so damn nice. I preferred him when we were fucking. The sex was good, and he didn’t talk. If he did talk, he said things I liked to listen to. But when the hormones were gone, he reminded me of how vile he was.

And the fact that I had to kill him.

“Where were you?” I asked in an attempt to make conversation.

“Why? Miss me?”

“If I just say yes, will you answer the question?” I asked sarcastically.

“No. You already proved how much you missed me last night.” He wiped his plate clean, his eggs, bacon, and pancakes long gone. “I had a hit in Switzerland. It’s been taken care of.”

“A hit?” I asked.

“That’s what I do for a living—kill people.”

“You’re an assassin?” I asked coldly.

“I wouldn’t call myself that.” He kept one hand on his mug, comfortable talking about this sort of thing in a crowded restaurant. “A hitman is a better description. People commission me to do their dirty work.”

“And you just kill people?” I said harshly. “Without a single thought to who they are.”

“You really shouldn’t judge me, baby.”

“Too late,” I snapped. “That’s disgusting and wrong.”

“Then you must think your uncle is disgusting and wrong.”

I lost my confidence, shaken by what he said.

He knew he’d successfully planted some doubt. “It’s how I survive, and I’m not ashamed of it.”

“You should be. And my uncle would never do that.”

“Maybe not now, but he did when he was your age. He worked for the Skull Kings. He was a Skull King. And he murdered all kinds of people.”

Uncle Cane was a good man who had been another father to me. He was affectionate, kind, and never showed a hint of violence. “No, he didn’t.”

“Don’t believe me?” he asked. “Ask him.”

“I don’t need to.”

He grinned. “Because you know I’m right.”

“That’s not why.”

“Yes, baby. It is.”

I stared into my mug, feeling my heart beat so fast. I knew my parents had criminal ties, but they wouldn’t kill people for money.

“And your brother and cousin aren’t as honorable as you think they are. They go to the Underground where women are for sale and they—”

“Don’t. Talk. About. My. Family.” I grabbed the butter knife even though there was very little I could do with it. “I have every right to hate your father, but I’ve never said a bad thing about him. You told me about your mother, but I’ve been nothing but respectful toward her memory. My family is everything to me, and I don’t give a damn who you are, don’t speak of them that way. I’ll stab this knife in your neck right now if that gets you to shut up.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes full of intensity. He didn’t smile like he usually did when I stood up to him. My words seemed to actually mean something to him this time. “I wasn’t speaking badly about them. Believe it or not, I’m actually relaying facts to you.”

I slammed the knife down, right into the center of his forearm.

Like he’d anticipated it, he moved out of the way just in time.

The knife was stuck in the wood because it pierced it so deep.

People glanced at us from their tables, hearing the loud sound. After a few seconds of silence, they looked away.

Bones yanked the knife out of the table and put it to the side. “I’m gonna let that one go this time. But pull something like that again, and I’ll do the exact same thing back to you. So if you make a move, you better kill me.”

I stared him down with the same cold expression he gave me. “Oh, I will.”

We returned to the apartment, but I just wanted him to leave.

“Go.” I pulled off my jacket and hung it by the door. I yanked off my gloves next and stepped into my living room. “I’m sure you have someone else to kill.”

He hung his jacket by the door next to mine, like he wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon. “There’s always someone to kill, but I work too much as it is.” He walked to my easel by the window and admired the painting I was working on. I was recreating a picture my family took last year at Christmas. We were gathered around the grand dining table, a large roasted turkey in the middle along with the rest of the feast. Red candles were all around, and everyone I knew and loved was gathered together. It was difficult to paint because there was a lot of detail in the piece.

Our conversation at breakfast was horrid, and I had no interest in continuing it. If he said anything, I’d grab that kitchen knife out of my fridge and go for it.

He stared at the unfinished painting and the actual photograph sitting in the corner. He stood with his back to me for a long time, admiring it quietly.

I waited for him to unleash an insult, to bully my family or my artistic skills.

But an insult never came. “You made this?”

I looked up from my spot on the couch, my arms crossed over my chest. “Yes. I’m painting it for my family for Christmas. Since I’m broke, I try to make them things. Maybe when I start making money in a few years I’ll actually start buying them nice things.”

“Why would they want you to buy them something when this is priceless?”

He sounded serious, but I wasn’t sure if he was being sincere. Anytime the subject of my family came up, he was harsh and rude. Seeing my happy family gathered around for the holiday would just infuriate him more. “I can’t tell if you’re joking…”

He turned around, showing me his dead serious expression.

