Scorned Obsession (Scorned Fate)

It was three a.m. and I couldn’t sleep. I looked around the bedroom I had grown up in. Boxes remained unopened. Mom hadn’t touched anything. My vanity, the bed, what I’d left on them. All untouched. It was as if she was saying that I would always have a place to come home to.

I reached for my new phone and texted Sandro.

His reply was almost instantaneous.

There was no response.

I shifted on the bed and texted again.

Again, no response.

He must be busy. Disappointed, I put the phone down. Then it lit up.

I jumped off the bed. My feet must have sprouted wings at how quickly I exited the bedroom. I had the sense to open and close the door quietly. My bedroom was on the fifth floor of my parents’ row house and it was a wonder I didn’t trip down the stairs in my race to the bottom…

Where I ran into Mom.

She had a glass of water in her hand and her hair was disheveled.

Hmm…

I did not want to imagine my parents’ nocturnal activities.

“What are you doing awake?” I asked.

She raised a brow. “What are you doing awake?”

“Sandro is outside.” I grinned sheepishly. “Is it okay if I let him in and stay here?”

Mom gave a short laugh. “Oh my God…this reminds me of…” She broke off and gave a shake of her head. “Of course. He’s your husband.”

“Same alarm code, right?” I didn’t want to wake up Dad. It was embarrassing enough that I ran into Mom and it felt like I was in high school sneaking in a boyfriend.

“Yes, it is.”

“Okay, then.”

I shuffled past the kitchen toward the entrance. I cleared the alarm, opened the door, and stuck my head out. The chilly night air pebbled goose bumps on my skin, but I wondered if it was from the weather or the anticipation of seeing Sandro. A shadowed shape headed my way and Sandro’s form became apparent after it cleared the canopy of trees. He strode to me in an easy gait. He had changed his suit, but it was still black.

If the weather was colder, I bet he would be in an overcoat to conceal more weapons. I knew he had a gun under his suit. A knife and another backup gun strapped to his ankle. Seeing him in this urban setting, it occurred to me no matter where we were, I was married to a lethal man.

It made me shiver.

He hastened up the steps, and his hands hit my hips, backing me into the house.

“You have to be⁠—”

His mouth slammed down on mine, and I was up against the wall beside the entrance. His hands skated over my sides, rough and desperate, while his kisses consumed me.

When he let me come up for air, I breathed, “Wow.”

His eyes gleamed, and he flashed me a grin.

Door I mouthed.

He stepped back. His movements were still relaxed while he closed it without a sound. Then he caged me against the wall again.

“What were you doing standing outside?” I asked.

“I was debating whether I should climb up the building.”

I snickered. “You’d be hitting Dad and Mom’s balcony first if not getting reported by a neighbor.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t make a good impression.”

“Or you could have texted me first.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

“Well, we couldn’t have fun if you were injured or in jail.”

His hands went to my butt and lifted me up. My legs wrapped around his torso.

“Your confidence in my abilities needs work.” His mouth hit mine, ghosting over it. “I’m going to hammer it into you.”

The threat pulsed between my legs. I squirmed against him, gratified to hear him groan.

He walked us to the stairs. “You’ll have to make sure I’m heading in the right direction to your bedroom.”

He’d never been to my bedroom, but he knew it was not street-facing like my parents’ room was. Plus, it had been a while since Sandro had been inside our home. Certainly not after he came back from Russia.

“Fifth floor.”

“That much I know.”

“Make sure to turn right.”

He was wearing his stealthy dress shoes and I could barely hear a sound. Scorching heat emanated from him and I couldn’t help playing with him. I licked the shell of his ear.

“Behave.”

“You really want me to?”

“We have to talk first.”

“Ugh, Sandro, I swear, if you’re not inside me tonight, I’m going to put a chastity belt over my vagina for real.”

His rough laugh was a half groan, half growl. “You’re making it hard.”

I stifled my amusement against his shoulder. “I don’t know how to interpret that.”

He grunted. But when he adjusted his hold on me, my pussy brushed his erection.

And he. Was. Hard.

Oh, my. Sex to me had never been mind-blowing. That time I lost my virginity was traumatizing; it turned me off trying for a while. After that, my boyfriends weren’t that experienced and couldn’t find my clit to save their lives.

Then, after my first year in college, Sandro started sabotaging my relationships. I was pleased at first, thinking he was going to finally make a move. I had no doubt it was jealousy that had him dragging me from the frat house. But he disappeared after that. And when he resurfaced to stalk me, that was when our mutual stalking dance started, but it’d become too painful after he had Griselda send me away that fateful night he got shot rescuing Sera.

Seeing my brothers get their happily ever after ignited my determination to find mine, and since Sandro made it clear it wasn’t going to be with him, I decided to move on.

But he wouldn’t go away.

Until I did.

“Which one?” he muttered.

“The last door on the right.”

The bedrooms remained empty after my brothers moved out. My heart clenched. Beautiful memories echoed in the corners of this house. And if tonight went the way I wanted, another momentous one was about to be made.

Sandro stopped in front of my door. He opened it and proceeded inside. After he closed it, he lowered me and braced me against the door.

“Now we talk,” he murmured.

“About what?”

“Tell me I’m not reading it wrong.”

“You’re not reading it wrong, Sandro.” My words cracked because they were full of a certainty I hadn’t felt in a long time. My years of not knowing what I wanted to be, who I wanted to be, was because the man who was the epitome of everything I craved didn’t want to be with me. But here and now, my dream was within reach. The man I’d loved for most of my life was going to be mine in every way.

