Page 51 of The Beast Who Bought Me
“Nothing at all. I’m just the dress-up doll, right? My opinion doesn’t matter.” He laughs as he says it, and Benedetti laughs as well.
As though it’s a joke.
Benedetti turns to me expectantly. “The choice is yours, Mr. Orsini.”
Smooth bastard. I pick up the sample. Imagine it lying over the Clemenza’s body, soft and supple.
“It’s not traditional,” I hedge, because I’ve just seen the tiny price tag on the back of the sample. “I’ve never seen a tux made out of something like this.”
“It is true, the Vanquish II is more delicate than the heavier cloths usually chosen for formal wear. It drapes beautifully, but it will show wear sooner.” Benedetti pauses. “And of course, it is averypremium product.”
Meaning that it’s too good for the likes of me. “Use it,” I bite out.
The tailor packs up his tools, but before he leaves, he turns to the Clemenza one last time. “It was truly a pleasure seeing you again, Signor Clemenza,” he says, and he fucking means it. He turns to me and gives a slight nod of the head. “Mr. Orsini.”
The little prince’s smile is radiant despite his nakedness, despite the cage, despite everything. “Thank you for your time, Lorenzo. I’ve enjoyed myself very much.”
After Benedetti leaves with a promise of miracles, the Clemenza leans over to take up the robe once more.
I reach over to snatch it away from him. “You won’t need that. It’s back to the basement for you.”
He just gives an elegant shrug and walks ahead of me to the elevator, still naked, still caged, still carrying himself like royalty even in defeat. I feel my desire and my hatred for him crystallizing into something beautifully vicious.
Caligula Clemenza is desperately in need of correction.
And I am going to take pleasure in providing it.
CHAPTER 20
DAMIANO
In the elevator,I lean in close enough to smell his skin, stinking of the soaps and shampoos thatI’veprovided for him. “Enjoy your little reunion?”
“Very much.” His eyes meet mine in the mirror. “It’s a pleasure to be reminded that there are still civilized people in New York.”
When the elevator reaches the basement, I place my hand on his lower back and push him forward—not rough, but not gentle, either. “Now you’re back where you belong, golden boy.”
“Indeed,” he says with a laugh. “Back in this sad attempt to own someone else’s legacy.”
It’s the amusement that gets to me. “Are you laughing at me?”
He turns and gives me a long, insolent stare. “Why, I’d never dare,” he drawls.
I step closer. “Did you enjoy your little performance up there? Playing prince for your preciousLorenzowhile wearing my cage around your cock?”
“That’s the difference between us, Orsini. I don’t have toplayat being anything. I am who I am. Nothing will change that, no matter how far into the gutter I fall.”
I want to drag him down to my level. Make him roll around in that gutter andenjoyit. “You think you impressed him with your good breeding and fancy fabric knowledge? All that tailor saw was a whore in chains desperate enough to spread his legs for someone like me.”
“I haven’t spread my legs for you, though, have I? Makes me wonder if you’re having a little trouble downstairs.”
I’ve got no hang-ups about that, so the arrow goes wide. “I don’t dip my dick in poison. But since you enjoyed performing for an audience so much, maybe Ishouldinvite the tailor back. Give him a real show. Let him see exactly what kind of services you provide these days. Give him a turn, too?”
He gives a theatrical sigh. “I’m sorry I wasn’t properly humiliated. I’ll try to grovel better next time. Can I go back to sleep now, or?—”
I cross the room before he can finish, fast enough that he actually backs away—one step, two—before I seize his arm and drag him to the bed. I sit, haul him across my lap, and ignore his startled cry.
“We have unfinished business, Caligula Clemenza.”