Okay, maybe he was being serious.

“It’s amazing, Vanessa.” He hardly ever said my first name. It was usually baby. I’d gotten so used to the nickname that my real name sounded strange coming from his lips. He picked up the painting from the easel then carried it to the couch. He sat beside me as he examined it. The light from the window flooded the room, giving light to the piece. “So much detail. And their faces…look so lifelike. It’s only halfway finished, and it already looks like a masterpiece.”

Bones always said things I didn’t want to hear, so it was unlike him to flatter me just because. He could have not said anything about the painting at all and just sat down. But he seemed genuinely invested in what he was looking at.

I shouldn’t care about his opinion, but it meant a lot to me. “Thanks…”

“You don’t need to go to school. You are a painter.”

“I don’t know about that…”

“I do.” He stared at it longer then looked at the picture in the corner. “It looks just like the photograph. Was that last year?”

“Yeah.”

“Your parents didn’t buy your other paintings out of pity. They did it because you’re fucking talented.”

I lowered my gaze, unable to meet his look for the first time.

“Baby, I’m being honest.” He carried the painting back to the easel. He looked at it for another moment before he turned back to me. “Do you have any others?”

“I have one that I finished during the semester. It’s the one I told you about.”

“Can I see it?”

He just told me he liked my painting, but I was still nervous to show him my next one. I wasn’t a shy woman who let people’s opinions affect my life. I didn’t care what anyone thought of me, only what I thought of myself. “Sure…” I retrieved it from the closet and handed it over.

He examined it with the same interest as the previous one. He set it on his knees and gripped it with his hands, looking at my parents standing in the vineyards with the three-story villa in the background. It was a stunning picture of Tuscany, the wonderful place where I spent my childhood. I’d intended to sell this piece, but I liked it so much that I might keep it for myself. My parents were role models to me, had done so much for me. One day, they would be gone, but I would have this memory of them forever.

“I like this one too.”

I sat beside him on the couch, staring at his chiseled forearms as he held the canvas. It must annoy him to stare at an image of my parents, the people who survived the blood war and lived happily ever after. But he didn’t show it this time. “Thanks…”

“What else do you paint?” He set it down and leaned it against the table.

“It’s usually people on landscapes. Only Italy, since I’ve never been anywhere else. But the people of this country love and appreciate their land. Maybe I’ll travel around the country and paint different places every summer, like Lake Como, Siena, and other places that people adore. And then I can put them in my gallery and hope someone buys them.”

“Someone will buy them,” he said. “And I think that’s a great idea. Why don’t you open this gallery now?”

“I don’t have the money, for starters. And two, I don’t have any paintings to sell.”

“You have this one.” He nodded to the paintings on the ground. “That painting could clear twenty thousand euros.”

I laughed hard because the sum was ridiculous.

He kept a straight face, staring me down coldly. “I’m being serious. People pay good money for art like that. Maybe you can get even more for it.”

“I appreciate you being nice to me for a change, but I’m an amateur. I’m not at that level.”

His eyes narrowed aggressively. “One of the things I respect about you is your self-worth. You never underestimate yourself and have warned me not to do it either. You’re smart, resourceful, and spunky. You’re confident but never arrogant. You stand on that fine line and keep your balance. It’s hard for me to listen to you talk about yourself like that because it’s out of character for you. And frankly, it makes me respect you less.”

Now my eyes narrowed in hostility. “I appreciate that you think my paintings are good, but you aren’t an expert. You’re a bigger amateur than I am. Art is much more complicated than people think it is.”

“I’m a customer, and I’m telling you, I’d pay big money for something like this.”

“If you weren’t sleeping with me, you wouldn’t think twice about my paintings,” I countered. “You’re blind.”

“Maybe,” he said. “But if you were standing in that gallery, beautiful and fiery, people would start pouring in—men and women. It’s annoying to hear you make up excuse after excuse instead of just going for it.”

“Annoying?” I snapped. “Excuses? I need more training before I break off on my own. Only stupid, arrogant people think they know it all—people like you. And that’s their downfall.”

“You’re wasting your money. There’s nothing they’re teaching you that you don’t already know.”

“You wouldn’t know.”

“Yes.” He nodded at the painting. “It’s pretty fucking clear. Drop out and save your money. Use that cash to open a gallery.”

