ProserpinaIt was Valentine’s Day, Camille had told me earlier that day, beaming from ear to ear as she walked about with the single rose her beloved husband, Antony Beston, who was also our Head of Security, had chosen to give her.I smiled wanly. Ria was off with her beloved Capo and I had not had the heart to break up those lovers.*I waited for my husband to return that evening but he had sent me a terse message that something had held him up. He did not turn up the next day and I worried whether he had seen Schwartz kissing me and had misconstrued the entire matter.Sighing, I brushed my hair out and prepared to go to bed. The kids, my triplets, that is, had gone away on a field trip. Melissa had come to tell me about it since she knew of how fiercely possessive Lucien was about the kids. She knew that he would not give the permission for them to leave Hollowford easily.But she had been excited and eager to have the children join the trip. Something about a writer who was visit
TaraShe glanced about her. Everyone was watching the play. Not everyone was interested in the action but it was a totally different experience all said and done. Not a darkened theatre, but a large, open hall with the sunlight streaming in through the windows. The actors moved about, some of them suddenly emerging from the audience, as the teenagers sat on the ground, on throws placed about the room, not conventional chairs. Tara glanced back at her siblings. Dom was watching the play, leaning forward, rapt and attentive. But Lou was sitting back, looking bored, his eyes wandering about the room.Her friend, Maddie was surreptitiously using another phone, this time, her own little red phone, sending and receiving messages. Tara marvelled at her daredevilry. The girl was so brave, daring authority at every step!She patted her bag; her phone was secreted away in a pocket within the voluminous bag which had been a gift from Piers and Ria. She hugged her knees and tried to concentrate o
Lucien Delano looked about as the phone pinged. His son Piers had sent a message. He frowned.His Woman lay beside him, along with the little son, all of seven months, at her breast, suckling greedily, for Proserpina made it a point to bring the babe into the bedroom for his morning feed. Lucien would never tire of watching the moment between his woman and their child, the babe tugging greedily at her teat and her look of love as she gently stroked the head of soft blonde curls.This one had also inherited his father’s colouring, she had remarked crossly.The baby’s fist was clenched tightly and Lucien used to force his thick, calloused finger into the tight fist, a feeling of wonder coursing through him as he watched his lovely wife, her body still fresh from his fierce lovemaking of the night before, as she sighed in contentment, in love, and held the child cupped to her breast lovingly.He had been kissing her, as they lay, content in each other’s company while the baby nursed at h
Lucien Delano was out of his chair and beside him in a minute, so quickly, that Piers had no time to react. His father’s large, calloused hands gripped his collar as he growled, his face dark with anger, shaking Piers as though he was no more than a leaf,’YOU BLOOD* PIECE OF SH*T! HOW DARE YOU BRING THAT MURDERING WH*RE HERE?’Piers felt a crescendo of emotions, fear at the look of undisguised fury in his father’s cold eyes, anger at hearing how he had addressed Hila. He wanted to defend the woman but his father’s near-death chokehold on his throat and then, a hard fist slammed into his face and he cupped his face, as the force of the blow sent him reeling.But the Capo and Claude had stepped in, urgently trying to prise open Lucien’s stranglehold choke on Piers. The younger man’s face was red, his breathing was labored as he tried to breathe. He felt the pain in his jaw, his eye was probably beginning to swell…All thought was drowned out in a flood of pain as his father began his o
ProserpinaShe stood, stock still, frozen as she listened to Claude babbling on the other end of the phone. Lucien had actually raised his hand on Piers?His own son?Her face hardening, Proserpina turned to the man who had brought her the phone, for Claude had called on a private number.'I need to meet my husband,' she announced crisply, her face flushed with anger.*Tara had been shifted to the bedroom in the house and she lay on the bed, sobbing.Her sister, Ria, came in after a while, looking serene and beautiful in her night suit.She crossed over to where Tara was sitting up, almost fearfully and held out her arms.Tara rushed into her embrace, hugging her sister fervently.‘I have been so stupid, Ria,’ she sobbed as Ria kissed her sister’s familiar-smelling head, the scent of something fruity reminding her how very young little Tara was.Soothing her sister, she pulled the younger one onto her lap and they sat there, Ria cuddling her sister as the younger girl sobbed her hear
Piers .He lay as one who had run a marathon. Spent and panting, exhausted.He had spilt his seed so many times in the woman he had been taking all morning. Repeatedly, again and again. he had flipped her over, fingering her clit as he drove his hard member into her, yanking her head back, a fistful of her silky black hair grasped in his fist, biceps bulging as he f*cked her ungently.And then, later, he had taken her tenderly, like lovers who had been together for a long while, lovers who were aware that they could not be together anymore, lovers on the verge of parting.Bittersweet, gentle, almost romantic?She had had a suspicious moisture in her slightly tilted eyes as she gazed at him, bending over him when they were done. She had trailed kisses down his hairline, that began on his chest and tapered down to his erect c*ck, licking his proud member reverentially.He had pulled her head up then, to kiss her again. She had pushed his shoulders down, forcing him to lie still as she s
The monk sat, crushing the can of beer, one of his weaknesses, in his thin hand. His hands were like claws but powerful in strength.Now he threw the destroyed can into the distance, not being aware of the loud sound it created.He was livid. But unlike Dusak, sex and then the killing, did not take the edge off his fury. He would use it, instead, to come up with another plan. But this time, he was a worried man.Lucien Delano had already smashed some of his hideouts within minutes of discovering how he had been playing the man’s daughter; had effectively shut down, using either force or coercion, some of the lucrative deals he had begun to cut with the drug lords around California and the other states. Of course, the Mafia Don had had the able support of the Cosa Nostra in this regard, particularly because he had been championed by the cunning barrister, Tristan Lord.The Monk scowled darkly and began to mumble, fiddling with his beads. To add to his miseries, the mad woman, the Assas
Ria looked up as the bed sank slightly and Philippe lowered his heavy weight beside her. She smiled sleepily, wrapping her arms around the man she loved as he nuzzled her neck, burying his face in her golden hair, inhaling deeply of her sweet, fruity hair. He loved this woman in his arms, he thought fervently as he gathered her in his large tattooed arms, holding her to his body and meeting her lips as she tilted her head to his, welcoming him.‘Baby,’ he breathed and she moaned as he trailed his hand down her body, feeling the curves, the slopes of her lissom body, the rounded breasts and the legs, parting eagerly as he moved to her neatly trimmed mound.“Argh…’ he groaned as he lowered her gently and rolled over onto her, his hand feverishly working on his zipper, waiting to take out the thick hard length that was throbbing with need.She was already taking off her t-shirt and he felt his balls tighten as he saw her body in the dim light of the night lamp, tempting, tantalising him.