Lonesome Dove Trilogy

His gaze pinned me against the wall, his breath hot against my skin. “Tell me, Little Dove… you feel something for me, don’t you? No more dodging. I want a clear answer.” “Why? B-but I'm your brother's wife.” I managed, my voice steady despite the thundering in my chest. “Fuck that. I want a straightforward answer, so my stance can be clear,” he murmured, leaning in, lips hovering over mine. “Either to steal you from my brother, or…” “Or get over me?” I whispered. He pulled back sharply, his dark eyes narrowing dangerously. “No. Either to steal you from my brother… or take him out of the picture." I stared at him in shock and disbelief. ********************* “I’m going to tell you what I have in mind,” he murmured. “First you’re going to strip down until you’re completely naked,” he whispered against my ear. “Then I’m going to tie you up so you’re completely powerless and subject to my every whim.” “Then I’m going to insert a plug to prepare you for me. After that, I’m going to spank that sweet ass of yours until it’s rosy with my marks.” I shivered uncontrollably, my mind exploding with the images he evoked. I let out a small whimper as he sucked the lobe of my ear into his mouth. God, I could cum with just his words. I was already aching with need. My nipples tingled and hardened to painful points. My clit pulsed and twitched between my legs until I clamped my thighs together to alleviate the burn. I’m going to take you hard and rough, to the very limits of what you can withstand. I won’t be gentle. Are you ready to be completely dominated?"

I stepped closer. Close enough to smell his cologne—cedarwood, leather, and power. My hand moved. Smooth, practiced. The pistol slide from under the apron into my palm. I raised it fast. But before I could pull the trigger— BANG. Not my shot. A scream tore through the restaurant as another man launched himself toward Romano’s table, blade flashing. Another assassin. What the hell— Romano didn’t flinch. He shoved the table forward, knocking the attacker off balance. The blade scraped across wood, not skin. I ducked instinctively as the room erupted into chaos. Gunfire cracked. Glass exploded. People screamed and dove for cover. “Get him out—NOW!” one of the guards barked. I aimed for the second attacker. Didn’t even hesitate. One shot—head. Gone. The guard saw me. Confusion flashed in his eyes. Then rage. I ran. I weaved between overturned chairs, plates, and screaming bodies. The smell of blood was real now, thick in the air. One of the guards grabbed me. I slammed my elbow into his ribs, twisted, and brought the butt of my gun down on his skull. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Out. I had to get out. My boots pounded the floor as I tore through the narrow hallway. But then— “Elisa.” His voice stopped me cold. I turned. Antonio Romano stood in the middle of the carnage, suit untouched, blood spattered behind him like art. His eyes were on me. And he was smiling. It was darker. Slower. Like a hunter seeing something worth chasing. Somehow, he knew who I was. “Interesting,” he said softly, tilting his head. “They sent you.” I didn’t answer. I ran. But that voice followed me. He knew my name. And he let me go. This wasn’t over. It had just begun.