My heart drummed so fast it stole my breath.

“You know what happens when you dance around men looking like this?”

I swallowed and shook my head.

“They don’t respect you.” His voice was rough and so close to my ear it sent a shiver down my neck.

“Who said I want their respect?”

His grip tightened on the counter. “You want him to fuck you?”

I blinked. “What?”

“Christian,” he growled.

“And if I do?” I asked quietly.

“My earlier statement is withstanding.”

I inhaled slowly, trying to think clearly in his presence.

“Do you respect me?” I had no idea where it came from, but it was there now, lingering in the air with a heavy insinuation.

He didn’t answer.

A wave of shock rolled through me when the pad of his finger traced the hem of my swimsuit bottoms that still bared too much of my ass. My breath stopped when his other hand slid up my side and gripped my waist, beneath my breast. My nipples tightened, tingling in expectation. Heat pulsated between my legs, and I fought the desire to grab his hand and slide it up until he palmed my breast. I swayed, fighting the need to lean back against him, to feel his body against mine.

His finger slid under my bottoms, gliding over the curve of my ass where it almost met thigh. All the blood in my body sizzled when he came too close to a taboo part of me. Though, it was probably only taboo to me since no one had ever touched me there before.

Wetness pooled between my thighs. The desire for him to touch me, to slip his fingers inside me right here in the kitchen, was so strong I inched up on my tiptoes and arched my back, urging his hand lower.

He cursed roughly and pulled the fabric out from between my cheeks. His hand slid around my hip, grasping my waist to match the other one. They were so close to my breasts I was losing my mind. I fell back until I was leaning against him, and my entire body sang like it never had before.

My nerve endings buzzed and sparked like rain on a live wire. He was so warm and hard. His erection pressed against my lower back. Nicolas Russo was turned on, and I’d never experienced a single thing more thrilling.

My head rested on his chest, and the buttons on his dress shirt tickled my bare spine. I brought my hand to my waist and slipped my fingers between his. Our breathing filled the kitchen.

When I heard my brother’s laughter from downstairs, I realized how dangerous this was. Anyone could come in.

“You want me to respect you?”

It was a loaded question, but I only knew one answer. Only wanted one thing from this man, and only needed it once so I could know what it was like.

I shook my head.

I wanted him to disrespect me. Every inch of me.

His hands tightened on my waist almost painfully, as if he struggled to keep them there. He nuzzled the back of my head, but his voice was suddenly as cold as ice. “You like it when men disrespect you?”

A chill passed through me.

My hand still rested on his, and he gently spun my ring with a finger until the jewel faced downward. His teeth scraped my ear. “Or maybe you just like to get them all worked up, panting after you.”

His lips brushed my neck and goose bumps broke out along my body.

“So, which one is it?”

I was a slut or a tease.

Those were the options he’d given me—what he thought of me. Frustration expanded in my chest.

“Both.”

He stilled, before making an angry sound in his throat and shoving me away from him.

I grasped the counter, catching myself, and then spun around.

His gaze flared. “Looks like you’re as big of a cheat as I am, Elena.”

What was that supposed to mean? That was the second time he’d insinuated I was somehow disloyal.

Ice trickled into my veins when someone appeared at the top of the basement stairs. Gabriella. She looked between us, back and forth, then smiled awkwardly and hurried from the kitchen.

I wasn’t in a position to analyze why she had been down there with three of the men in my family, and even if I were, I didn’t care to dwell on it. The relief was palpable that she hadn’t entered a moment sooner.

“Go upstairs and change, Elena.” Nico’s voice was hard and uncompromising.

Did he honestly believe I would do what he said? God, he was so full of himself.

My eyes narrowed. “No.”

He ran his tongue across his teeth, and before I understood his intention, he had an arm around the backs of my thighs and my feet left the floor. A breath whooshed out of me as he tossed me over his shoulder.

“Guess I’ll have to do it for you then,” he bit out as he carried me to the door.

“Okay! Okay, I’ll do it.”

When he didn’t put me down, I struggled and tried to wiggle out of his grip. His arm tightened around my thighs like a vise and I couldn’t move an inch. He pushed open the swinging door and panic flooded me.

“Stop!” I hissed, hanging upside down. “I said, I’ll do it.”

“Ask me nicely.”

My teeth clenched. “Please, put me down.”

He dropped me to my feet in the foyer. His eyes flicked to the staircase, in that commanding way of telling me to get there.

“There’s something seriously wrong with you,” I told him as I walked away, my heart beating so hard against my ribcage it hurt.

He released a sardonic breath. “You haven’t seen anything, Elena.”

Truthfully, that’s what I was worried about.

“That was the beginning of the end of our thing.”

—Anthony Casso

“COME IN!”

The door of the penthouse on the twenty-second floor swung open, and Gianna stood on the other side. I didn’t believe that even someone who knew Gianna would be able to guess what she would wear next.

Tonight, it was a small black dress with a hem cutting diagonally from one hip to the opposite knee. Tall red pumps. Fishnet stockings. Wavy hair that was half-up, tied in two knots on the top of her head, and no makeup. Really, she didn’t need it.

“You’re early!” she exclaimed. Her eyes shone a little too bright, her pupils too large. She was high. Cocaine, most likely.

“I’ve brought some bruschetta and seafood salad,” Mamma said, moving into the kitchen with a tiny bowl of tomatoes while Benito struggled with everything else.

Adriana and I stayed in the hallway, hesitating.

Why was Gianna answering Nicolas’s door?

A sliver of something unpleasant curled in my chest, and for a split second, I didn’t like Gianna. The feeling was so strong and sudden I had to inhale a breath to push it away.

It was an unreasonably jealous reaction I shouldn’t have had, especially after yesterday. The problem was, I could still feel his hands on me, like I’d been branded for life. The only other man who’d gotten as close as Nicolas had a warm, gentle touch which faded to memory only seconds later. What I would give to reverse the two.

Adriana stepped into the apartment, her eyes taking it all in. “So, this is going to be my prison cell.”

Mamma gasped and spun around to shoot her a look. “Adriana!”

My sister walked further into the room with me following behind.