20

FALLON A wicked chuckle rumbles in Leone’s throat as he toys with the barrel, unyielding steel sliding in and out of me, building up friction. My shirt hitches up, revealing the tender bare flesh, and his hand clamps on my breast with a bruising intensity, making me cry out. He revels in his depraved game, the gun’s barrel a cold intrusion that buries deep inside me. His free hand inches my shirt upward, further revealing me more to Milo as he kneads and teases my breast ruthlessly. “One,” Leone murmurs into the deafening silence, his eyes ablaze with raw lust. His hand moves lower, settling on my lower stomach, and his thumb moves, finding its way to my clit. The sudden contact sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through me, contorting my features into a mask of confused desire. “What is it, bella? Suddenly death scares you, or is it knowing how you’ll die that is scaring you? I promise there will be nothing quick about it, but there will be pain,” Leone states. I glare at him. His eyes