Page 13 of Claimed By the Possessive Mafia Prince

DARIO

“ W e’ll get your sheets wet,” she says as I gently push her onto the bed.

“Do you think I give a damn about that?”

My length has never been harder, the tension turning it into a thick pole of desire. Her swimsuit clings wetly to her body, her large breasts and wide hips making my balls throb, her thick thighs turning me into a madman.

She heard too much. And she looked scared of me… But somehow, it seems she’s agreed to let it slide. For now.

It’s more proof this can’t go anywhere though, isn’t it? I focus on the moment. Let the future take care of itself.

Leaning down, I sink my hands into her still-wet thighs, groaning as I feel her fullness. She gasps and props herself on her elbows, looking up at me as I kiss up her thighs.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” I growl, kissing higher and higher up her legs, getting closer to her core.

“We can’t.”

“But you want it.” I bite down softly on her leg, and she moans and lets her head fall back. For a long, beautiful moment, she shifts her hips against me, urging me to keep going. “No–Dario. Just kiss me again.”

“You’ll get no arguments from me.”

If she wants to take things slow, I’m cool with that.

I lie down atop her, pushing my groin between her legs, letting her feel how wild she makes me through the thick hardness of my dick. She grips my face with both her hands, kissing me passionately.

Grinding against her, the tip of my dick grows hot, burning and eager as instinct roars at me to free myself and grind against her soaked pussy. She moves her hips in time with me as our kissing intensifies, becoming more urgent, more passionate.

When I slide my hand up her leg, meaning to press the heel of my palm against her core, she reaches down and grabs my wrist.

“We have to stop,” she whimpers.

“No, we fucking don’t.”

I glide my hand closer, and closer to her center.

“Dario…”

“Do you want me to stop–really want me to?” I demand.

She bites her lip, then shakes her head with an unmistakable look of desire.

For a blissful moment, I push my hand against her. I can feel her folds through the wet fabric of her swimsuit. Se moans in shock… then she pushes against my chest. Hard.

“Stop. Now.”

There’s something different in her tone, something real. She’s not playing around anymore.

I stand up and take a step backward. It’s the only way I’ll be able to calm down after so much closeness with her.

She sits up, rubbing her hands up and down her legs. My first instinct is to stare at her creamy thighs, but then I catch the uncertainty on her face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Everything about this is wrong.” Her scowl shatters something in me. “I’m here to work, not get carried away with…” The impossible. A distraction. A mistake. What, Siena? “This.”

“This,” I repeat.

“Us, this, whatever it’s supposed to be.”

“You can work and have some fun.” Or more than fun, but I don’t say that. I’m not even sure what it means.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I have to be selfish. Not for me. For my mom.”

“That sounds more like selflessness.”

She sighs. “I just want to do a good job and earn some cash, and make a name for myself, then help my mom. That’s it. That’s the complete story. The start, the middle, the end.”

“She’s lucky to have you. But if you expect me to stop being attracted to you, Siena, you’re just plain wrong.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to do anything about it.”

I approach her, take her hands, and pull her to her feet. “The way you moan when our bodies touch tells a different story…”

She wraps her arms around me. Kisses me. It’s like she can’t help herself. I know the feeling.

After a moment of perfect heat, she creates some distance again.

“I don’t want to make the same mistake.”

“What mistake? What are we talking about here?”

“Maybe if I explain, you’ll let me go?”

“You’re not a prisoner here, Siena.”

“You’ll stop pursuing me?”

“I can’t promise that.”

She huffs. “It was prom. I wasn’t even that interested in going, but my best friend insisted. She didn’t want to go alone. It was a double date. I wasn’t excited, so I would’ve skipped it. But I went.”

“What’s so wrong with that?”

She stares with tears in her eyes. “I was supposed to be helping my mom that night. The business was taking off. It was her biggest client yet. Old Money, like you and your family.”

I swallow, guilt stabbing me. So early in the relationship–or whatever this is–and it’s already built on lies.

“I figured Mom would be okay, since she had two staff members by then. But one of them got sick, and the other was off his game all night. I left Mom to deal with a nightmare on her own. It went bad, and the client didn’t just withhold payment–they spread word around the city.

They slandered her. They ruined her reputation, and that I turn ruined her business.

All because I wanted to go to prom. All because I put myself first.”

“You can’t beat yourself up, Siena.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I can. And I do. And that’s why I’m going to do everything in my power to do the best job possible here, so I can make it right. That means we have to stop.”

“I think you can date and do a good job.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree, won’t we?”

She makes for the door. I take her hand, turn her. Uncertainty flickers in her beautiful, honeyed eyes. When I pull her against me, I think she’s going to sink into the kiss for a moment, but she takes a firm step back.

“Find someone else for your island fling, Dario.”

“There is no one else.”

She rolls her eyes. “Are you serious? I’m sure you can find someone.”

“Is that really what you want–to see me with someone else?”

“It’s not like we’re a couple.”

“That’s not what I asked you, Siena.”

She clenches her hands into fists. There’s something cute about it, but I know better than to say it with so much tension in the air.

“I can’t think about what I want or don’t want,” she says with a hard sigh. “Maybe you think I’m being over the top or melodramatic.”

“I never said that. I didn’t even think it.”

“I refuse to repeat history. I’ll never forget the look on my mom’s face when I came home from prom.

She didn’t get angry. Didn’t blame me. But I could see it in her eyes.

She was disappointed. She wished I’d behaved differently.

However, she didn’t say it. She asked me how prom was.

If I had a good time. She’s never blamed me. ”

“That’s because it wasn’t your fault. You were a kid.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not a kid anymore. Please, Dario.”

She leaves the hut, and I sit on the bed, dejected. We’re not a couple…

She’s right. I can’t argue with that. But she’s being too hard on herself. She deserves happiness, pleasure, and no matter what she says, she’s happy when we’re together. When we kissed and touched, she couldn’t hide her pleasure.

Would it be the decent thing to let her go? Even the thought of letting her go implies that I have her, which I don’t, not yet. Hell, I just want her to relax a little, to understand she can have it all.

More than anything, I don’t want her to beat herself up.

She deserves better than that.