Page 30 of Broken Mafia Prince (His to Break #1)
My door is pulled open, and the moonlight overhead allows me to see the tall man clearly. “Are you coming, or would you rather sleep in the car?”
“The car.”
He shrugs. “Suit yourself. Try not to drool all over my seats. They’re custom leather.”
“You’re a dick,” I say, stepping out of the car angrily.
Together, we make our way to the front door. There’s a keypad on the door, and he types in some numbers, too fast for me to take a note of them. The light on the sensor turns green, and there’s a clicking sound. He turns the door handle and pushes it open, motioning me inside.
As soon as I step inside the house, there is a whirring sound, and all the lights come on, almost blinding me. The inside of the house is clean and rustic, with a stripped double bed in one corner, a kitchenette in another, a small TV, and a door that I assume leads to the bathroom.
I stare at the bed in horror. There’s no way that a man of Raffaele’s size and I would fit on that bed without being pressed intimately together. A whole night spent that close to him sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.
I clear my throat and tear my eyes away from the bed, searching for a distraction. “Let’s get your wound looked at.”
“I have a kit in the cabinet.” He motions in the direction of the cupboard under the kitchen sink, and I go to retrieve it.
Raffaele joins me at the sink, and before he can reach for the button on his shirt, I slap his hand away and undo it. Everything around us seems to slow as that first button pops open, my mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara. I keep my gaze fixed on what I’m doing as I slowly undo the other buttons.
Finally, the two sides of his shirt gape open, revealing a tanned expanse of skin that makes blood rush to my head.
I lock my knees together as I pull the shirt off, feeling unbalanced at the sight of the row of abs and the V line disappearing into his pants.
For the first time in my life, I understand why a woman would want to trail her mouth down a guy’s stomach and drop to her knees for him.
My tongue drags over my lip, and I grab the box, flinging it open with too much force.
“There’s clean towels in the rack above.” Raffaele’s voice is deep, husky, and I feel it all the way to the junction of my legs.
I rise on the tip of my toes, unaware of what I’m doing until I feel my body sliding over his. My breath catches in my throat, and he lets out a hiss.
“Giulia.”
“I need to clean the area after I dig out the bullet. I know what I’m doing, okay?”
“I never said you didn’t.”
Ignoring him, I grab the forceps and locate the bullet in his shoulder before grasping it and yanking it out. A pained grunt slips out of his mouth, and I grab the bottle of alcohol to pour it over the site before I start cleaning it.
Halfway into the cleaning, his large hand settles on my waist, making me jerk in shock and press the bandage too hard.
“Fuck!” he barks.
“That’s a lesson not to grope your nurse,” I snap, cheeks heating. I tear out another bandage and lock the cotton wool into place. “All done.”
Silence stretches between us, our ragged breathing the only sound in the safehouse. My gaze is locked intently on the thin gold chain around his neck, too terrified to meet his eyes and hoping he’ll step away and break whatever this thing is.
“Look at me,” he finally whispers.
I shake my head. He reaches out, grasps my jaw in his hands, and raises my head until my eyes are on his. The burning heat I see in them robs me of my breath. I stand there, shaking, waiting for him to make a move.
He doesn’t disappoint. Raffaele drags me into a kiss that starts soft, tentative, questioning, and I melt into it like butter on a hot pan, letting him kiss me, moaning into his mouth with approval and a need for more.
My hands fly up, one raking into the short strands of hair at the back of his head while the other presses against his muscled pecs, feeling his heart thudding violently against my palm.
One second, I’m on my own two feet, the next I’m being picked up like I’m a featherweight. He reverses our positions, dropping me onto the countertop and stepping into the space between my spread legs. I arch into his hardness, eager to fill the emptiness inside me.
Raffaele’s hand cups my breast, and I whimper, frustrated by all the layers between us. As if he can read my mind, he grabs the hem of my shirt, and I raise my arms. Our kiss is momentarily broken to allow him to whip it over my head.
My body feels like a million sparks of current, like I’m being lit up over and over again. Like I’m burning alive, but god, it’s the best kind of burn.
He tugs the cups of my bra down, and my breasts spill out into his hands.
He begins to trail open-mouthed kisses from the corner of my mouth down to a spot on the side of my neck that makes me gasp.
He continues further down, until his mouth closes around my stiff nipple.
My back bows at the sensation of his mouth.
“Oh god!” I say, nails digging into his muscled back.
One of his hands closes around my other breast, squeezing and playing with my nipples.
“Raffaele, please,” I cry, body trembling at the sensation.
He doesn’t relent with the sweet torture, driving my body higher and higher until it feels like I’ll explode if he doesn’t stop, and yet, I know that I never want him to stop. My nails dig in so hard that I feel the skin beneath them break.
“More! More!” I plead, panting.
He unbuckles my jeans, and I raise my hips to let him push them and my underwear down to my knees. The cool breeze against the wetness between my legs makes me shiver, heightening my desire.
“Fuck, Giulia,” he grunts, staring down at my wet pussy. “You’re dripping for me.”
I nod eagerly, anything to get his hands back on me. His hand cups me, two fingers dragging up and gathering my wetness to my clit, drawing tight circles around the bundle of sensitive flesh.
“Raffaele!” I scream when he finally pushes two fingers inside me with no warning. I’m so wet that he slips in easily, and there’s only the briefest pinch of discomfort before sweeping pleasure replaces it, making me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt in my life.
I rock against his hands, chasing the incredible feeling as he begins to thrust into me, curving his fingers up with each push so that it’s hitting something inside of me that feels like heaven.
My screams and desperate cries turn into whimpers and soundless pleas as he continues to drive my body higher and higher.
Raffaele’s hot mouth crashes down on mine, swallowing my cries just as my body reaches the peak and I begin to crash back to earth. I throw my head back as white bursts of starlight go off behind my shut eyes, body trembling and shuddering with the force of my orgasm.
It’s when I come down from my high that I realize what I’ve done. I stare down at where I’ve leaked my juices all over the countertop. Shame and guilt wash over me, and I stumble away, almost face-planting.
Oh my god.
Raffaele reaches out and tries to catch me, but I jump away from his reach, catching myself on the nearest surface. “Don’t touch me,” I squeak, pulling up my jeans.
He stills, staring at me like I’m a rabid animal.
His chest rises and falls, his nostrils flaring.
A moment later, though, a wall slams down on his expression, and he stares at me with a blank gaze.
“I’ll go sleep in the car. Someone needs to keep a lookout anyway.
There are sheets in the cabinet. The Wi-Fi password is in the bedside drawer, but I’ll warn you to be careful about giving out our location. ”
“Raffaele—”
“Goodnight, Giulia.”
I flinch when the door snicks shut. My stomach feels queasy as I stumble to the bed and crawl into the unmade mattress.
My hands are shaky as I send a text to my dad and Isa, letting them know I’m fine, before turning off my phone.
My cousin will immediately know I’m far from okay if I try to call her, and I need her to maintain my lie that I’m still with her if Father calls her.
Pulling my legs up, I curl up into a ball, staring into nothing.
I stay up for too long waiting for Raffaele to come back and hoping he doesn’t.