Temptation's Edge

Sienna's POV

The sound of things being thrown, Katya and Mrs Lucci shouting at someone, woke me up out of my nap. 

I was exhausted, having finally gotten Mateo down for his afternoon nap only an hour ago. And now all the commotion might wake him up.

Groaning, I forced myself out of bed and trudged out of the room and into the foyer.

"What's going on?" I asked, noticing that Katya and Mrs. Lucci were currently shouting at Tristan in our native tongue, a group of Tristan's men surrounding him like an animal being hunted.

A bottle of hard liquor had been thrown, glass and bourbon all over the floor and wall.

What's he pissed about now?

I wasn't the cause of his anger. Not this time. At least I don't think so. But just to remain cautious, I kept my distance.

Angel pulled me back around the corner so Tristan couldn't see me. "You shouldn't be out here right now," he whispered. "It's not safe."

He would peek his head around the corner every once in a while, I assume to make sure things haven't escalated even more.

"What's wrong with Tristan?" I whispered back.

Hazel eyes drifted back to me. "Tristan's drunk. And whenever he gets like this it means his father is coming back."

"His father?" I repeated.

I have yet to meet Mr. Lucci. But based on how kind Katya and Mrs. Lucci are, I always just figured that Mr. Lucci would be the same.

Angel nodded. "Mr. Lucci and Tristan have a very complicated relationship. Which Tristan will have to explain to you himself when he's not causing havoc in the house."

"Wait, should I be worried?"

He didn't make eye contact as he spoke.

"Truthfully, I'm not sure. But right now, you need to focus on getting Tristan to calm down."

"What!? Me?" I whisper-yelled. "Why can't one of you do it? You know he doesn't listen to me."

He peered around the corner just as something else went flying. It looked like a vase.

Angel's gaze eventually returned to meet mine. "Whenever Tristan drinks he goes through three stages. Rage. Anguish . Lust. And since he's already experiencing rage, it's just down to anguish and lust."

"In that order?"

He shook his head. "We never really know which one he will experience next. But you better hope it's anguish, because when he's horny he's... well..."

"Well what?" I urged, feeling like Angel wasn't providing me with enough information.

"Uh nothing," he said quickly. "Just... good luck." He gave me a small smile, before shoving me back out into the spotlight before I could get anymore information out of him.

"Wait! Angel!" Tristan froze, his eyes now locked on to me. I bit my lip. "Cazzo(Fuck)," I mumbled, wishing I could be invisible right about now.

I didn't know which one he was experiencing now, but I was really hoping it was anguish.

Oh please let it be anguish.

Tristan moved quickly towards me. I had no time to react as he lifted me up and slung me over his shoulder like a rag doll.

He caught me off guard, a squeal forced out of me when his hand came down on my ass. He gave it a squeeze, my eyes wide and a blush of embarrassment painting my cheeks as everyone stared at the two of us.

Please kill me now.

"Tristan, where are you taking me?"

He said nothing. He just continued carrying me down the hall until we reached his room. He kicked open the door before shutting it with his heel and literally throwing me onto the bed.

A grunt was punched out of me as my body came in contact with the firm yet comfortable mattress beneath me.

It wasn't until I looked in his eyes that I realized which stage he was currently experiencing.

Lust. 

Great. Just great.

Tristan started stripping out of his clothes, pieces of his suit being tossed everywhere.

His amber eyes darkened, the color nearly the shade of dark brown as he sauntered towards me in only his boxer briefs.

The corner of his mouth curved up into a lopsided smirk, the menacing smile reaching his eyes.

I held my hand out, trying to stop him from doing whatever it is that filthy little mind of his was cooking up.

He didn't stop.

"Tristan, no."

He still didn't stop.

I tried to back away when he reached the bed, but he grabbed my ankles and forcibly pulled me down towards him.

He lowered his head, his hands caressing up and down my thighs. I used my foot to push on his chest and shove him away.

He faltered back, the smile on his face curling down into a pout. "Come on bellissima(beautiful), I just want a little taste."

"No, you're drunk. And I'm not in the mood."

His hands roamed my body, a soft moan surfacing. Gliding his hands up my arms, he took my wrists and pinned them above my head.

Hovering over me, he leaned down and kissed my jaw. I turned the other cheek. He pushed his head into the crook of my neck and inhaled. "Fuuuck, I want you so bad."

He rocked his hips back and forth, rubbing his erection against the heat pooling in between my legs. I was trying so hard to suppress the sounds of pleasure trying to escape me.

When he tried to kiss me, I swiftly pushed his face with my hand. "Your breath stinks, Tristan. Ugh, how much did you drink?"

He completely ignored me, his focus now on getting me out of my clothes. I grabbed his hands when he started unbuttoning my jeans.

I couldn't hold in my laughter when he began blowing air on my exposed belly. "Tristan..."

