All Chapters of My Neighbour's Wife: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Green eyes filled with tears. Fingers clenched around my bicep. One word. Please. I knew death, knew it by its darkness and the seductive chill it sends before its appearance. I summoned it on some occasions, feeding more bodies to hell than I can remember. It was our way. For famiglia, no sacrifice was too small. But it wasn't I who called for it this time. I understood, more than Valentina or Papa could comprehend that there was no fleeing from it. Blood had been shed and there would be payment, only in blood. I'd seen it that night when Mauro's body fell beside me. The madness in the don's eyes. The excitement. I knew it then and I understood it when he blew off two more of my fingers for taking her to that motel. There was something about the woman that turned him into something carved from bloodlust and darkness, giving into the viciousness of the Visconti blood. Wheels turn behind Papa's eyes. He's always cherished Vale

I propel myself, sweeping low and wild, and a shot zings past my ear a moment before I collide with his torso, the force behind the movement strong enough to knock the gun from his grasp and send us tumbling into the grass. He snarls, ripping me off him and I gasp as my back hits the ground. He’s searching for the rifle, reaching--It is pure animal instinct that drives me forward, and I leap at his exposed back, wrapping my arms around his face, nails scraping at his eyes and my legs locking around his torso. He shoves back, thrashing angrily in a bid to get me off, but I cling to him, heart pounding, chest heaving as I struggle viciously to claw out the bastard’s eyes. Heavens. If I get out of this alive, I’ll take fighting lessons.He slams us back into a tree and the hit rattles my skull, loosening my grip on him slightly as stars explode behind my eyes. His fingers claw at my hands, my fingers, and I feel a burst of blind panic when I realize I’m losing him.So I jerk forward and

Violence never really was a last resort for me. It is a language I speak most fluently. There is art in destruction, a discord that often strikes me as beautiful. Like the splatter of blood against walls and floors. Like a broken body, mangled beyond recognition. It was amusing, usually. But tonight, I only feel rage. No one knows, but I think most clearly when I’m in the rage. I see colours more brightly and can almost taste the fear of prey. Viciousness and inhumanity blur lines on those days. It is why I rarely let my emotions get the best of me. But someone crossed the line tonight. I wasn’t lying when I told Susanna I had work tonight. No. I have scores to settle. Blood already runs down the length of the knife in my grasp. It belonged to the guards outside. They died too quickly, too quietly, nothing at all like Susanna’s scream for help earlier. Can’t stop hearing it. Can’t stop seeing the fear in her eyes as she races for me. Can’t stop hearing her ragged sob

Nonna rouses from sleep the moment my socked feet hit the floors. She’s always been a light sleeper, frighteningly agile for her age as she reaches underneath her pillow in a flash and aims too accurately for my head. She blinks then, twice, her eyes focusing and she hisses, lowering her hand. “Foolish boy. I could’ve killed you.”I laugh, even if I feel foul. I strut over to her bed and don’t quite meet her gaze as she takes note of the blood on my face and the black gloves covering my fingers. I sit on the floor by her feet, the movement almost natural, reminding me of the days I would sit in this same spot, watching her pace as she tried to figure out how to deal with a mess I created.It was either I came here or went straight home after the kill, still fighting off the high that came with it. I didn’t think I’d be able to control myself if I found Susanna sleeping in our bed.Home. Our bed. How odd, the comfort those words bring. “Whose blood is it, stellino mio?” “Ri

My fingers thrust into his hair and he grunts his approval as he licks every inch of my bundled nerves, parting my folds with his silky, hot tongue. I scream when he nips at me, tugging at his hair tight enough to hurt, but he licks the ache away until my hips begin to undulate.He moves lower and pushing his tongue all the way in. Moans, deep and guttural, escape the back of my throat. I feel wanton, erotic, beautiful, even womanly as he opens me up with his mouth. He lavishes me, teasing me with his lips and tongue. It feels like every drop of blood in me body has pooled in her clitoris. I could die if I don’t come soon. My moans turning into pleas at the unbearable ache..But then he increases the pressure, pushing in two fingers and rubs my soft inner walls. My head drops back against the couch, my mouth watering while he masters me with his mouth. Possesses me. With his fingers his spreads me so wide, exposing me wholly to himself. I want to scramble back and hide. But there is n