Page 8 of The Devil’s Touch (Obsession #1)

D omenico

The blood stains on my cuffs made me grimace. It wasn’t supposed to be such a bother since I never felt remorse about killing anyone who dared to cross me. I still didn’t feel remorse. I was wary of showing up at home looking like this.

Home.

That word seemed to carry a lot more weight to it these days.

The presence of a blonde-haired woman in my home made me look forward to getting home no matter what these days.

The void that existed in the house for years and morphed it into a place where I slept had cleared off.

It was replaced by something else, something warm that I knew only her presence had the power of evoking.

And I knew home wasn’t a place. It was a person. That person was Silvana. Silvana was my home.

The thoughts lingering on my mind cleared off like a fog when the tall brick walls of the Chateau came into view.

The gates beeped open, and the car drove into the vast compound, heading straight for the parking lot.

My bodyguard, Adriano, swiftly got the door open, stepping aside so that I could alight.

“Do you need me to do anything else, boss?” Adriano’s cold, distant gaze met mine.

“You can head home tonight. I won’t be needing you,” I replied.

He threw me a curt nod. I didn’t wait for his response before I spun around. Adriano had been working with me for almost five years now. Let’s just say working for me wasn’t exactly what he’d have chosen at first.

He was a victim of betrayal from the last people he expected it from.

Adriano was meant to take out the enemy, but it turned out that the people he trusted the most were planning to eliminate him because he knew too much.

I was his lifeline the night he almost lost his life.

I saved him, and since then, he had pledged to serve me for the rest of his life.

The house was silent, save for the shuffling of feet of the maids moving around. A frown immediately dented my features when I glanced around and couldn’t find a mane of blonde hair lurking anywhere.

“Good evening, Don,” a maid murmured, bowing.

“Where’s my—” I paused, not knowing what to call her. “Where is the lady of the house?” I asked her.

“In her room. I think she’s taking a bath.”

I strode past her, heading for her wing, not caring about the streaks of blood on my sleeve, not caring about how I didn’t want her to see me like this.

The door that led to her room slowly creaked open as I pushed it back. My gaze darted to the queen-size bed. It was neatly laid with a thick white robe lying on it. I made my way to the bathroom, since the maid reported that she was having a bath.

By God, I wanted to sink to my knees so badly and worship the ground she walked on when I got to the large, ensuite vintage bathroom. I halted, my jaw clenching and unclenching. Blood rushed to my cock, thickening it until it felt a little too hard.

Outside the four walls of this bathroom, I was the Don of the Sicilian Mafia.

I was the devil. I was the destroyer who hunted his enemies down.

I was the monster that people feared. The myth, the legend, the most fearsome of them all.

But here, with this woman, I was just a man, consumed by an obsession that seemed to grow darker and more intense as each day passed.

I was a man who was completely undone by a blonde-haired woman.

The pink bubbles that filled up the tub shielded her body from my hungry gaze.

She hadn’t noticed me. She was engrossed in the cheesy rom-com book she was reading, hair cascading down her back in lush blonde locks, thick lashes fluttering now and then, plump lips parting lightly as blood rushed to her cheeks.

The adorable grin on her face wrapped around my neck like a fucking noose and I almost found my lips twitching.

Fucking adorable. All mine.

She stirred, looking up from the book in her hands. The smile on her face didn’t falter. It fucking softened, cracking my chest wide open.

“Dom,” she murmured, her sultry voice curling around my chest, tugging at my heartstrings.

“ Mia Cara. ”

She swallowed. Her eyes drifted away from mine, going somewhere else. My cuffs. I shifted, waiting for the look of fear, or disgust to cross her face but there was none.

“I’ll take this off and join you.”

“No,” she refuted sternly. “Come here,”

I didn’t think a day would come when I’d start taking orders from someone. But Silvana wasn’t just anyone. She was mine. My undoing. My destruction. My redemption.

I found myself dragging my feet towards her.

Silvana rose out of the water once I got to her.

Those olive-green eyes didn’t leave mine the whole time.

They took a more seductive shade as her wet fingers reached for my buttons, slowly undoing them.

The wetness of her fingers sent heat unraveling on my skin, shortening my breath.

She slowly tucked her lips between her teeth, shrugging my shirt off my body.

The shirt pooled on the floor.

Her fingers found my fly next, undoing it. Then, she pulled down my briefs, freeing my thick, hard cock. I stepped out of my trousers, kicking them aside and getting in the water with her. Our chests brushed, her hardened nipples teasing my chest, eliciting a moan from her.

The moment I settled into the tub, I pushed her body up against mine, dragging her ass up against my cock.

I groaned, tossing my head back slightly.

She moaned, resting her head on my chest. My fingers teasingly glided around the slopes of her perky breasts as I breathed in the head-turning scent emitting from her hair.

“Luciano,” she breathed. “Tell me about him.”

My fingers hovered on her chest, tension coursing through my veins. Her small hands rested on mine. It was her way of telling me that she was with me.

“I didn’t know you had a son. I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t seen him the other day.” Her voice was quiet, and I didn’t miss the cautiousness in it.

“I had him when I was twenty. My father didn’t want his grandson to be born outside of the Cosa Nostra.

He believed it was the universe’s way of granting me an heir.

His mother was just a woman I had a random one-night stand with, so it was easy to pay her off after she gave birth to him,” I explained, tracing circles around her chest.

