Oath of Sacrifice (Deviant Doms 4)

And just like that, like a long-lost wound, he splits me open again until I bleed.

Just like that, I’m laid bare.

Every word he said is true, every word.

How does he delve so deep into my mind he knows my thoughts?

“Why, Santo?” I whisper.

He doesn’t ask me what I mean. He knows.

I hold my breath as he draws nearer. He leans in so closely, I fear I’ll faint before I can breathe again. He has to bend to kiss my cheek. His hair’s damp, falling on his forehead like he’s a carefree boy. But he isn’t.

He never was.

His lips brush my cheek.

“You know why, baby. You know.”

I close my eyes. He’s so close. I want him so badly I can’t think beyond the blood thrumming in my ears. So close. Every raw, vicious inch of him.

“But I want to hear you say it,” I whisper.

He utters the words as if they’re torn from him, as if it physically pains him to say it. “Because you’re my addiction, and I don’t want a fucking cure.”

I don’t realize I’m crying until he wipes a tear from my cheek. Cupping the back of my head, he pulls me to his chest. He’s still fully clothed, probably boiling in here, but he doesn’t let on that it bothers him. He just… holds me. I’m half-naked, wrapped in a towel, and he holds me to him like it’s the only chance we’ll ever have to be this close.

“There are no cameras in these rooms, Rosa. We’ll have visitors, you know that. We’ll have places to go, and we can’t make anyone suspicious. But while I’m here and you’re here, we’ll have the privacy we need.”

“To do what?”

As if I’m innocent, as if I don’t know exactly what he wants or what he has planned. As if it isn’t exactly what I want, too.

Tomorrow, Romeo could be home. Tomorrow, Romeo could announce my engagement to be married or Santo’s return to Tuscany. Tomorrow, Tavi could tell us he’s found a woman for Santo to marry, someone to form an alliance with. It’s doubtful any of those will happen that soon, but they could happen the day after… or the day after… or any day after.

All we have is the present. The past is gone, and we may never have a future.

Santo and I definitely don’t have one.

His low, dark chuckle is his only response.

CHAPTER NINE

Santo

The sun set an hour ago, but I was not going to leave the job until I was done. Inside The Castle awaited central air, good food, and even better company, but I had a job to do, and I was not gonna quit until I finished.

The chrome gleamed in the overhead light. Papa was overseeing a business deal in Tuscany and wouldn’t be home for another week, and damn, it was nice to work without fear of his wrath or the call to do his fucking dirty work.

I almost whistled to myself as I checked the oil and wiped my hand on a dirty rag. The heat was oppressive, but I only needed another hour—

The soft, soulful sound of crying caught my attention. I lay still under the car, thankful I hadn’t put the radio on like I’d planned to. The click of a door closing meant someone had come out from the house.

Not Romeo. Romeo didn’t cry, not at his age. Not Orlando or Tavi, either, for the same reasons. Maybe Mario, but even he was too old for shit like tears now. And it couldn’t be Marialena, because everyone knew when she cried.

That left only one person.

I waited until the tears began to subside before I wheeled out from underneath the car.

Rosa, beautiful, stunning Rosa, with her large eyes and thick, long hair, sat hunched in the corner staring at me. Crying. Again.

“I didn’t know you were here,” she whispered, pushing to her feet.

“Sit.”

She blinked, staring at me as if processing my command to sit. I hadn’t thought about our age difference in years. I always felt older than she was, and I found it easier to take command. It was in my nature.

She sat. Her hair fell over her face and covered her from me.

“Stay right there.”

I stood, wiping my hands on a rag. I went to the sink we had in the corner and washed up while she sat. Staring. I looked down at myself, curious as to what she saw.

I’d taken off my T-shirt in the heat. Fresh ink across my back and shoulders, though my arms were still mostly a blank canvas. I was not one of the preppy boys from college, but I worked out, had finally gotten the body of a man, and it had finally started to show.

I cleaned thoroughly in case I had to touch her.

Hidden in the shadows as I was, her guard didn’t hear me when he opened the door from the house to the garage.