Page 38 of Runaway in the Mafia (The shadows of Cosa Nostra Chronicles #3)

His cigar dropped to the floor. I didn’t even think he stamped it out.

This man was a walking fire hazard to any property.

His free hand grabbed my head and cocked it to his.

His lips meshed with mine. Harsh. Punishing.

He kissed me like he’d rather kill me. Another digit joined in, and he slammed into me like he wanted to break me.

I should have hated this. Not moan and wiggle along the wall in a desperate need to come. This was him. His way of showing me his frustration. I should stop this. My hips rolled to his. I couldn’t stop myself from grinding against the thickness, fast growing behind the zipper of his pants.

“Pull your top down,” he demanded, and I obeyed.

He twisted me half off the wall and latched on to a nipple, sucking it in like a starved man. When he pulled away, he’d made an artwork of bite marks. He looked at it with an animalistic contentment before dipping his head again. Like he wasn’t quite satisfied with the result.

My vision caught on his dark, bent head on my breast, his tousled hair soothing my heated skin, and something ignited within me. My muscles started to clench, and my vision hazed. Right at that moment, he pulled his fingers out.

I groaned, frustration pouring out of every pore of my body. This was the only thing I could have, and he held it away from me.

“I should fucking punish you for running away.”

“But you’re not?” Shame and disgust ran through me at my hopeful tone.

“No,” he growled before he fumbled with his zipper.

His erection lined my entrance, nudged through my lips and plunged inside.

He was thick and hard. I couldn’t bear it.

The adrenaline of the day caught up. Emotion overwhelmed me.

Tears brimmed in the back of my eyes and I was coming all over him.

He hadn’t even moved. But this feeling. Why did it feel like coming home?

“One more,” he muttered before I’d even come down from my climax. He gripped my hips, yanked them back, and pounded into me. The room filled with the sound of sex. It was slick and hard. And filthy. It crawled on the wallpaper and resonated along the hardwood floors.

Shame was what I should have felt. Shame for wanting this man.

But all I felt was lust and desire and need.

Need to hold onto this forever. He was uncoordinated.

Hard. Messy. His balls slapped against my ass.

The noise heavy. He latched his teeth onto my neck and groaned into my skin.

The next second, he was coming inside me, his erection jerking, and that pushed me to clench around him.

We were sweaty, wet. Clothes half off. Our breathing thunderous. His hands on mine trembled. I wasn’t sure if it was the vibration of his hand or mine.

Behind me, he pulled out. The rustle of the zipper and metal being buckled in brushed my back.

I was still holding on to the wall. Unable to get myself to pull away.

Unable to move without the guidance of a hand.

I was terrified I might have just collapsed to the floor if I did.

He came up behind me and snapped my underwear back into place.

“Now it can be soaked with my cum,” he said, his tone filled with satisfaction, before he snapped my face to his and kissed me hard. “Mine.” He bit my bottom lip, and I tasted copper in it. “Fucking mine.”

Then, as if he’d felt my legs give away, he tipped me over his shoulder and made for the door.

The thing was, nothing about it surprised me anymore.

He didn’t utter a single word. Not one for the entire drive from Naples to Sicily. He drove for ten hours with his jaw tight and fists clenched. The only stops were at gas stations and dry food stuffed in my hand.

In one of those stops, reality sunk in past the cum in my underwear and his heady smell next to me.

The clock was ticking and Rajesh’s word’s haunted me.

So in a horror-filled daze, I walked past the ladies’ restroom and out the back door.

I might have walked a whole of thirty feet before I walked into… him.

“Going somewhere?”

My jaw dropped. Words evaded me. But he answered my unvoiced question without losing stride.

“Witchcraft. Nothing but witchcraft for my witch.”

He strode up to me, closed my mouth, yanked my arm and dragged me towards the car.

“I want to pee,” I yelped when he shoved me inside.

“Yeah?” He rubbed a hand on his tight jaw. “Should have done that before you tried to run away. Again.”

The door slammed, and the car shook from it.

When he got in on his side, he had an alternative for me. “Better pee in the car.”

“You’re a lunatic, you know that? I’ll ruin your car, not to mention my dignity.”

His eyes flashed with insanity. “Lunatic? You try one more time to run away, I’ll fucking burn through everything I own to hunt you down.” He laughed a dark, humourless laugh. “Lunatic. You haven’t seen the beginning of it.”

I wasn’t sure if it was that or my dignity, but I held my bladder.

He let me out five gas stations further and followed me all the way inside to the ladies’ restroom and hung out the door.

You’d think at least one of the women in there would protest. Not a single one did.

With dropped jaws and gobsmacked eyes, they drooled all over him while he held me hostage.