Page 53 of Runaway in the Mafia (The shadows of Cosa Nostra Chronicles #3)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

AHANA

H e was right, of course. The only marriage I knew was my previous one to Rajesh. The first week of it involved zero sex and plenty of family visits. It was like Vitale knew all about it and was determined to cartwheel it. We had plenty of sex and zero family visits.

He kept me inside the house, and no one visited us.

He didn’t go out to work, and he demanded that I take time off.

Instead, he buried himself inside me. It was like he was determined to keep me occupied.

Not that I had anything to complain about.

He took me on every surface he could find.

On the marble floor, held up against the wooden staircase railing, against the glass windows in his spacious living room, on my knees on the black oak dining table.

One time, he’d eaten me on top of his vintage office desk, while on a Zoom call with his brother-in-law.

Audio, but still, when I said the man was a lunatic, there was no exaggeration on my part.

But what did it make me? That I’d come on his desk while biting into his palm.

For my sake, I hoped Lorenzo had been too distracted to notice anything out of sorts.

It was an obsession. Like any obsession, this was downright detrimental. It was going to kill us if we kept at it. My body ached. In a rough, tender, passionate, harsh, can’t walk in a straight line kind of way. He pounded into me like he wanted to imprint on me.

There was a darkness edging his possessiveness.

I felt it in his grip. Saw it in the glint of his eyes when he followed me.

It should have filled me with fear. Rajesh’s obsession had nearly ended my life.

But Vitale’s… there was something rich and addictive to it.

It made me feel desired. Made me melt like hot wax every time he touched me.

He told me he hated people in his house.

He told me he hated the light streaming in.

But he allowed me to be and let me open up all his beautiful curtains and let the sunlight in.

It made me feel powerful. Like I was vital to him.

Made me wrap around him like a koala bear when he held me.

No man had ever wanted me like this. Like I was a necessity.

The only thing keeping him alive. Like all he needed was me, to survive another day.

On the fifth day of our marriage, breakfast had been served.

It included me, wearing his shirt, spread out over the length of his kitchen counter and his face buried between my trembling thighs.

He took my clit and sucked it in. Somewhere in my hazy vision, annoyance vibrated.

He ignored it. I slipped down further and smoothed his head to my core.

I was close. The vibration stopped. And restarted.

“Fucking hell.” He pushed off me, his glare angry.

Entitled. Like I had called him. I frowned.

If only his arrogance were a climax kill.

Then I wouldn’t be so deep in this mess.

He yanked his phone out of his pocket, looked at it, and let out a stream of Italian before stalking off.

I heard him yell in the hallway. His rude tone needed no imagination to be decoded.

Maybe it was work?

I pushed off the foot of the counter, slithered back up, and reached for a grape. I didn’t want him to go away. On the other hand, I really had to call Delhi, and him buried inside me twenty-four seven wasn’t giving me any opportunities.

My skin heated. I picked my head up to pinpoint the source of it darkening the doorway. He was staring at me intently. Suspiciously. Guilt sank into my rib cage. I should tell him. We can figure out a way out of this. Right?

My indecision disgusted me. Each day that went by made me lose a part of myself.

The worst part was that the only one responsible for it was me.

But I couldn’t get myself to open my mouth and tell him my secret, or to press the button and call my parents.

I hated myself. A long time ago, I’d thought I was strong.

The truth was the reality of life had shown me I was nothing but a coward.

For how long could I keep this hidden from him?

I opened my mouth, words stuck in my windpipe, thought twice about it, and sealed it off for the thousandth time.

It didn’t seem like the right time. Coward.

His mood was volatile. He stormed over to the counter, banded his hand around my ankle, and yanked me to the edge.

I shrieked.

He split my legs wide like his personal scissors and growled at my wet core. “I’m going to kill the fucker.”

“Who?” I choked.

“Don’t know. The first person I come across for making me go out.”

Right. There was no way I was telling him. He’d probably light a fire to my parents’ gated villa with them in it. He didn’t seem like he’d keep anything a secret to save my family’s reputation.

“Have to leave,” he muttered bitterly with his gaze still pinned to my core.

“Okay.”

