Page 11 of Claimed By the Possessive Mafia Prince

DARIO

T hat night, my dick is in my hand. I stroke up and down as my mind returns to the kiss, the softness of her lips, her personality evident in the way she pressed herself against me.

Hungry, eager, and yet reserved, guilty. Classic Siena.

In the fantasy, the kissing progresses, and soon we’re lying on a bed of palm leaves. She pulls her dress up, rustling it around the tempting, mouthwatering thickness of her thighs. Her honey eyes urge me on as I free my steel and guide it to her underwear, spots of wetness making me savage.

“I want you,” she moans.

“Then stop pretending you don’t.”

“It’s not as simple as that.”

I groan as I push her underwear aside, revealing her wet slit. In reality, I’m pumping my cock hard, precome gliding up and down my length, my girth aching as an explosion threatens to erupt.

“Is this what you want? Just a fuck?”

“What if I want more?”

The fantasy feels vividly real. I can feel her soft skin, taste her breath on my lips. When I slip inside of her, it’s like I can feel the heat of her perfect pussy wrapping around me. I thrust, gliding deep, and she responds by bucking her hips and grinding her hands down my back.

Soon, I can’t take it anymore. I pump my hand even harder.

Hot come erupts out of me, shooting onto my stomach, rivulets of release running between the gradations of my abs.

Standing, I step into the en-suite and take a quick shower, then wrap a towel around my waist and walk onto the balcony of my room, looking up at the sky of stunningly clear stars. I wonder what Siena is doing right now, if she’s thinking of me, if the kiss meant as much to her as it did to me.

The next morning, I get my answer.

I wake early and go for a run, enjoying the heat and the sweat coating my entire body. As I jog past the collection of buildings that serve as the hospitality wing.

I spot Siena leaning against the wall, twirling her hair around her fingers.

She looks beautiful–no shock–and there’s something unmistakably flirty in her body language as she leans toward a tall man. The man says something, and she laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

What are you doing? A sensible voice growls in my head as I approach. Are you going to start a fight over this?

Siena looks up, honey eyes getting wide for a moment. She bites her lip as she avoids my gaze. The man turns as he hears me approach. He’s almost as tall as I am, a handsome fella with bronze skin and dark eyes.

“Can I help you, sir?” he says.

I stop, realizing I haven’t got a plan, except I don’t like the way Siena is laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

Do you hear yourself?

Neither of them answers. Pure shock and confusion cover both their faces.

“Excuse me?” the man finally says.

“Care to share the joke?”

“We’re discussing an order of flowers for the vow renewal,” Siena says stiffly. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Suddenly, I feel like a jackass. Perhaps this feeling should’ve come much sooner. Siena’s kissable lips are frowning at me now instead.

“No,” I grunt.

I jog away, but stop when Siena calls my name. She hurries after me, the early morning sunlight dappling her bare thighs, the sunscreen on her skin making her glimmer.

“What the hell was that?” she snaps.

“Who was that guy?”

“Didn’t you hear? I’m trying to get some flowers fast-tracked, since everything on this trip is determined to go wrong.” She pauses. “You know you can’t start getting jealous and weird after one kiss, right? It was just a kiss.”

Maybe to her. What was I even thinking?

“What was that?” she repeats.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you’re thinking something.”

“So you’re a mind reader now.”

She huffs. “If you want to be a jerk, that’s fine.”

I watch her go, tempted by the roundness of her ass even when she’s mad at me. She looks over her shoulder, a split-second smile, before she remembers she’s supposed to be mad. “Are you seriously checking me out now ?”

“Can’t help it, I’m afraid.”

“Douche.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

I keep jogging, picking up the pace, breathing through gritted teeth as I try to get the image of Siena flirting with another man out of my head. It’s not like she’s wrong. I’ve got no right to get possessive so soon.

After a few minutes, I spot my godfather and the consigliere, Rocco, standing at the shoreline with his hands in his pockets. I walk up beside him.

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

He runs a hand through his thick hair and sighs.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Just business,” he replies. “I’m thinking of home.”

“It’s only a week. The city won’t fall apart without us.”

His eyes get a distant look. “I hope you’re right.”

“Maybe you should’ve tried to persuade Father not to do this.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not saying that. Your father is the Don. If he made this choice, it’s the right one. Anyway, he doesn’t…”

“Sorry?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing.”

“You know your father, Dario. He carves his own path.”

“He listens to you when it counts, Rocco, you know that,” I say. “You’re not just his consigliere. You’re his – our – friend. You need to lighten up.”

He smiles. “You’re right. But it’s my job to worry about the Family when your father’s mind is elsewhere. Anyway, you’re the one with a face like a slapped ass.”

“You’re lucky I don’t have my gun on me, slinging words like that.”

We both laugh.

“Seriously, my oh-so sensitive godson, are you okay?”

I shrug. “Yeah, good.”

“But?”

I look out at the water, the shimmering diamonds of sunlight bouncing like skipped stones across the azure.

“It’s this girl. Siena.”

“Yeah?”

“We kissed.”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“This morning, I saw her talking with another man, and it pissed me off. Much more than it should have. We hardly know each other, but when I saw her laughing with him, I got angry, Rocco, really goddamn angry.”

“What’d you want with this girl? Some island fun? Something more?”

“She doesn’t even know we’re in the mob,” I sigh. “I shouldn’t even let myself think about something more. What am I supposed to say— Hey, Siena, want to go on a date when we get back to the States? Just ignore the men in suits following me around with guns under their jackets… ”

“You could tell her you’re a politician.”

“I don’t want to lie to her,” I say. “If anything happens, I want it to be real.”

“I’ve never known you to talk like this about a woman.”

I shrug, stare out at the water some more. It’s not like he’s wrong.

“Could it be that part of you likes her not knowing who you are?” Rocco suggests.

I say nothing.

“Maybe it’s nice not to see fear in her eyes. Or awe. Or something in between.”

“You’re right. On this island with her, I almost feel like a normal man. But I’m not, and I never will be, and she can’t know that. So I need to accept that if anything happens, it’s the here and the now, that’s it.”

“But you want more than that.”

“Calm down, Rocco. I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I barely know her.”

“But you want to get to know her.”

“You’re changing the subject,” I say, clapping him on the arm. “We’re supposed to be talking about the fact that you’re determined to be a miserable bastard even though we’re in paradise. Let’s go get some breakfast.”

He smiles tightly. “You’re right. I could use a distraction. But you know I’m here to talk if you need.”

“I always know that. And remember, just because Father’s distracted right now, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t respect you. You’ve served him, and the Family, well, old man.”

He chuckles. “Old man? We’re almost the same age.”

“There’s a big difference between fifty-eight and thirty-seven, hate to break it to you.”

He punches me on the arm. “Now you’re the lucky one. If I had my gun…”