I was embarrassed to say this next part, but I couldn’t lie about the truth. “My father pays for my education…” He paid for this apartment and all my food. I was dependent on him, and I didn’t like it.

“Then save him money by leaving. Start painting full time. And start selling it. Sell it on the street if you have to.”

“Because that’s classy…”

“Doesn’t your family have a winery?” he asked. “Why don’t you display your artwork there?”

It wasn’t a bad idea, especially on the weekends in the summer when the tourists flocked to the wine tastings. But hearing him pressure me into these things made me think of something else. “That plan doesn’t work if you kill me and my family. Do you make all your prisoners ambitious? Is that part of your torture?”

He stared forward and looked at the painting on the ground, the muscles near his jaw slightly shifting under the skin as he squared his mouth. His large shoulders shifted forward as he rested his elbows on his knees. His size destroyed the cushion he was sitting on, making it sink just the way he did with my mattress. “There’s still the possibility you may kill me first. I know my baby, and I know you won’t give up until I’m dead—and I expect nothing less.”

It was the strangest thing.

Bones lay on the couch, his full length reaching from top to bottom. His feet even hung over the edge a bit. Just in his boxers, he was mostly naked.

I lay on top of him because there was nowhere else to lie. I was in my panties because that was the only thing he allowed me to put on after he fucked me on my bed. A blanket was pulled over my body to keep me warm, but Bones didn’t need the warmth because he was his own furnace.

The TV was on, and we watched it together.

Like a couple.

One hand was propped under his head while the other rested on the small of my back.

I didn’t know when he was leaving, but it didn’t seem like it was anytime soon.

I had to leave for Tuscany tomorrow. That way, I would be there by Christmas Eve. I should have left sooner, but his unexpected visit caught me off guard. I figured he’d have to get back home or to work, but he continued to linger.

I propped myself up on his chest, my forearms resting against his hard abs, and looked down at him. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

He turned his gaze away from the TV and looked at me. “Where are you going?”

I didn’t like being questioned, like I was reporting to him. “Home for Christmas.”

“Christmas isn’t for a few days.”

“Well, I want to be there by Christmas Eve.”

“You can leave Christmas Eve morning.” He turned back to the TV like the conversation was over.

“What just happened here?”

He turned back to me, his bright eyes pretty in comparison to his cruel face.

“You don’t tell me what to do. You don’t give me permission. That’s not how this works.”

“You’re my prisoner, and I own you,” he said simply. “Yes, that’s how this works.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning, and that’s the end of the story.”

He grinned even though nothing about this was funny. “I like making you mad. It’s fun.”

I smacked him in the chest, feeling his hard body not even flinch. “Fuck you.”

He chuckled even though I hit him pretty hard. “Alright, I’ll let you go.”

“Let?” I hissed.

“It’s so easy…”

I smacked him again.

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know. A few days after Christmas. Do you have plans for the holiday?” It didn’t seem like he interacted with anyone on a daily basis. I didn’t see him take phone calls or text messages. Richard seemed to be the only person he had.

“My crew and I will go out drinking—our tradition.”

“Who’s this crew?”

“Some of my buddies. We do business together.”

Killing people. “I see…” A part of me pitied him for not having a family to spend the holiday with. Going out and getting drunk seemed terribly depressing. I would go to a big house stuffed with people, and we would drink wine all day and open presents. Even Lars shared the holiday with us, getting more presents than anyone. He was a grandfather to me.

“Don’t feel bad for me.” He turned back to the TV. “I hate that shit.”

He was right. I shouldn’t feel bad for him. He wouldn’t be alone if he valued real relationships and didn’t hang out with murderers. With looks like that, he could have found a nice girl a long time ago, had some kids, and started his own family. “I don’t.”

“Good.”

I could feel his hard dick underneath me. It came out of nowhere, and it seemed like his dick was hard all the time. It didn’t matter if we were fighting or if we just screwed fifteen minutes ago. He always seemed ready for the next round. “How is your dick hard like that all the time?”

He grinned like I just paid him a compliment. “If it bothers you, make it go away.”

I rolled my eyes.

“My dick really likes you, baby. You’re his favorite.”

“I’m so flattered…”

He chuckled. “You should be. He’s a lot pickier than you realize.”

“When you’re with other women, you wear a condom, right?” Because if he went bareback with everyone else, I was in for some serious trouble.

