Hunted Fiancee: A Dark Mafia Romance - Page 11

She clears her throat. “No.”

I chuckle. “I don’t believe you.”

Unfortunately, we’re no longer on the same planet as my comfort zone. The way I’m feeling right now, I’m not even sure that I still have a comfort zone.

Her nostrils flare. “It obviously meant something to you, big boy. And you hope you snuggle up happily with your memories.” Her eyes shine with bravado. She may be the most maddening thing that ever drew breath. But damn, she is fine. She starts to pace around the empty garage.

I challenge her.

“Do it again, then.” I pace after her.

“What?” She’s walking backward.

“Go on. If you’re so sure you can can do it and walk away, do it.”

She stops. Then advances on me. She gives me her full-on challenging stare. “Do…”

“You know exactly what I’m fucking talking about. Airlock your face on mine, plant your tongue down my throat. Do it again and walk away. Then I’ll believe you.”

She stops in front of me. “Well, I can’t.”

“See?”

“I mean, I can’t walk away. You’re holding me prisoner. Or hostage. Or whatever this is. Aren’t you. So I can’t just walk away.”

“Okay. Stand away, then. Do it, then look me in the eye and tell me it doesn’t mean a thing.”

“And you’ll let me go.”

“No.” I laugh. “There is no, ‘then I’ll let you go.’ That’s not in it.”

“So what is it worth?”

“Nothing.” I shrug. All my muscles are buzzing. The tingling in the backs of my thighs feels like a lit fuse. “I know the truth of it. I just want to see how well you can lie straight after. I suppose what it’s worth is your self-esteem.”

“So my self-esteem is worth nothing?” she sneers, “Is that what you’re saying.”

“Ah, you’re just arguing for the sake of it, trying to shake us off the subject.” I turn my hands palms up. “You know you can’t do it. Just admit it.”

“I can do it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She takes a step closer. Heat rises in my chest and my neck. The scent of her is making my blood pump and hammer. My cock is so hard, it aches down both sides. The head fells raw and over sensitive.

My throat is tight. Inside my mouth is dry and my tongue feels thick.

She’s near enough that I can feel the rise and fall of her breasts. Her breaths are shallow. Trembling.

God, man? Do I need to tell myself all the reasons why this is the worst fucking idea of all time?

Why don’t I just imagine explaining it to Liam. He might think it would be best if I broke it to her father. The boss of another crime family.

How might that little chat go? ‘Oh, Lucas? Lucas Moretti? We haven’t met before. No. Hey, you know, guess what? The funniest thing.’

Her breath flutters. Patters against my lips as she stretches up. Her lips part. The warmth of her lips prints on mine as she shapes her mouth to mine.

My mind tunnels. I could have her. There must be a way. There has to be.

All the reasons why I wouldn’t seem to have faded behind a wall of smoke and out of reach.

Then her arms are around my neck and our mouths are closing on each other and her tongue is finding mine and I can taste her breath in my mouth, even before our soft, hot, wet flesh connects us.

Melts the two of us into one.

One mass of heat and heaving lust. A swirling, liquid rage of muscle and breath and movement.

Her body, pressed against mine, her hips roll and sway around the ridge of my aching cock.

I feel her about to break. Her eyes half open. Then she plunges deeper. Breathing noisily, she wraps her arms tight around me. Grinds her mound into me. Her firm, full breasts swell against me.

One hand in her hair, on holding her swiveling ass, I’m in danger of losing myself.

And she stands back.

Breathing hard. Wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

Her eyes blaze. “See? Nothing”

Chapter Eight

Mia

The look on his face could melt me. But I can’t tear my eyes away from his.

I say it again, even though my nipples sting hard and the pulse thumps in my pussy.

“Nothing. No. Thing.” My voice catches.

He smirks.

I slam into him like a magnet.

I kiss him again. Hard. Feel the molten surge fire up inside me. Grip his hair. Run my hands over the hard roll of his pecs. The stiff ridges of his abs.

While his tongue invades me, I want the taste of his sweat. His heat. His cock.

I crook my leg around his ass. Drag him as much into me as I can.

His hands fly all over my body. Raking through my hair. Pulling my head to him. Clamping my ass to drag my hips against his. His pelvis rocks. That rod. I slide my palms down to find it.

Tags: Frankie Love Crime
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