Chapter thirteen: the don’s desperation

Aria's pov

I drifted in darkness.

Weightless. Boneless. Cold.

The world was slipping away until something harsh broke through the dream.

A door.

Banging open.

Boots slamming stone.

And then his voice.

"Valente." Low. Dangerous. Like hot steel. “Valente…”

The darkness began to fade little by little like eve it feared Nero.

I felt hands—strong, calloused—clamping onto my frozen shoulders. Yanking me up like a rag doll. My head lolled, heavy, useless.

"Fuck—she's ice." His voice broke. Snarled. "She’s fucking ice—"

He shook me hard. My teeth clicked. My head flopped sideways.

"Wake up!" His hand smacked across my face—sharp, hot. It burned. A line of fire on my frozen cheek. But I couldn’t answer. My limbs hung limp, my breathing shallow and faint.

I heard the panic in him.

The terror.

"Not like this..." Nero muttered, dragging me against his chest. My naked skin met the solid heat of his clothed body. My cheek pressed to the silk of his shirt, his scent—smoke, spice, danger—invading my nose.

"No, no, no... you do not get to die on me, wife."

His hand gripped my hair in a tight, painful way. His other hand patted my face, over and over. "Open your fucking eyes. Now."

My lips parted. No sound. My breath came out soft and white against his neck.

His body shuddered. I felt it.

“Goddamn you,” he hissed, lifting me in his arms fast and panicked, pressing me so close I felt the rapid thump of his heart hammering against my frozen breast.

He moved fast as he stood up, his steps hard and shaking the stone beneath us. Up the stairs. Through halls. Doors slamming.

“Get the doctor!” Nero’s roar split the air like a beast. “Now! Or I swear I’ll put a bullet in your fucking skulls!”

I heard men scrambling, terrified.

But Nero didn’t wait.

He kicked open another door.

Warm air hit my skin like fire. I whimpered, the sensation too sharp, too fast. He laid me on a bed—his bed—his scent in the sheets. Soft, dark, masculine.

He stripped his jacket off, yanked his shirt over his head, and crawled on top of me, dragging my frozen body against his blazing skin.

His heat. His life.

“Stay with me, little wildcat. Stay right fucking here,” he growled into my ear, his breath hot on my frozen skin. “You don’t get to die. Not until I’ve ruined you properly.”

I shivered violently, shock setting in, the cold leaving in painful waves.

His hands gripped my breasts, kneading roughly, forcing warmth back into my flesh. I gasped weakly at the friction, the overwhelming burn of life returning.

“Come back, Blake. Come back to me…” His mouth was at my throat now, biting, sucking, forcing blood to the surface. “I didn’t break you yet... I haven’t finished with you…”

His hand slipped between my thighs, cupping me possessively.

Even now.

Even when I was dying.

“You’re mine,” he growled, fingers sliding cruelly against my slit which was icy and numb. “You won’t leave me. I’ll drag you back from hell itself.”

His warmth... God, it hurt. It was like prick of fire under my skin. My muscles spasmed. My legs kicked weakly.

“N-Nero…” My voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.

His head shot up, eyes wild, pupils blown, terrified.

“There she is,” he breathed. “There’s my defiant little bitch…”

His lips crushed mine in a bruising and savage kiss. He poured life into me with every ragged breath, every touch.

“I’ll kill you myself before I let you die like this,” he snarled against my mouth. “You don’t get to go. Not without my permission.”

The doctor burst in but Nero didn’t move.

“Out,” he barked. “I’ll warm her. I’ll bring her back.”

“Sir—she needs—”

A gun cocked.

“I said out.”

The door slammed shut.

Nero pressed tighter, grinding his bare chest against me, forcing my frozen nipples into the heat of his skin. His cock—thick, hard—pressed against my belly.

"Feel that?" he whispered darkly. "Your body still wants me. Even dying... you still burn for me."

His hands massaged my arms, my thighs, hard and fast, the friction drawing out whimpers from my throat.

I hated him.

I needed him.

My hips jerked weakly against his.

“That’s right…” he purred, lips at my ear. “Fight. Suffer. Live…”

I sobbed as sensation returned fast, raw and pleasurably.

"Warm for me, Valente... open those fucking eyes and look at your husband."

I gasped.

My lids fluttered. Heavy. But I forced them open.

Those eyes stared down on me in a sexy way that made my clit jump. A sheen of sweat on his brow. His jaw clenched tight.

"You scared me, little wife," he murmured, dragging his thumb across my trembling lip. "No one gets to do that. Not even you."

His fingers curled under my chin, lifting my gaze to his.

"Next time you defy me... it won’t be cold that breaks you. It'll be me. And you’ll beg for it."

A shudder ran through me.

Desire.

Fear.

Both.

"Stay awake," he ordered softly, deadly. "Stay, or I swear I’ll fuck you alive right here just to keep your heart beating."

The door creaked.

“Sir—the hot bath—”

“Bring it here,” Nero snapped. His gaze never left mine. “I’m not done holding her.”

He cupped my face, forcing me to stare into the molten fury of his eyes.

“You think you can escape me?” His voice was low. Dangerous. His fingers slid down my throat, squeezing just enough to make me gasp. “This is what happens when you try. You freeze. You die. Unless I save you.”

I whimpered softly, my body torn between terror and wicked, aching heat.

His thumb slid over my nipple which were hard and sensitive now making me moan despite myself.

His smile was dark. Sinful.

“You live because I let you.”

He kissed me again in that slow, cruel, possessive way.

And I knew the truth.

I was lost.

To him.

To this.

Forever.