“That’s a personal question…”

“And I have every right to ask. Wouldn’t you want me to use a condom?”

“You won’t be sleeping with anyone else.”

“Uh, what?” I asked. “You said I could see other men.”

“Yeah, you can,” he said. “But you won’t. No other guy will live up to me, so you’ll just be disappointed. And if you do, you’ll just think of me the entire time. Trust me.”

“I’ve had good sex before.”

He shook his head. “Not like you do with me.”

I smacked his chest. “Do you ever get sick of being so fucking cocky?”

“Nope.”

I smacked him again.

“I like it when you hit me, so keep it up.”

I knew he was being serious because his cock got a little harder, so I stopped. “I really hate you.”

“You hate me because I’m right.”

He was right. I’d never been with a man who made me come apart like that. I’d never been with a man who took me so confidently. His dick was huge, and while it hurt sometimes, it felt so damn good. He knew how to kiss a woman, how to handle a woman. He made me feel so good that the idea of being with someone else really did seem pointless. I liked handsome and confident men, but even my best partner wouldn’t compare to Bones. He gave me the best sex of my life. “You never answered my question.”

“Baby, I always wear a condom. I’ve never fucked a woman skin-to-skin before. Just you.”

“What?” I asked in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’ve never been with the same woman long enough to justify it. But with you, it’s a different story.”

That made me feel better. It was unlikely I would catch anything then. “But you don’t know if I’m clean.”

He chuckled. “Women like you are clean.”

“And how do you know?”

“Because you’re smart.”

“I’m fucking you, aren’t I?” I countered.

“And that’s the smartest decision you’ll ever make.”

“It’s never been a decision.” It was kidnapping, plain and simple.

“You’re lying on me right now, aren’t you? My dick is hard but you like feeling it against your clit. Yes, it’s a decision. And you make your choice every single time.”

“Have you ever—”

“I’m sick of all this talking.” He grabbed me and turned me over, forcing my back against the couch and my head on the armrest. He moved me harshly, treating me like a doll rather than a person. He pulled the front of his boxers down so his cock could come out. Instead of getting my underwear off, he ripped them in half like a caveman. He folded one leg against my body, pinning it to the back of the couch, and then he moved on top of me, his big body pressing me into the cushions. He shoved his cock inside me hard, sliding through my wetness. “Always so fucking wet.” He pressed his forehead to mine, the back of my leg against his shoulder. He inserted his arm behind my knee, keeping me spread wide apart so he could fit his fat cock inside.

My body was always wet when he was around, ready to take him at any time. We were fucking around the clock, like newlyweds on their honeymoon. My pussy needed to be prepared to take that big dick at any time. I stopped feeling ashamed because the truth was crystal clear.

He knew it.

I knew it.

One arm wrapped around his neck while my other hand clawed at his back.

He thrust into me hard, dominating me on the couch and fucking me like he hadn’t had me in weeks. He panted and grunted, working his body hard to give me all of his cock from the crown to the bottom of his shaft.

I bit my bottom lip and stared at his face, watching the concentrated expression as he examined my reactions.

“You love my cock. Say it.” He pushed me harder into the couch, keeping my body still so he could ram me harder.

He was already going to make me come. I could feel it in my belly. I’d never been fucked by this man without feeling completely satisfied when we were finished. I never had to touch myself after he left to reach my climax. He always did the job—and did it well. I didn’t need my hand for anything. I just needed him.

When I didn’t cooperate, he ground his hips harder, hitting my clit with perfect pressure.

Shit, my legs were starting to shake.

“Say it, baby.”

My fingers moved up the back of his neck and into his short hair. My nails clawed at his skin, slipping on his sweat. “I love your cock.”

He didn’t smile in arrogance, but his eyes intensified in arousal. “I love this cunt. Best fucking pussy I’ve ever had.”

I pulled his head toward mine so I could kiss him. “You’re the best I’ve ever had…”

He moaned against my mouth, his kiss faltering for an instant. Then he kissed me again, this time harder. His fingers wrapped around my neck and he gave it to me good, driving me into a powerful orgasm. “Say it again.”

I gripped him tighter as he swept me away in the best climax I’ve ever had. “You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

I packed my bags and wrapped up the painting that I would be giving to my family for Christmas. I left everything by the doorstep.

Bones stood by the doorway, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders broad in his t-shirt. “You know how to drive in the snow?”

“I’m going to Conway’s place first. He’ll drive.”

