Page 55 of Veil of Vengeance

Emiliano doesn’t stop lapping at my center, only slowing his pace as my walls ease pulsing around his fingers. When he eventually removes his fingers from inside me, they come out with a pop.

We stare at each other, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath, and he brings his fingers to his mouth before sucking my arousal off. “Divine,” he says as he winks. If I wasn’t already flushed, I would become as red as a tomato.

My skin is slick with my sweat, and I stare at him with droopy eyes. Throat constricting, something weighs down in my chest. I shake off the shame, not wanting to feel the way I do after my first orgasm. My entire body’s sore, and my limbs feel heavy as I try to get up.

“What about you?” I ask, pointing to his erection when I notice it as he stands back up.

“Not today. This is enough for now. Get some rest.” He takes one of the pillows off the bed and heads to a drawer in the corner of the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

He doesn’t turn to look at me as he digs through the drawer.

“I’m sleeping in the living room,” he tells me. My eyebrows pull together in confusion.

“Why?” I probe. He pauses and looks back at me.

“So you can sleep in here.”

“I’m sure it’s fine after what just happened,” I point out. He narrows his eyes as his face closes off.

“I don’t sleep in the same room, let alone the same bed, with a woman.”

Ouch. Okay, I guess I’m just being lumped in with every other woman he’s had a sexual encounter with. If he notices that what he said hurt me, he doesn’t comment as he pulls a blanket from the drawer.

He places the pillow under his arm and the blanket over his shoulder as he heads to the door. But before he leaves, he pauses in front of it with his hand on the lock, as if debating whether to stay. Shaking his head, he unlocks the door and opens it.

The door closes with a click, and I’m left with the silence of the room. I run my hand through my hair, sighing.? How could I do that with him? What the fuck am I going to do when I go back home?

I’ve just risked not only my life but my mom’s and siblings’. I’m so fucking stupid. I get up with another sigh, needing another shower before bed. ?

After showering and drying off, I try to resist the urge of snooping, but it only lasts for a couple of minutes. I look through his bedside tables. I don’t find much in the first one, except for a very pretty dagger.

The handle is gold with carvings and words that readforever & always. I place it back where I found it and notice a necklace that I’d missed. It’s got a gold chain with a dainty tear-shaped emerald in the middle, surrounded by sapphires.

The emerald is the size of the top of my pinkie. It looks sentimental, so I gently put it back in its place. On the other bedside table, there’s a picture of Eli, Matteo, Lucio, Mara, Mariana, and an older gentleman who looks like the older version of Eli. Eli? Since when did I start calling him that?

I rub my hand down my face. Jesus, I need to get a grip. The man gave me one orgasm and I feel comfortable calling him by his nickname.

I pick up the frame to take a closer look. They all seem so much younger. Emiliano looks like he’s in his early twenties. Mara and Matteo both look so young, they must be around thirteen in the picture.

Lucio’s quite tall for his age. Mariana and the older version of Emiliano are both looking at each other, smiling blissfully. They appear so happy and content. As if the world can throw anything at them, and they’ll be able to handle it with ease.

I bite the side of my cheek, wondering if my family could’ve been like this if Dad wasn’t so power hungry and corruption didn’t run so rampant in his blood that it poisoned us.

I’m sure the older man in the picture was just as corrupt, but the love that is clear in his eyes probably helped keep it away from his family.

I run my thumb over Emiliano’s face, drinking in his boyish smile. He must’ve been around my age, but you can tell he was already a Made man with blood on his hands. ??

I startle when I hear a loud groan. Setting back the photo on the side table, I take a step toward the door. There’s another groan as I inch closer. I place my ear against the door and cradle it with my hand to try to hear better.

“Fuck-oh my-Jesus.” Oh my God, is that Emiliano? What is he doing? His voice is trembling, and his groans are low and deep. My other hand reaches for the handle. I debate whether to crack the door open a bit to see what he’s doing.

The door silently opens, and I try to see through the slit. The scene in front of me makes my blood heat and my cheeks flush instantly. My chest heaves as my breathing picks up. Emiliano is splayed on the couch half naked, his hand pumping his cock up and down. Fast.

I crack the door open a bit farther, curiosity getting the better of me. His head is thrown back, his breaths so loud I could hear them from where I stand. My breath hitches when his eyes meet mine and he doesn’t stop, but he slowly strokes his cock.

“This is what you fucking do to me,” he groans, pre-cum leaking from the tip of his thick, long cock. It’s veiny and huge. I feel my thighs press together as my center throbs with pleasure. The corner of his lips quirk in a smirk before his eyes become hooded and he continues to stare at me as his fist keeps stroking.

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