Dirty Moans With My Husband's Father

Episode15

ANTONIO

I stood by the window of my private study, staring out at the dark, rain-swept estate. My knuckles were deeply bruised from punching the solid marble wall ten minutes ago. I knew Bruno laid his hands on her. My men had reported the confrontation in the courtyard the absolute second it happened. The urge to walk downstairs, put my gun to my son's temple, and pull the trigger was a physical, agonizing ache in my blood.

But I forced myself to stay in the shadows.

Olivia was proud. She was stubborn. If I stepped in and played the savior too early, she would just resent me and try to run again. She needed to hit absolute rock bottom. She needed to look around her shattered world and realize that I was the only way out.

My phone vibrated on the desk. It was Lucius.

"Capo," his crisp voice came through the speaker. "She slipped out the back gates in a taxi. She is at a dive bar in the south district."

The thought of her sitting unprotected in a city full of wolves made my chest tight.

"Keep eyes on her," I commanded, already grabbing my heavy black overcoat. "I am on my way."

The bar smelled of stale beer, cheap smoke, and wet pavement. I stepped inside, the heavy metal door shutting out the freezing rain. Without a word, I slid silently into a dark, secluded corner booth.

She sat on a cracked leather stool at the far end of the counter. Her hair was a messy, wet halo. Her cheek was slightly swollen from where that bastard hit her. I watched as she threw back a shot of clear liquor, slamming the small glass down onto the sticky wood.

"Another," she slurred, her voice carrying over the low hum of the terrible jukebox music.

The bartender shook his head, wiping the counter with a dirty rag. "You're done, lady. I'm cutting you off. You can barely sit up straight."

Olivia let out a bitter, ugly laugh. "You think you can tell me what to do? You're just like the rest of them. Go to hell."

She grabbed her purse, nearly knocking over her stool, and stumbled blindly toward the back exit.

I followed her out the heavy metal door. The back alley was pitch black, illuminated only by a flickering, broken streetlamp. The freezing rain came down in heavy sheets.

Before I could close the distance, three men stepped out from the shadows near the dumpsters. Street trash. They surrounded her instantly.

"Look what we have here," one of them sneered, reaching out and roughly grabbing her waist. "You lost, sweetheart?"

Olivia slapped his hand away, stumbling backward until her spine hit the wet brick wall. "Don't touch me!"

Another thug laughed, grabbing her upper arm and yanking her forward. "Feisty. I like that."

The possessive, violent rage I had been suppressing all night completely snapped. I didn't shout. I drew the silver handgun from my coat, aimed without hesitating, and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot was deafening in the narrow alley. The bullet shattered the kneecap of the man holding her. He collapsed to the wet asphalt, screaming in absolute agony and clutching his ruined leg.

The other two froze. Their eyes went wide with pure terror as I stepped into the dim light. The smoking gun hung loosely in my hand.

"Run," I commanded softly.

They didn't hesitate. They abandoned their bleeding friend and sprinted wildly down the alley, disappearing into the dark.

I holstered my weapon and stepped up to Olivia. She was shaking violently, her eyes wide and out of focus. I wrapped my arms around her, effortlessly lifting her off the wet ground and pulling her tight against my chest.

"*Sei al sicuro ora, piccola,*" I murmured against her wet hair, my voice vibrating with dark promise. *You are safe now, little one.* "I have you."

I carried her down the block to where my SUV was parked. I opened the heavy door and set her gently onto the spacious leather backseat, climbing in right after her. I slammed the door, shutting out the storm and sealing us in the quiet, dim interior.

The soft light cast shadows across her bruised face. She blinked, her bleary eyes finally focusing on my face.

"You," she breathed, her voice a rough, wet whisper. "You manipulative bastard."

"You are drunk, Olivia."

"I lost everything today," she sobbed, hitting my chest with a weak, uncoordinated fist. "He took it all. And you just watched."

I grabbed her wrists, pinning them gently against my chest. "I told you I would fix it. You only had to ask."

She stopped fighting. The alcohol stripped away every single layer of her American heiress pride and her defensive walls. Her heavy, intoxicated gaze dropped to my lips. The anger in her eyes melted into something raw, messy, and devastatingly honest.

"I hate you," she cried softly. "But God, I like you. I like how you take control. I love..." She swallowed hard, her chest heaving as she looked right into my eyes. "I love the way you f**k me. I want it."

She didn't give me a single second to process the confession. She lunged forward, straddling my lap. Her knees pressed deep into the leather on either side of my hips. Her hands scrambled frantically at the buttons of my shirt, tearing the expensive fabric.

I gripped her hips, trying to hold her still. "Olivia, stop. You have had too much to drink."

"Don't tell me no," she whimpered, leaning down and smashing her lips against mine.

The taste of cheap liquor and her sweet mouth destroyed my iron restraint in a single heartbeat. The fragile thread of my control snapped completely. I crushed my mouth to hers, kissing her with a starving, brutal intensity.

I gripped her waist, lifting her up and setting her firmly against my hard length. She moaned into my mouth, a desperate, needy sound that sent a surge of hot blood straight to my hard c**k.

My hands tangled in her wet hair, tilting her head back to expose her neck. I bit down gently on the unbruised skin of her collarbone. She gasped, arching her back, pressing her absolute wetness right against the zipper of my slacks.

"You belong to me," I growled against her skin, my voice dark and ragged. "Say it."

"I'm yours," she sobbed, grinding her hips down hard against me. "Just take me. Please."

I unbuckled my belt, the heavy metal clinking loudly in the quiet car. I shoved her wet skirt up her thighs, my large hands gripping her bare, heated flesh. In the dark sanctuary of the backseat, she surrendered everything.

I pulled her panties down, my fingers finding how incredibly slick and ready her p***y was for me. I stroked her c**t deep and hard, listening to her breath hitch and her voice shatter into a hundred broken moans.

"Look at me," I commanded, my thumb rubbing exactly where she needed it.

She opened her heavy eyes, her pupils blown wide with pure lust.

I guided myself to her entrance. With one smooth, ruthless thrust, I buried myself completely inside her. She cried out, her nails digging deep into my shoulders as her tight cut walls swallowed my c**k whole.

This was going to be a long night.