Page 10 of Italian Mafia Boss's Virgin Lover
“I—”
His grip tightens and he slams my hand above my head, pinning me, unyielding. He holds a candle of his own, and it paints him in red and orange and beautiful gold. His face is full of pain.
“You shouldn’t be here. Was that not made clear to you?” he bites out. When all I can do is stammer, he shouts, “Was it not?”
“It was!” Shame twists inside of me, tears springing to my eyes. “I’m sorry. I was only curious. I didn’t know—”
“Didn’t knowwhat? That it was forbidden?” His voice is pure venom, his grip on my wrist bone-breaking. “What are you looking for, Dani? Hm? What did you think you would find in here?”
I’m terrified of him. And at the same time, some naïve, foolish part of me is almost relieved he’s back. Like I summoned him by breaking the rules. “Answers,” I whisper. It’s all I can manage.
“If you have questions, ask them,” he growls, stepping forward. I gasp as his knee slides between my thighs, as his eyes rake over me, inscrutable and burning. “Speak.”
“Who—whose room is this?”
“A dead man’s,” he mutters. “What else?”
What dead man? Why does he matter? Who areyou, really?
Should I be afraid of you?
“Ask,” he says through gritted teeth. “Or were you only poking around to anger me?”
“What? No!” I’m shaking, his leg burning between mine. Something is awakening in me, something terrible and unfamiliar, a deep, carnal want I’ve never felt before. “I don’t mean to anger you.”
“No?”
“No!” And Idon’tmean to. He frightens me. He’s unpredictable. One moment soft, almost tender, the next blazing like an inferno. “I promise.”
“Are you the kind of woman that keeps her promises, I wonder? I am to marry you, and I don’t even know you.”
“Yes,” I whisper, suddenly desperate to prove it, desperate for him to believe me. If only to save my neck. If only to divert his anger. “I keep my promises.”
“How sorry are you, Dani?”
My breath hitches behind my ribs. I know I don’t imagine the way his dark eyes find my mouth. It’s quick, a reflex. It makes my knees weak. “I’m very sorry.”
“Show me.” He releases me suddenly, stepping back. “Show me your contrition.”
Quaking, petrified, I don’t know what he means. Until his eyes glide to the flagstones, and then back to mine. My heart stops, but there is a certain guilt in me, and an eagerness to please him, to understand him. To earn something of his, like respect.
Understanding, I sink slowly to my knees and bow my head.
My heart is beating too hard, a fist against my ribs. I wait, trembling, until he places a hand on my head. “You’re a strange woman, Dani. Stand up.”
I do, startled when he helps me, rough hand warm around mine. As I find my feet, he pulls me against him. I stifle a gasp, hands flying to his hard, powerful chest. I look up into his eyes, unsure what I see in them: black fire, a storm—and something else.
Want.
“Do I frighten you?” he asks, his voice a low growl I feel in every rib.
“Yes,” I whisper, honestly.
“Do you like it?”
I feel my eyes widen, my lips part. I don’t mean to say it. “Yes.”
His brow furrows, his free hand splayed and burning on the small of my back. “You’re trembling again.” His hand seeks the hem of my sweater. I gasp as his warm palm slides over the cool, bare small of my back. I feel my eyes flutter shut, a horrible pleasure raging through me, culminating in a pure heat between my legs.