Giovanni (Benedetti Brothers 4)

“No.”

“You’re not a quick learner, are you?” I don’t want to be rough with her, but she leaves me no choice. I get her into the car and Vincent closes the door. It locks as soon as he starts the engine.

“This is kidnapping! You can’t do this!”

“Put your seat belt on.”

“Jesus. What is wrong with you?”

I stop, turn to face her, drag the seat belt across her chest, and click it into place. “I don’t like seeing some man put his hands on the woman I plan on fucking tonight.”

Her mouth falls open.

“Please don’t bullshit me, Emilia. You knew exactly—”

“Because you sent that note? You’re insane.”

“I know what I want.”

“That doesn’t mean you just take it. That’s not how it works.”

“It’s how it works in my world, and guess what? You’re in my world now, Sunshine.”

“You can’t just…just…”

I shake my head and look out the window as we approach my house. Vincent parks in the garage then discreetly goes inside. I open the door and climb out. She is already opening hers when I get to her side and immediately turns to walk over to the closing garage door, but she’s not getting by me. I physically put my body between her and the exit. It’s kind of funny when she starts twice, only to stop twice, like she thought for one moment that she could get past me.

“Inside,” I say with a nod of my head

“No.”

“You just don’t fucking learn, do you?”

She opens her mouth to reply when I turn her and, keeping her arms behind her, I walk her up the stairs, to the door, and into the house. Once we’re inside, I release her. She immediately goes to the counter, picks up an empty glass sitting there, and hurls it at me. I duck, and it crashes against the wall, shattering. I look at the mess, then at her and see that she’s also looking at the floor, maybe just as surprised by her action as I am. More so, even.

When I take a step toward her, she takes one back, then turns and runs. I don’t bother to run. I don’t have to. I stalk after her through the kitchen and into the hallway to the locked front door, which she ridiculously tries to open again and again.

“Emilia.” I watch as her spine goes rigid at the low command in my voice.

She turns, takes one look at me, and tries to slip past me into the living room. I capture her arm, but she loses her balance. If I hadn’t had her, she’d have gone sprawling.

I walk her backward until I have her by the wall, where I press her against it and cage her in with my hands on either side of her face.

“I think you like to be chased, don’t you?”

“I hate you.”

“Why? Because I make you lose your cool? Because I take away your control?”

“Fuck you.”

“I plan to. I plan to fuck you every way humanly possible.”

Her eyes go wide. She doesn’t come back with a retort. I speak again.

“That includes this big mouth of yours.” I lean in to kiss it, only to be met by a snapping of her teeth.

I smile, wipe my thumb over the spot, and see the smear of blood on my finger.

“You want it rough?” Her heart is racing, I see it in the maniacal throbbing of her pulse, in the quick rise and fall of her chest. “Because that’s going to cost you.”

“Let me go.”

“Make me.”

She narrows her eyes, exhales loudly, and shoves against my chest with both hands. I chuckle at her effort. She begins pounding her fists against me.

“Let me go!”

I lean in closer, so her face is distorted. “Make me,” I repeat, my tone low, a threat, a warning, and a challenge all in one.

“Is this what you want? To fuck me? Will you let me go then?”

“Not likely.”

But she keeps going like she hasn’t heard me. “Because I don’t think I can do the other thing.” Her voice breaks, and her forehead creases. I’m thinking of a fuck, but her face is collapsing. All I can do is watch her. “I think...” She looks over my shoulder and shakes her head. There’s a panic in her eyes when they finally meet mine. “I think you’re going to hurt me.”

She bites her lip, and tears glisten in her eyes. I get the feeling more and more that she’s on the edge of something. Like she’s standing on a precipice and her neatly controlled life—from the tight bun on her head, to the impeccable apartment, to her cool facade—it’s all about to come toppling down.

And fuck me if I’m dealing with that shit when it happens. Because I know without a doubt she’s gonna blow.

“I won’t let him hurt you, if you’re afraid of him.”