Chapter Six
Brutal need stormed through Dante.
The primitive urge to mate and claim was an almost painful compulsion. He rose and gripped her hips, pulling her to the very edge of the table.
Her eyes opened, some of the daze clearing from them. Then her hands were tugging eagerly at his trousers, lowering his zipper.
His body tightened and when her hand circled his cock, he groaned, long and loud.
“I need you,” she panted. “Now.”
“If I don’t have you, I’ll go mad.” He leaned forward, his cock sliding against her folds.
“Take me, Dante. Calm the storm in both of us.”
Dio. He fumbled for his jeans and pulled out a condom. He sheathed himself and with one hard thrust that rattled the hall table, he lodged himself inside her.
A cry was torn from her and her body bowed. “So…full.”
He leaned back, looking down at where they were joined. Where she was stretched wide around him. “Hold on, bella.” He started thrusting.
She gripped the edge of the table as he hammered into her slick wetness, animal-like groans escaping him with every thrust.
Samia’s cries echoed in his ears. So good. His vision blurred, pleasure coiling in his gut. He felt her body tighten around him. “Come again, Samia. Come on my cock.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
Her body clamped down on his, and he gritted his teeth. He started pounding into her with an unforgiving rhythm. “Mine.”
She made an incoherent sound. He slid his hands into her short hair and forced her glassy gaze to his.
“Mine.” He thrust his hips, plunging into her again and again.
She felt perfect against him, her body fitting his like a piece of a puzzle. She took every inch of him, everything he was, good and bad. She’d been made for him.
The storm hit him and swept him away. With a tortured groan, he pumped into her one last time, his release jetting out of him.
When Dante came back to awareness, he felt wrung out, and…good. No darkness, no whispers, just the glow of really good sex. He nuzzled Samia’s neck. “Give me a day or two and I’ll be able to walk.”
She laughed, a sound he realized he hadn’t heard before. “Don’t expect me to walk anywhere. If you don’t carry me, I’m spending the next few hours here.”
Since his manhood was in question, he straightened and scooped her into his arms. He kicked his jeans away before they tripped him and then headed for the bedroom.
He dropped her on the bed and she stretched out with a groan. He ducked into the bathroom to clean up and was back in seconds.
His gaze skated over her perfectly-formed breasts topped with dusky nipples, her elegant ribcage, the long, lean strength of her flat belly and legs. His cock twitched and he swallowed a groan. Damn thing was trying to kill him.
“I need some food,” she said.
“I’ll feed you. After.”
“After?” She looked up and then her gaze dropped to his hardening cock. “You cannot be ready for another round.”
He pressed a knee to the bed. “Warrior of the Wind, bella. Looking at you, smelling you, I’m ready.”
“You’ll kill us.” She flipped onto her belly and tried to scramble across the bed.
He gripped her legs and held her in place. His gaze went to her naked ass, his cock going rock hard again. There was no pride, no despair, only Samia.
“I’ll take care of you, Samia.” He covered her body with his. “And I want to hear you scream my name when I make you come again.”
***
Dante finished stirring the pasta sauce and then scooped some out onto freshly-cooked pasta. He set the plate on the counter top and slid it over. “Eat.”
This was the life. Samia smiled at him. She sat on the counter in the fancy kitchen, wearing only one of Dante’s shirts. A hot Italian hunk cooking for her after giving her so many orgasms she’d lost count. She scooped up some pasta, tasted it, and then moaned. “This is so good.”
He smiled. “I can make a few decent dishes. My uncle is a chef and made sure my brothers and I could all cook.”
“What happened to your parents?”
He stilled, moving his fork around his own plate. “My mother got sick and died when I was young. My father was Warrior of the North Wind and was killed by the Tempest Winds.”
She heard the buried pain. She pressed her hand over his. “I’m sorry.”
He turned his hand and entangled their fingers. “It was hard. My brother Lorenzo was with him and saw it all. The Winds hurt him, too. It affected him far worse than the rest of us. Luckily, we had a big extended family and I had my brothers.” He lifted his other hand and tilted her chin up. “Who did you have?”
“The brotherhood. My father is one of their top trainers.”
“So why are you so lonely I can feel it from here?”
“Like you said, I’m expendable. If an assassin falls, another one takes their place. We tend not to get close to one another.”
A muscle ticked in Dante’s jaw. “You are not expendable.” He reached over and grabbed a slim file. “While you were exhausted from multiple orgasms, I did a little digging.”
She snorted and took the file from him. “What’s this?” She flicked it open, expecting to see something about the Tempest Winds. Instead, a picture of the teenaged boy she’d murdered was on the top of the file. Bile rose in her throat and she shoved it away. “You bastard—”
Dante moved, gripping her thighs to hold her in place. “Read the information, Samia.”
Her insides hollow, she grabbed a printout with a shaking hand.
Black magic. In training. Had killed before. Discipline at school covered up by father.
She blinked. She couldn’t believe what she was reading.
“He was his father’s apprentice, Samia. He had dark magic and he was helping his father kill those women.”
“Where did you get this?” Her voice was shaky.
“I have contacts. It wasn’t hard to find. He was evil, Samia.”
Emotions ran through her. “He was young. He might have had time to change—”
“He’d already killed. Numerous times.”
She closed her eyes. “Dante.”
He pulled her into his chest, hugging her tight. “You didn’t kill an innocent.”
She pulled back, pressing her mouth to his. He kissed her deeply.
Suddenly, Samia felt a rush of power. It was dark and twisted. She pulled back, feeling the power like black sludge on her skin.
“Samia?” Dante’s big body tensed.