Then he yanked me further and pulled me up. An explosion of animalistic kisses bruised my lips. It didn’t look like he was leaving anytime soon, given the thickness behind his pants. I pasted myself on him, wrapped my hands around his neck, and ran my nails all over his naked chest.

“Have to go,” he muttered.

“Okay,” I murmured.

He pulled away. His eyes were a cocktail of emotions I was too drunk to read.

The intent way he stared at me sent goosebumps of unease along my skin.

When he dipped his lips back to mine, everything had changed.

His lips were soft. Almost subtle. Silk on silk.

He tugged the collar of his shirt off my breast and suckled.

Soft bites, lazy licks and sweet nips on my nipple.

I groaned. My core clenched against his zipped erection.

This was so different. So unlike him. I couldn’t decide what I preferred.

Both had me groaning into his mouth and humping against him in desperation.

I dug into his pocket and took the silver foil out.

Breaking off him, I tugged it between my lips, ripped it off, and took the rubber out.

He stroked my hair and kissed the nape of my bent head unhurriedly.

He’d either forgotten that he had to leave, or it wasn’t important.

I lined the rubber up with his swollen head.

The warm rasp of his voice hit the dip behind my ear. “You’re going to be the end of me.”

My skin broke out in goosebumps. Terror crowded into my chest. I didn’t want anything to be the end of him. I squeezed the rubber onto his thickness, hands trembling. He waited patiently, his shirt riding up to my breast as he ran his hands from my hips to my chest.

“It’s done,” I exclaimed, leaning back, blinking away stupid tears.

“Best fucking job,” he murmured before tugging me closer and wrapping my legs around him. When he sank into me, there was more weight in it than any of the other times he’d taken me. It felt like he was giving me the whole of him. Naked. Bare. All only for me.

His gaze on me hummed with an emotion that made my lungs ache for my next breath.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he groaned before he pulled entirely out.

The emptiness he left behind was agonising.

I chased after him and pulled him in. He groaned, buried his lips in my neck, and pushed inside. “Don’t come until I tell you.”

“Don’t think I can,” I moaned.

“You can do anything you put your mind to.”

Those words alone made me bite my lips and hold tight.

He moved slow and deep. He lifted his head off my neck and cupped my face.

His eyes on me were so sharp. Too intense.

Guilt twisted inside me. A chunk of me broke off.

I had to tell him. I didn’t want to hold it.

I tried to break off. He didn’t let me. “It’s not easy,” I sobbed.

His thumb ran along my lip. “I know.”

We both knew we weren’t talking about coming. Sweat beaded down my back. My insides clenched around him.

“Please,” I pleaded, tears running down my face.

“What do you want? You know I’ll give it to you.”

“You. Just you.”

Conflict played across his face. Then he shifted his speed to hard instead of soft.

My toes curled. My nipples were hard points of cold metal against his hot naked abs.

My chest filled with a surge of emotions.

Need. Pain. Guilt. He wrapped his hand around my cheek and delivered a hot demand, curled with need. “Come for me, baby.”

My lungs emptied of a deep, intense moan. It slithered up my throat and split into the air as a half-concealed sob. I squeezed around him. He jerked inside me. My toes tingled and a hot flush burst through my body as I came with him, riding a wave of the most intense pleasure.

I fell back against the counter. It felt like he’d sucked the life out of me.

I’d never experienced it, but it almost felt like he made love to me.

He pulled out quietly and walked over to the bin to dispose of the rubber.

I was still in a daze when he came back to me. His hands soothed my still-hot thighs.

“I need to leave,” he said softly, before he dropped a kiss to my forehead and walked off.

“Work, huh?”

“Fucking bastards,” was all he said before disappearing to the bedroom.

This was good. Right? I had time to call Delhi.

I could get a breather. Few hours without him.

So why did my chest feel hollow already?

By the time I crawled off the counter and walked into the bathroom, he was already out of the shower and dressed.

His eyes caught my reflection in the mirror.

Rolled his gaze from his shirt I was wearing to my bare toes.

Pure possession in every inch of it. “What’re you going to do? ”

I shrugged. “Catch up on all the work you didn’t allow me to do.”