Lust, Lies, and Forbidden Ties ✵ h.s.

✵ ten ✵

     The voice caught me entirely off guard. I was quickly turning around, my eyes wide with how close he was to my body. At first, I was totally fine, but I stumbled back slightly and managed to land on my ass. Everything in me was burning with embarrassment, and I felt sick to my stomach at the idea that he had, indeed, found where I was. He held his hands out to me and I just glared up at him, not trusting the rude man that was in front of me.

"Amato, I'm just trying to help."

With my actual name, I still was hesitant. It was obvious that he knew I didn't like his little pet name, especially not after I had learned the true meaning behind it. Looking over his hands, I noticed that he had several rings on, the idea of that kind of intimidating to me for some odd reason. I had seen men with rings on before, but for some reason they just radiated a sense of power and dominance that a man without rings on couldn't achieve.

"I'm trying to help you up."

Hesitantly placing my hands in his, he pulled me up gently. Once I was standing on my feet, he let go of my hands, green eyes staring down at me. They were dark, and I felt as if I wasn't even supposed to be in his presence. Then again, he had been the one that came looking for me. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I went to walk away when he grabbed my wrist, the man keeping me there.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

"I'm not staying witha dick like youuu," I told him, shaking my head.

"Mi piacerebbe infilare il mio cazzo in te," he stated lowly. (I'd like to put my dick in you.)

Almost instantly, my hands were covering his mouth, his eyes lighter. I felt a smile against my palm, and while I hadn't planned on touching him in any way, my immediate reaction was to cover his lips the moment that the other language left his mouth. My brain was far too gone for me to listen to him speak Italian, and so I told him just that.

"No, no, noooo," I complained. "No Italian. Not allowed here. No. Ita hurtsa mya heada."

He chuckled against my hands, his own fingers wrapping around my wrists. I watched as he pulled them away from his mouth, green eyes still a lighter color than they had been to begin with. We were both kind of quiet, and I felt scared and anxious about the idea of what he could possibly say to me.

"What will you do if I don't speak Italian?"

"Um, hmm," I started, shrugging. "I'll make you sucha big cake. Like, giant!"

"Preferirei molto che tu succhi il mio cazzo." (I'd much rather you suck my dick.)

"Noooo!" I whined, cupping his cheeks and shaking my head. "No more, no more, no more, Harry. Nooone."

He just laughed, his hands resting on top of mine. We stood there for a while, and I could tell that I was definitely drunk if I was letting the rudest man I knew hold me close to him. Or, rather, I was staying close to him. It was my choice, and for some reason, I didn't mind him as much as normal, even if I had tried to run away from him.

"You're too drunk to stay here. Let's get you home."

He asked me to my phone out of my purse, leaving me to do just that. I didn't understand what he was doing, the man in front of me asking me to open it for him. Shaking my head no, I didn't like the idea of Harry going through the device, however, he took it from me, taking my thumb, and placing it on the home button to unlock it.

"Rude! That is so rude!" I whined.

"It's not rude, it was smart."

Groaning, I tried to get it back from him, but he just held me off with his arm. Trying to fight back, it definitely wasn't working, Harry clearly the winner in this fight but I definitely wanted to try my best. It was maybe five minutes of him having my phone before he slipped it into my bag, the man in front of me clearing his throat before speaking.