"Mmm," he hummed. "Say my name again."

"No. Go take a shower. Preferably a cold one."

He nodded, only hearing what he wanted to hear. "Yeah, let's go take a shower." Taking my hand, he ignores my protest and pleas as he pulls me to my feet and heads for the bathroom.

He then turns on the shower and I'm immersed underneath the rain of warm water, even though I kept trying to tell him that my clothes were still on.

"Tristan!" I scolded, my clothes sticking to my skin, my nipples peeking through the now transparent material.

He pressed his index finger to my lips, shushing me. Dipping his head, he licks my nipple through the thin, wet fabric of my solid white tank top.

Being as I was still breastfeeding, my nipples were sensitive to Tristan's touch. I moaned, his

tongue lightly flickering over my perky, brown nipple.

I feel so dirty right now.

And the reason is because I didn't want him to stop. As a matter of fact, I wanted more. I wanted more than what he was giving me, but knew I wouldn't be able to handle it. Not while he's in his current state.

So I took his face in my hands and made him look me in my eyes. "Tristan, we can't do this. You're drunk." And even if he wasn't intoxicated, I still wouldn't sleep with him.

Because sleeping with him would give him hope he doesn't need. I'm not staying here. I don't belong here. I belong back in my apartment with my son and cat. 

And speaking of my kitty cat, I really miss Loki. My neighbor knows I work all day, so she usually keeps Loki in her apartment until I get back.

Since Loki is such an attention whore, he can't be left alone for more than a few hours. Though I haven't been back in days, so she's probably wondering where I am.

"Please don't make me stop," he begged softly. "You don't know how much I crave to have you again."

Looking into his eyes, I bit my lip, my mind and body fighting to make a decision. My mind is telling me to care for him while he's inebriated. While my body on the other hand, is telling me to care for him by giving him this kitty.

I can't make a decision. And it doesn't help that he's standing there looking so damn sexy.

Moving my hands, I shift them down to grab his arms and maneuver us around. Pushing him gently, he leans against the wall, water pouring down and drenching his hair.

I turn the knob on the faucet, so the water temperature is cooler. I try not to look at the erection resting against his thigh in his underwear as I step away to grab a rag out of the closet and return to bathe him.

Skating the soap filled rag over his bare chest, he groans lowly, the sound reverberating through my fingers and down the length of my arm.

Once I'm done with his upper half, I squat down to work on his lower. My eyes widen, my face so close to his cock.

I'm tempted. Tempted to feel him between my fingers and taste him on my tongue.

I look up at him, my eyes filled with a desire as strong as his own.

He growls. "Don't look at me like that, mia cara(my dear)."

"Like what?"

My tongue flits out to moisten my lips before disappearing back in my mouth. I tilt my head, my breathing all over the place.

Tristan is staring down at me, half drunk and half sober, his eyes still burning with insurmountable lust and desire.

His fingers curl under my chin, his thumb tracing over my parted lips as he says, "like you want to be fucked- thoroughly."

"That's because I do," I admit.

"So what's stopping you?" 

"Fear."

And because he's drunk.

He retreats, a look in his eyes that I'm unfamiliar with.

I wasn't just afraid of him, but afraid of falling for him. I haven't felt the touch of a man in so long. And I couldn't imagine letting anyone else touch me after the way he had. 

I eyed the bulge in his underwear once more, oh so tempted to take his cock into my mouth. I almost give in until that voice in my head stops me.

What the hell are you thinking about, Sienna?

He's drunk.

And you have an infant to worry about!

My mind and body clash, my mind winning in the end. Standing up, I rinse him off and lead him back into the bedroom.

Drying him off the same way I had bathed him, I'm back on my knees, his imprint taunting me.

I'm about to stand up so I can get him a dry pair of boxers from out of his dresser, when a knock sounds and the door is opened.

Mrs. Lucci shrieks, quickly covering her eyes. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I just-"

"It's not what it looks like!" I try to defend, even though I know there's no point in even trying to explain myself.

From her perspective, I was on my knees with her son's dick in my mouth. When really I had been simply trying to dry him off.

"No, no. It's okay." She refuses to make eye contact, her hand still over her eyes. "I just came to check up on you two, but I can see that you're busy." Flustered, Mrs. Lucci slams the door shut, the sound of her scurrying footsteps loud in my ear as they recede.

I smack Tristan's chest with the towel. "What the hell, Tristan!? Why didn't you say anything?"

He shrugs as if what happened didn't just scar me and his poor mother for life. "I like seeing you on your knees," he replies nonchalantly.

I roll my eyes and look away from him, just as flustered as Mrs. Lucci was.

That's the second time his mother has seen me in such a predicament. I should just jump out the window and end it all. That way I won't have to face her tomorrow... or better yet, ever again.