“You want me to drop you off?”

I laughed because I thought it was a joke.

“I’m serious.”

“If you think I’m letting you anywhere near my family, you really are crazy.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve been told that before.”

“I’ll be fine…not that you care.” I grabbed my bags and carried them to the car. Straps were over my shoulders, and I had to use both hands to carry the painting. It would make sense for me to make two trips, but I’d rather get it done in one trip.

Bones snatched the painting out of my hand and took one of my bags. “I got it.”

“The last thing I need is for you to carry my stuff.”

“I disagree.” He grabbed the other bag then took the stairs toward the parking lot. “It would be a shame if you dropped this painting before you had the chance to give it to your family…”

I locked the door to my apartment, even though that seemed pointless now because two of my enemies had broken in without a struggle. I joined Bones at the car in the parking lot, and he already had my things in the trunk and the painting in the backseat. He leaned against the trunk, his arms crossed over his chest. He wore a black hoodie over his dark jeans. The colors contrasted against the blue softness of his eyes. Some of the ink from his tattoos extended past the sleeves of his sweater. A few others reached above the neckline.

I stared at him for a second, at war with myself. A part of me would miss him, miss this psychopath for reasons I couldn’t explain. He was a paradox, threatening to kill me and my family, and then carrying my stuff to the car like a nice boyfriend.

He cocked his head slightly, examining me with the same intensity as I was examining him. “You think you can be around them without telling them what’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

He didn’t flinch at my honest response.

“I’m close with my family. It’s hard to lie. I never lie.”

“Just don’t forget their lives are on the line. Your silence keeps this blood war at bay. It would be a terrible way to spoil their Christmas, especially when I know exactly where every single Barsetti will be…” The threat was unmistakable, in his words and his gaze. “All I have to do is rig the property with explosives and watch it crash to the ground while you all sleep.”

Now I wouldn’t miss him.

“Just something to keep in mind.” He rose to his full height and stopped leaning against the trunk of my car. He walked toward me then craned his neck down so he could kiss me.

I wasn’t kissing him after that statement. I walked around him and headed to the front seat.

He snatched me by the elbow then pushed me into the car door. His hands pressed against the window on either side of my body, and he pressed his face close to mine, his jaw hard because he was clenching it so tightly. “Kiss me, baby.”

I kept my arms against the car, my eyes showing my disdain for him. “No.”

“Then you aren’t going anywhere.”

“I could knee you right in your happy place.”

“You wouldn’t dare, not when it’s your happy place too.” He grabbed my hands and pinned them against the car, holding me in place even though I wasn’t trying to go anywhere. His strong fingers squeezed my wrists. “You’re going to be late.”

“Let me go.”

“No.” He pressed his face closer to mine. “I want something to think about when my hand is wrapped around my dick later. I’m sure you want something to think about when your hand is between your legs tonight.” He was the most arrogant man I’d ever met, but everything he said was true.

I would think about him.

I craned my neck to reach his mouth, and I pressed a kiss softly against his lips, feeling the warmth of his mouth the second we touched. Scruff had grown along his jaw because he hadn’t shaved since he came to my apartment. He didn’t kiss me back right away, letting me kiss him for a moment instead.

Then his mouth moved against mine, keeping the kiss slow and seductive. He gripped my hands with a tight squeeze before he moved his hands to my hips. He pressed me harder into the car, his hands shaking with his passion. His hands showed his aggression, but his kiss remained purposeful and slow.

My arms circled his neck, and I kissed him against my car, our mouths moving hard together and breaking part. His large body kept me warm, his dick hardening in his jeans as he kissed me goodbye. He pressed it harder into me, wanting me to know how I made him feel.

His hand cupped my cheek, and his thumb gently glided across my skin. He kissed me with a gentleness that didn’t match his appearance at all. He could surprise me sometimes and show a side of himself that I didn’t think existed.

He sucked my bottom lip one more time before he pulled away, keeping his mouth a few inches from mine. He stared at my mouth, like he was thinking of moving in once again. But he kept his distance.

I felt like prey as I stood in front of him, his hands on me and his eyes watching every breath I took.

“I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.” He kissed the corner of my mouth before he turned away. He walked off without looking back, walking across the parking lot and to the street. Even in a sweater, the muscles of his torso were obvious. He was broad like the wings of a plane and build like a brick house.

I watched him until he turned the corner.

Then I finally got in my car and drove away.