She pushed off the counter and hurried to the window. “I can feel something…”
His shoulder brushed hers and they both looked out the floor-to-ceiling glass. The setting sun was painting Rome in shades of gold.
Then Dante stiffened like he’d been shot. “I can feel it now.” The French doors nearby slammed open and a harsh wind rushing inside. It knocked things off tables and tossed pillows across the room.
Dante tackled Samia and they hit the floor. He covered her as the wind howled around them.
Then it shut off, like it had never been there.
They both sat up and Samia stared at the destruction around them. “What the hell was that?”
“Africus. It was a taunt.”
They both stood. “He’s luring you out,” she said. “It’s a trap.”
Dante nodded grimly. “I can’t ignore it. I have to find him.”
Together, they hurried to the room and dressed. Worry nipped at Samia as she slipped her knives into their sheaths. Like her, Dante dressed in black—black cargo pants and a tight black T-shirt that accented his hard muscles. He looked like the Warrior of the South Wind, not a playboy shipping magnate. She set her shoulders back. Whatever happened, she’d help him, protect him.
As they stepped outside, the shadows were already growing. She pulled in a deep breath, absorbing the scents of the city.
Dante raised a hand and she felt his power flare. But minutes later, he shook his head. “My wind isn’t finding him. Or rather, it’s finding too many signs of him.”
Samia closed her eyes and let her senses expand. She could sense the shadows, hear the furtive movements of things hiding in the dark, smelled a taint in the air.
Her eyes snapped open and she spun away, her body tensing. “I have him. I have his trail.”
Dante nodded “Let’s go.”
They broke into a jog. They followed the trail through the streets and piazzas. A few times the scent grew faint, but Samia never gave up. Night had fallen when they came to a stop in front of the towering edifice of the Colosseum.
Whispers rose up around Samia, like a cloud of dark smoke. Taunting, tempting. Do you think you can best me, Hashshasin? Do you really think he wants a killer like you by his side?
When she looked at Dante, she saw his jaw was clenched. “He’s inside,” she said.
“Yes. I’m going alone from here.”
Samia stiffened. “No way. We’re working together, Dante.”
His face was stark, his eyes almost empty. “This is my fight. You’ve helped me, but only I can face Africus and bring him down.”
She stepped up to Dante. “Because you’re the powerful Warrior? Because you’re a man?”
He gripped her arms. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Samia.”
“The best way to do that is to let me help you take this evil down.”
“We both know we work better alone. You’re an assassin who lives in the shadows. I’m the Warrior of the South Wind.”
His words were like a slap to her face. Here she’d been thinking they made a good team. For once, she’d enjoyed working beside someone else.
“So, I was just an easy lay and a way for you to get some sleep.” Her voice was flat. “Right. Got it.”
He made a growling sound and pulled her closer. “Do not ever say that again.” His eyes were blazing now. “Africus is stronger than he’s ever been. I need to bring him down, and…”
Realization blazed through her. “You don’t think you’ll survive the fight.”
His fingers brushed along her cheekbone, then he kissed her—brief and hard. “Stay safe, Samia. And live that life you haven’t had a chance to embrace.”
With those words, his body melted away, turning into the wind.
“No!” she cried, reaching for him.
Her hands passed through him.
She watched his wind rush away, flying over the tall fence surrounding the monument, then high up over the curved stone walls.
Damn the man! Samia ran and climbed the metal fence surrounding the Colosseum.
He wasn’t getting rid of her so easily. Because Samia had finally worked out the first thing she wanted in her life. The thing she chose for herself.
It was Dante Venti.
On the other side of the fence, she dropped the few feet to the ground, crouching low to absorb the impact. Then she was up and running, blending with the shadows to avoid the security guards patrolling the perimeter.
She ran inside the main arena and headfirst into a wall of howling wind. The Colosseum rose up around her, a sense of history pulsing from the stone. Below the stands where the fans had once cheered on their favorite gladiators, nothing remained of the ancient wooden floor of the main arena. It left the underground tunnels and rooms exposed. Once they’d been filled with gladiators and wild animals waiting to be entertainment for the blood-thirsty crowds.
On the other side of the mass of exposed tunnels, she saw Africus.
Dante touched down near the Tempest Wind. She watched his body solidify and his stride never slowed as he headed for his rival.
“It ends here, Africus.”
Africus’ shoulder-length fall of blond hair framed his pretty, smiling face, adding to the unearthly beauty. “Yes. Let’s end this.”
The wind screamed like a wild animal, tearing through the ancient building at high speed. She heard the whispers in it, dark voices urging ugly, prideful things. She pushed forward, battling across a modern walkway that crossed the arena, her gaze on the deadly fight ahead.
Dante moved his arms and a huge gust of air knocked Africus to his knees. The Tempest Wind rose to his feet, and sent his own wind back in retaliation.
Samia pushed harder, barely able to take more than a few steps against the strength of the wind. She saw Dante stagger, but he stayed upright. The men clashed, Dante swinging out with a fist and Africus fighting back.
Africus fought back with vicious kicks and punches. Dante blocked and matched each thrust with one of his own. It was a deadly display of brutal hard fighting. Dante was bigger than his opponent, and seemed to have an edge.
Fighting the wind, Samia pushed forward. Halfway across the walkway, she saw Dante drop to his knees.
No. She hurried, battling the gusts tearing at her clothes and making her eyes water.
Suddenly the wind died away and she heard Africus laughing.
“Not so powerful now, Warrior.”
Dante’s groan echoed across the ancient stonework. “Stop.”
“Stop the whispers? I don’t control them, Venti. If you hear them,” Africus leaned close, his blond hair falling forward, “it’s because you want them.”
“No.” Dante’s tone was tortured.
Hold on. Samia increased her pace. She had to help him.