Page 121 of Dirty Mafia King

He grunts behind me, and we eat in uncomfortable silence.

“Fine,” he finally mutters. “We fuck about until you’re wed.”

Like he had no part in this. Like I bent him to my will rather than the other way around.

“No one will know,” he relentlessly continues.

“I’ll know,” I seethe.

What was I thinking? I offered him all my firsts and played with fire. And he evidently won’t be satisfied until he’s watching me burn.

“Say yes.” He uses that voice, the gravel-filled seductive one that draws me in, before tossing gasoline on top. “And I’ll roll you back, stuff my face in your pussy, and lick away the pain I’ve caused.”

Promising me orgasms, when I want … need … so much more.

I spin, and lock eyes on him. “I never had a father’s love or protection, which is why I’m attracted to powerful men.”

His eyebrows knit. He doesn’t understand I mean him and only him.

“I yearn for stability, to be taken care of, to give up control completely to the right man. I’m not ashamed I like it rough. Or enjoyed your spankings. Or got turned on by allowing you complete control.”

He looks ready to pounce, and I rush to finish. “Everyone has weaknesses.”

“Enough,” he growls. “Clearly I’m overthinking—”

“Ambition,” I cut him off, “is your weakness. Same as my father.”

The hairs on my arms stand in warning.

I don’t hesitate, and bolt toward the door, with the island running interference between us.

“I’m nothing like that asshole.” He dives across the surface, sending plates flying, but his reach is shallow. Recovering quickly, he rolls off the counter and onto his feet, then is within reach in seconds. His hands find my hips. I’m spun around and shoved into a pantry door.

“You’re right,” I manage.

“About?” Hands on both sides of me, he cages me with his big body. I want more than anything to sink into the heat coming off him. But he’s reduced me to toast that’s quickly crumbling into tiny burnt pieces. Something you toss onto the lawn for the birds to eat.

“Honoring promises,” I remind him. “Like the promise I made your son by agreeing to marry him.”

He’s livid, and I’m suddenly afraid. He can toss my engagement in my face yet hates that I do the same?

My body shakes with outrage. “‘Little Alessia better do her duty, or else.’”

His fist rises, and I jump when he punches the pantry door. “Enough.”

Not yet.

“No.”

“No?” he repeats, astonished. Probably doesn’t hear that word enough.

“The apple can’t fall far from the tree, right?” I cock my head and glare at him. “Sandro can show me what I need.”

He jerks back like I’ve scalded him. I hope I did—I hope my declaration burns deep. But I’m not foolish, and seizing the opportunity, I hastily duck beneath his arm and flee.

A litany of curses follows me down the hallway.

CHAPTER44