“I already told you, I accept every aspect of who you are and I can’t wait to be by your side to lead the family.” I understood Sandro more now. His need for my absolute consent. His mother never had a choice, and I believe what happened to me and Warren Winslow also made it necessary for him to be cautious with me. My heart clenched with the overwhelming emotions for this beautiful, broken man whose priority was always to protect me.

He dropped his forehead to mine. “Good. Because I don’t think I can do this without you.”

“What?”

“All the goodness that remains inside me is because of you. Every line I didn’t cross was because I didn’t want to obliterate a future with you.”

“Sandro…”

“Deep inside, even though I knew I didn’t deserve you, I was too selfish to let you belong to another.” His voice turned guttural as he pressed into me. Sandro was all hardness and caged aggression. My husband was on the edge.

“So what do we do?”

“Bianca,” he growled. “Even before I fuck you, you need to know, there has never been a version of our story in which I let you go.”

“I don’t want you to let me go,” I whispered.

A weighted silence descended that suppressed even the sound of our breathing. Then my whole body was moving, or rather Sandro was moving me.

We went flying into the air, or it felt like flying. We crashed on top of my bed, and his weight descended on me. And we went feral.

Lips and limbs tangled all with frenzied longing. One second he was devouring me with a kiss and making me pant for air, and the next my sleep shorts disappeared and he’d spread my legs and his mouth was on me.

Tasting, seeking, licking. I gripped the bedsheets. Sandro was keeping me on the edge.

Seriously? I moaned my frustration.

He gripped the outside of my thighs, keeping me open.

My hips squirmed.

He paused and growled, “Stop moving.”

“Stop teasing,” I retorted.

His answer was to make a broad swipe across my sensitive flesh.

“I’m not teasing, baby,” he mumbled, or at least I thought that was what I heard. “I’m savoring.” His tongue speared inside me, and he used his nose to rub against my clit. He was good at this. Just keeping the slightest pressure to drive me crazy without getting me off.

“Sandro!”

He stopped. “Shh…you don’t want to wake up the house.”

He replaced his mouth with his finger. Inserting one and following with another. He pumped while he continued to kiss around where I needed him the most.

Somehow, the thought of being caught only fueled the frenetic energy thrumming through my body. My lower body was all boneless and weak, the core of me crying for release. My skin was one blazing inferno. His hand reached out and squeezed my right breast, flicking a thumb over a nipple.

Finally, Sandro went full assault on my pussy. He applied the perfect pressure with his tongue and I exploded on his mouth. I swore I heard a slushy sound, just as an exquisite throbbing held me captive. I pulsed and pulsed. I moaned some more, but this time in throbbing ecstasy. I remembered belatedly to muffle my moan and gripped one end of the pillow and screamed into it. Judging from how slippery I was becoming against his mouth, I was drenched and ready.

Sandro planted kisses on my skin on the way up my body. He settled on his knees and removed my shirt.

“Skin to skin.” He started removing his clothes. Tossed his suit jacket on the floor. I sat up and unbuckled his belt while he unbuckled his shoulder holster, dropping it with his gun to join his suit. Shirt, pants, gone. I traced the outline of his abs down to his erect cock. Like last night, his cock gave me pause. Especially his girth. Hung like a horse came to mind.

I felt his stare drill into the top of my head.

I glanced up at him. His eyes were smoldering, jaw tight.

He wasn’t asking me again. This was happening.

I swallowed and exhaled deeply. Never letting go of my eyes, he pushed me back against the pillows and settled between my legs.

Still watching me, I felt the head of his cock crowning my entrance, inching in. He closed his eyes briefly and gritted his teeth. “I’m not gonna last.”

I tightened my thighs around him.

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” He continued to push in.

I was so wet, but the girth of him was stretching me to an uncomfortable degree.

Sweat beaded on his forehead. His jaw was clenched and his gaze was a mixture of agony and possessiveness.

“It’s been a while,” I whispered.

“Don’t say another word,” he growled. “I don’t wanna know.”

“But—” My breath hitched. “Are you in?”

“Not even halfway.”

Oh my God.

He edged in slowly. Was he thicker in the middle?

His words came back to me. I’m going to rip you apart.

He was not joking!

Hysteria bubbled up my throat. “Sandro…”

“Don’t tense.” His eyes were going feral. “Please don’t fucking tense.” It was like he’d become the devil and I was at his mercy.

He spoke through clenched teeth, “Does it hurt?”

“No. It’s uncomfortable.”

“I’ll go slower.” His voice was strained. He withdrew slightly to push in again.

I hadn’t had sex in a year. That was what I was going to tell him. But I got it. I didn’t want to know who was his last or when, either.

He lowered his head and kissed me while he paused his entry into my body. I tasted me. I moaned into his mouth and he resumed his inward glide. And just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, he rasped, “I’m all in.”

“Thank God,” I breathed and I meant it.

“I’ll let you get used to me,” he murmured. He planted kisses all over my face, stroking my forehead, all the while saying, “You’re such a good girl.” He moved slightly, as if peering down at where we were joined. “Look at you taking all of me.”

“I was worried there for a while,” I admitted.

He chuckled briefly with a hint of self-deprecation. “Me too.”

After a few seconds, he said, “I’m going to move now.”

I gulped, giving a brief nod. The anxiety of not being able to take all of him was fading.

He started to pump. I was full of him, tight around him, but after the third stroke, my body slowly molded around him and the pleasure returned.

“You’re mine now, Bianca,” he growled with fierce possessiveness.

The enormity of this moment hit me.

“I’ve always been yours.”