“Why do you hate him?” she whispered.

That struck a nerve. “I don’t hate my son,” I hissed. “I’m just mad at him.”

“Why?”

“Luciano is irresponsible. I have tried so many times to get him to commit to building the family’s legacy but he’s so adamant.

Times without number, he’s done something to soil the family name and I have had to clean up his messes.

He’s a stubborn, petulant child who thinks he knows what’s best.” I gritted my teeth.

Luciano was a sore topic. I have tried to bend him to my will, but he has insisted that he wanted no part of my legacy.

Silvana casually kissed our entwined hands. “He mentioned something about a dog the other day...”

“Damien.” I answered curtly. “Damien is my adopted son. He’s also my right-hand in the family. I found him on the streets when he was just ten, the same age as Luciano then. Damien has proven to be more of a son than him...”

“That’s the problem,” she interjected. “In your quest to prove something to him, you have constantly chosen Damien over him and made him feel like an outcast. He’s your son. He doesn’t have to prove to be a Romano before he is a Romano.”

Her words struck me in the gut.

“I know you love him, baby. But this tough love, this tough act, you are going to have to let it go if you want a relationship with your son.” Silvana spoke her truth, her voice soft, weaponized to melt away the frosty cracks surrounding my heart.

“Has it ever occurred to you that his rebellion is just a way to get your attention? To feel like he matters to you?” she added.

“Just...” she trailed off, sighing. “Talk to him. You’ll see.”

A long silence hung between us, hers not born out of awkwardness but because she wanted to give me the space to process everything she said.

“Turn around,” I murmured, stroking my fingers on her hip curves.

Silvana obliged, her perky boobs flashing in my face. Her hair was a little messy, some strands wet, sticking to her skin. Her sultry green eyes bore into mine, reeking with desire, hunger, and passion.

I bit down on my lips, suppressing a groan as my eyes traced the slopes of her breasts tipped with hardened rosy pink nipples. They heaved slightly, aching to have my lips wrapped around them.

I reached for a nipple, pinching it softly.

She sucked in a breath, her gaze following the movement of my fingers as they swept the sticky strands of her hair over her shoulder. My fingers clasped around her nape, pushing her face close until our noses were brushing, until she was the only thing that I could breathe in.

“Dom,” she breathed.

“I want you to ride me,” I murmured, kissing her softly.

There was something undoubtedly raw about this moment—something that made me want to live in it as much as I could and savor every piece of it.

I pushed myself up, slowly digging my fingers into her hip to help her sink down my hard, aching length. A moan ripped from her throat, slowly, painfully, echoing through the large bathroom.

She tossed her head back. “Fuck.”

I’d never get tired of being inside her.

My cock was stretching her out, getting accustomed to her warm, wet walls all over again.

It didn’t matter if I came home every night and fucked her face flat into the pillow and writhing with sobs.

I was obsessed with this woman and I could never get tired of claiming her.

“Always so tight and ready for me,” I rasped against her lips.

Silvana sank up and down my length so slowly, taking her time to relish in the power she had over me. Her plump lips were parted in sheer pleasure, her eyes drifting shut as she proceeded to bite down on those lips.

“ More. God. More. ”

I sank my fingers into her hair, allowing her to take the lead and ride me into madness. I pushed myself up constantly, meeting her halfway with slow, intense strokes and thrusts.

Her cries were deafening. Her urge to grab onto something seeming to grow incessantly.

She palmed the back of my head, dragging her fingers over my scalp as I rotated my hips to deepen my thrusts.

Her hands were everywhere. On my hair. On my back.

Leaving marks, claiming me and I fucking surrendered.

I wanted her to mark me as much as she wanted.

“Leave marks, Mia Cara. I want them.” I stroked her hips, grunting as she dug her fingernails into my back.

She upped her pace, bouncing up and down my length, moans rolling off her tongue. Her impatience was so fucking adorable. She was taking from me, yet it didn’t feel enough.

I cupped one of her nipples, latching my mouth on the other, sucking, nibbling, and biting.

“ Oh, God. ”

Her breasts shook with every movement, the strands of her hair sticking to her sweaty back even more, the more I tried to grab a hold of them.

The smell of sweat, everything else that smelled like her, and the slippery sound my cock made slamming in and out of her dripping pussy was a cacophony of sensual madness—one that constantly pulled at my strings.

Silvana had all the cards in her hands because she rode me until I was a stuttering and growling mess.

“You are going to be the death of me,” I groaned against her mouth, in between kisses.

“Dom—I— God .”

“Hm hm, that’s my girl,” I crooned. “You want to come for me, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Do it with me.”

I met her thrust for thrust, groans for moans. My muscles tensed up, her hoarse cries filling my ears and riding in symphony with guttural groans as we simultaneously hit our climaxes.

She was breathing heavily like she just came down from a high, making me grin softly. My lips brushed hers, our foreheads connecting like we were made for each other.

At that moment, I knew what I wanted. It had always been right in front of my eyes and I fucking took it.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice cracking lightly, almost as though she couldn’t believe herself. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I love you, Dom, and I’m tired of keeping it in. You don’t have to—”

I kissed her. Hard.

It was heated, passionate and consuming. I had to grab the back of her head to keep her still.

Afterwards, I let go of the words that hung on my lips.

“Marry me.”