Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Because what I felt for her made no sense, was dangerous to me, but it was a truth inside of me that would not go away.
I don't want it to.
“Why don’t you ask what you really want to ask, Bianca?” My voice was pitched low, maybe dangerously so. I was turned on beyond belief, my cock a thick rope behind the material of my slacks, the length digging into the zipper. She was trying to appear stronger than she felt right now, but her body betrayed what she felt inside.
Rapid breathing. Flushed cheeks. Dilated pupils.
Her physical response would be exactly the same if she were aroused, I internally mused.
“Go on.” I stared deeply into her eyes. “Ask me,” I challenged her, wanting Bianca to say the words. I needed her to grab onto the strength and throw it back in my face. My cock jerked at the very thought.
It was strange to need something so badly it was this pain inside you, this churning in your gut, this tightening in your chest. But as I looked into her light-blue eyes, as I waited for her to ask me if I was a bad man, I felt like this salivating wolf hovering over a sacrificial lamb.
She didn’t answer for long moments, but I didn’t miss how her eyes searched my face before dropping down to my mouth and snapping back up to my eyes. She was at war with herself right now, this tug and pull. It took a hell of a lot of self-control not to grin in male satisfaction. I unnerved her for more than one reason.
I wondered if her pussy was as wet right now as my cock was hard.
“Capo dei Capi.” She said those three words slowly, almost too quietly for me to hear. She turned back to me, and that courage settled on her once more.
I didn’t hold back my growl of approval.
I nearly groaned at hearing them fall from her lips. I was a sick fuck for the way my balls drew up tight and this possessive flare rose in me at hearing her say my title in The Family.
That title held respect and power. It’s who I was, who I was born to be. And although I could only imagine Bianca in every single submissive way possible, her willingly giving herself to me in all ways, it was her strength that turned me on even more, her unyielding, and the undying way she kept her eyes locked with mine. It was the way she wouldn’t back down.
Because although she knew I was dominant, physically stronger than her, she refused to be weak in the eyes of that power. And God, it was incredible.
So fucking beautiful. “Bellissima.” I said that lone word on a growl, one I couldn’t have held back even if I tried. I leaned in another inch, but I stopped right when her lips were a hairsbreadth away, giving her a moment to think I was about to press my mouth on hers. And I knew she would’ve let me claim her, would’ve let me taste her.
“What is happening?” she whispered, her breath warm and smelling sweet like the red wine we had at dinner.
“You were asking me if I’m a bad man, Bianca.” There was an underlying fierceness to my tone, one that was as natural to me as breathing, one I couldn’t tame or lessen, not even for her.
She blinked a few times, and it was incredible to watch her push through her arousal and her needs, her confusion and her concern. She pulled back slightly, putting some distance between us. And although I could still sense the desire in her, the logical side of her brain had kicked into overdrive.
I wanted to smile, to let the desire be a visual on my face so she knew how much she pleased me.
“So you admit that you are that… Capo dei Capi? You admit you’re in the mafia?” She glanced away and exhaled, shaking her head slowly. “God.” That one word was almost inaudible as she whispered it. “I can’t believe I’m asking you that. It seems so crazy.”
I said nothing, staring at her profile, waiting for her to look at me again. And when she did, I still said nothing, letting the reality and the truth of what she asked settle in her without me saying a single word.
Because the truth was, I didn’t have to tell her I was in the Cosa Nostra. I didn’t have to tell her that I was part of the Italian crime syndicate. She knew. She could look into my eyes; she could take in my posture, my demeanor… the violence and danger I never tried to hide. She could see all of that, because deep down, we were animals with instincts, and when we were presented with what was right in front of us… we just knew.