Page 30 of Claimed By the Possessive Mafia Prince

SIENA

I toss.

I turn.

Sleep feels a million miles away.

It’s two AM, but I feel wired. A little piece of me hoped Dario would visit me once he had handled his business. I’m not sure what he could say or do to make any of this okay… but something?

Climbing out of bed, I pull on a T-shirt and some shorts, slip on my sneakers, and head out the front door. Nico is sitting on a chair outside my room, snoring as his chin rests on his chest.

I sneak carefully past him, wincing when a section of the pier makes a creaking noise.

“Where are you going?” Dario’s voice comes from the darkness at the end of the pier.

I narrow my eyes, see his shape standing on the sand.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Keeping watch on you,” he says as if it’s obvious. “Now, answer my question.”

“I need to clear my head.”

He steps into my path when I try to walk past him. Like a shield blocking my way. Or protecting me. Or both.

“Does that seem like a good idea considering the circumstances?”

“Probably not, but I’m doing it, anyway. I can’t sleep, and I’m sick of staring at the walls.”

“I’m coming with you then.”

“Suit yourself.”

We walk along the beach. I shiver, then laugh when he slips off his shirt and drapes it over my shoulders.

“You’ll do anything to show off your muscles,” I mutter, hugging his shirt around me.

He makes it so hard to stay mad at him.

“I’m just happy to hear you laugh,” he says sincerely.

“I shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“You’re a stranger.”

“I’ve heard that before…”

“This isn’t the same as before,” I tell him. “You’re not just a ‘oh he’s cute and interesting but we’re from different economic worlds’ stranger anymore. Now, you’re a ‘I wonder how many people he’s killed’ sort of stranger.”

“I’ve never killed anyone,” he says bluntly.

“Do you expect me to believe that?”

“I’ve broken bones, beaten people to a pulp. I’ve threatened. I’m no angel, but so far, I haven’t been forced to take a life.”

“But you would.”

“If it came to it, if a man gave me a good reason, then yes, I would. But I wouldn’t relish it.”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” I huff.

“I’m just happy you’re talking to me at all.”

“It’s against my better judgment.”

“Then let’s hope your judgment stays poor then …”

I try not to respond to his smirk, but it’s difficult. “I shouldn’t believe anything you say,” I tell him. “Maybe you’ve killed dozens of people. How would I know any different?”

He suddenly takes my shoulders. When he grabs me, there’s no fear. It’s not like, holy hell, this mafia guy is going to hurt me. It’s just… Dario.

“I swear, Siena, I will not lie to you. Never again. You can ask me anything.” He leans closer. “Anything…”

The kiss is magnetic, a hunger inside us both, beyond reason, beyond common sense. I slip my hands around his naked torso and feel the taut, hard ridges of his solid body.

I don’t let it last long. It’s just a taste, but my body is hot all over, scorching with his closeness, wanting more. Tickles tease my sex, and a warm glow moves through me.

“What do you do in the mob, then?” I demand as we keep walking.

“I’m a business manager. I claim territory the legal way–through the acquisition of legitimate businesses. When I claim an area, I try to clean it up as much as possible, so that the price of the real estate and the success of the business increase. This cleaning up…”

“It can get nasty?” I guess.

“If a bunch of drug-dealing gangbangers don’t want to move off a corner they think they own, that’s when I have to let it out.”

“Let it out?”

“Me–the other side.”

“Like you did on the phone.”

“Yes,” he snarls, taking my hand.

“But how do you get the money from the businesses? Drugs? Prostitution? Trafficking?”

“No,” he says, sounding disgusted.

Our walking naturally takes us closer to the tree line, the leaves whispering in the wind above us.

“How then?” I demand.

“In the early days, before my time, there were protection rackets, intimidation, shakedowns. But then the Family built up enough of a surplus of cash that we could move into what we do now. Blackmailing rich bastards who can take the hit, political connections, and, mainly, legitimate businesses… backed with the threat of violence if need be.”

