Page 12 of Hustler in the Mafia
“No.”
Her shoulders stiffened, and she took a step into the room.No. No.“What if I want to?”
“Want to what?” I growled.
“Fuck you.”
Well, fuck me!I wanted to jump off the bed and crawl all over her. Instead, I fisted my hands on the sheet and thinned my gaze at her. “Swear to God, woman, there’s no going back from this. No running away and definitely no sucking another man’s dick.Sì?”
Her hands clenched on the bottom of my shirt and crushed it into a million pieces. I sighed. Who was I kidding? This wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t going to allow the guard she’d put up around her to come crashing down because I fucking wanted her. “Go to your room,la mia piccola cocco,” I said softly as I dropped back to my bed.
“Why?”
Jesus.Could she not take a hint? I covered my face with my hand. Breathing in. Praying for patience and, for once in my life, to do the right thing. “Why what?”
“Why do you want me?” Her voice rang thin and uncertain in the room, and the air cleared around me, showing her fears and discomfort. My eyes were closed, but it felt like I was looking into her soul.
My hand slipped off my face, and my gaze met hers. Tension thumped in between us like the drums of a tribe. Want ached inside my soul, desire burned so hot that it was palpable and pulled like a cord between us. Underneath all that was a need that pulsed. One I couldn’t really put my finger on.
A gentleman would quote poetic words and lure her in with promises. I wasn’t a gentleman, and I wasn’t a liar. My voice was hoarse when I spoke, like I’d spoken a million words before. But they were stretched to the limit, hoping they showed her my soul. “Fuck if I know. Maybe because you remind me of myself. Is that good enough?”
She nodded, her head bobbing up and down slowly, her brown eyes big pools on her face. The room was quiet, and the energy drained out of me like the blood water out the drain a few minutes ago.
“Now go,la mia piccola cocco.” I swung my forearm on top of my eyes. Couldn’t make the effort to watch her go.
The door swung shut, but the sound of her bare feet padding towards the bed rippled through to my heart.
“You sure about this?” I mumbled through my closed eyes. I couldn’t say I didn’t try.
“Yes.”
Hell yes.I lunged towards her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
FLORINA
Cacat!
The ‘yes’ I uttered burned the front of me like a blast of hot desert air.
His gaze was so intent it made my heart do a slow dance. One heartbeat was all I had to catch the look in his eyes. It sparked and thundered like a dark storm. The next heartbeat, he lunged for me, and I landed on his bed, flat on my back. Only this time, he was on top. Big, naked, and hard.
I bit my lower lip to put a stop to this intense feeling rushing through me. Stop the rush of pleasure with pain. His eyes shimmered, and before a breath could be released, his lips landed on mine.
A long time ago, I shared my first kiss with my first and only boyfriend. It lasted a day before he threw me out, but he was Italian. Tobia. His was the only kiss I had ever enjoyed. My memories exaggerated the pleasure, and I never thought I would find anything that could equal it. It paled drastically, like faded ink on ancient paper, because this man…Fuck.I think this washis job. Kissing was his job. Because he excelled at it like he’d studied it at some fancy college. He wasn’t gentle or soft. He was harsh and hard. Intense. He pulled my lips into his, and he bit like I was his favorite dessert and he was too greedy to wait. Then he came in for the kill and slid his tongue inside and, fuck me. How was I ever going to go back to normal again? He took my breath, blasted it with heat, and stuffed it back so that my insides burned like molten lava. Agitation, hot and needy, sparked through my veins and pulsed like an insistent ringing in between my legs.What the fuck was he doing?My hands were wrapped around his body, and there was a needy cry like a cat in heat bouncing off the walls.Cristo. I think it was coming from me.
I didn’t even know this man’s name, and I was…Wait!
I put my hands in between us, pushed him off, and managed to create a distance of a few breaths. His breathing was harsh and rough and mingled with my own painful gasps.
“What?” His tone grated on my skin like sandpaper.
“Your name?”
He frowned at me like I’d gone insane. He was right. I sucked off men who I didn’t want to know. But I wasn’t going to be my mama and fuck a man whose name I didn’t know. “I don’t know your name.”
“Cazzo,”he groaned, pushing up to his knees in between my legs. His hands gripped my naked thighs, his shirt bunched between his fists. He dragged his eyes to mine and dissolved me into a quivering mess under his warm stare. “Marco Bova,” he said softly as if his dick wasn’t an inch away from my pussy. As if we’d just met at a fancy party.
