Page 44 of Revenge

Antonio’s breath grows ragged, his face grows slack above me. “Dahlia,” he growls.

That’s all it takes for me. Just the sound of my name in his deep voice makes me come. I seize up around him, hooking my ankles behind his back to draw him in.

“Wait…fuck,” he pants, still plowing into me. “Now.” He shoves in and stays, filling me with his hot seed.

My body understands his command because the orgasm that rolls through me is like nothing I’ve experienced before. My internal muscles contract and release around him, my inner thighs squeeze tight around his hips. I bite his neck, suck his earlobe, gasp and cry out and whimper as our bodies find completion together.

“Oh, baby.” Antonio pants into my neck. He lifts his head and cages my jaw in that dominant way of his. “You were incredible. So good, baby. Are you all right?”

I nod in his grip.

“Was I too rough? I know you’re still getting used to me.”

“I liked it.”

His smile makes butterflies swirl in my belly. “Of course you did.” He says it with such pride that I crack open, and something that’s been locked up and caged forever rolls free. He lowers his head and kisses me hard, and I receive him, glorying in this new bond we’ve forged–whatever it may be.

But I don’t get a chance to explore it further because at that moment, the door explodes inward and two men dressed in camo and carrying machine guns barge into the room.

Chapter Ten

Antonio

I throw my body in front of Dahlia’s to protect her from the intruders at the same time I reach for my gun beside the bed.

“Don’t shoot!" A voice shouts from above deck. "My daughter’s in there!”

Aw, fuck.

Benedict King must want to die.

I point the gun back and forth between the two men. They must be mercenaries–ex-US military types. “Shoot me, and you’ll risk her.”

“Dahlia, get away from him!” one of the men growls.

The sound of her name on his lips is all it takes to make me go off. I shoot him then the other guy in less than one second.

Dahlia screams at the top of her lungs.

I leap up from the bed and run to the door.

“Dahlia!” Her father calls from out on the deck.

“Don’t shoot!” she screams back.

I’m not sure if she’s pleading with me or him.

I storm out and up the stairs to the deck and immediately draw fire from the sun deck. I duck back into the corridor, peering up in the direction it came.

I see one of my men dangling from the railing, blood pouring from his head. Another of my soldiers lies on the deck.

Fanculo.

I aim my pistol toward the sun deck and slowly shift my weight out until I’m far enough to take aim. A bullet strikes the wall directly beside my head, but mine finds home in another merc.

I hear shouts in Italian and more gunfire. Some of my men are still alive, then.

“Dahlia?”