We stop walking again. He leans against a palm tree, smoothing his hand through his hair. In the moonlight, the silver threads are more obvious and alluring.

“I’m not saying it’s good, Siena. But as far as Families go, we’re the best of the bunch. I’m able to sleep every night knowing that if it weren’t for the Bianchis, someone far worse would run things. They’d deal hard drugs, hurt women, kids, civilians. They’d cross the line.”

“But not with you in charge,” I mutter.

“I don’t expect you to take this all in now. You don’t have to decide.”

“About what?”

“If you still want to speak to me. Be with me.”

“Be with you,” I repeat.

“Don’t say it,” he growls, kicking away from the tree, grabbing my hips in that addictive, body-tingling way. He sinks his hands hungrily, like he can’t get enough of my body. “ We were never going to be together. It was just a fling. Blah blah blah . Don’t say it–you don’t mean it.”

“Oh, really?” I mutter.

“Really,” he says fiercely. “There’s something here. You feel it too.”

“Is this the part where you fall to one knee and propose to me after a few days?”

“You sass me like you’ve forgotten I like when you do that.”

I wrap my arms around him again. “It’s a fair point, Dario.”

“I’m not saying I need to make you a mafia princess or that you have to pledge yourself to me or that we’re going to do some goddamn blood-brother-style ritual in a dark room. I’m just saying… don’t run from me.”

“This always had an expiry date.”

“It doesn’t have to. And even if it did, not tonight, Siena. Not now.”

He slides his hand down to my ass. If I were stronger, maybe I’d slap him and tell him to get away from me. I’d tell him he has no right to touch me like this after concealing such a dark truth.

But he makes me weak, disarms me in a way I never thought possible. I grip his side, feeling my fingernails bend.

He crashes his lips passionately against mine. My moan gives the pleasure away. He smirks through the kiss, laughs huskily. I moan again, pull myself tight against him, rocking my hips when I feel his solid manhood against me.

“We need to get back to the room,” he groans. “Right fucking now.”

“No.” I gasp. “Let’s just…”

I want him to say it.

“Here?” he moans.

I’m afraid that if we go back, I’ll come to my senses.

He looks intensely at me, and must see I’m serious.

Somehow, I laugh when he lifts me up. My legs wrap around him on instinct. He carries me deeper into the trees, into almost total darkness, then takes his shirt from me and lays it on the sand.

Still carrying me, he sits down so that I’m straddling him, his hands sliding over my ass as he rocks, grinding the solid outline of his thickness against me through our clothes.

We consume each other desperately, a kiss like we’re fighting for breath, like the more we kiss, the less we have to think.

When I twitch my hips, he sinks back and smooths his hands up my body, massaging my breasts through my shirt.

“Fuck, that’s hot.”

“You like when I ride you?” I prop my hands on his bare chest, feeling his thudding heartbeat through the hard sheet of muscle.

“You’re perfect.”

As I rock on top of him, even with our clothes separating us, I feel so sexy. Maybe the sexiest I’ve ever felt. My eyes adjust to the low light, and I see him looking at me like I’m all he’s ever wanted. He stares like nothing else matters.

And maybe, for now at least, it doesn’t.

He shudders as he slips his hands under my shirt, over my bare skin, his touch tickling and teasing as he smooths his hands under my bra and presses down on my bare breasts.

“Oh, fuck ,” he growls, his dick twitching in his shorts.

I sit down heavily, grinding my core up and down his length through our clothes. My body is burning, fire clearing away the doubt.

He gently caresses my nipples. I push my hand against his through my shirt. Lying my hand atop his to make the contact closer.

“That feels…”

“Yeah?” he groans.

“Yeah, Dario. Oh… yes .”

He keeps massaging, then sits up to kiss me again. It’s like fuel to the heat of our passion, our mouths wide open, our tongues eager. Each caress relegates my concerns to a deep recess I don’t have to think about.

“I need you,” he groans. “So badly.”

“Then take me,” I whisper.