Page 74 of Mafia Darling

“Jesus, Fausto.”

He chuckled and kissed my hand. “Tell me I am wrong.”

“If you don’t satisfy me, I will just take care of myself.”

He hummed deep in his chest. “I still watch the video of you trying on lingerie in the dressing room from Rome. It gets me so hard.”

We stepped out into the darkness. I expected him to turn right but he went left, as if we were going to the vineyards. “Wait, shouldn’t we head toward the castello?”

“This is a surprise, amore. That means you do not ask questions.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“You will like this. Trust me.”

The night was perfect. Not too brisk and a clear sky for a bright three-quarter moon. There wasn’t a sound anywhere around us except for our feet on the gravel path. It felt like we were completely alone out here, the only two people in the entire world.

“We’re going into the vineyards?”

He didn’t answer, just led me down the rows of vines. The look on his face was predatory, dark . . . the same man who’d watched me deep throat him in the stables and ride him in a red bodysuit. It was the face of a man obsessed, who would have me at all costs. And I had given up everything for him, had followed him down the path of darkness where he made the rules and no one dared question him.

But I knew the power I held, the way he’d suffered without me. He would bend at my request, as he had with Paulo and Enzo. The thought of this great man willing to change his mind for me, his wife, made me hot and reckless, like I wanted to do anything he asked, no matter how depraved. It made me giddy and light, a supplicant ready to worship at his feet.

It made me want to play.

I kicked off my flats and took off running.

I didn’t need to look back to see if he was chasing me—I knew he was there, right behind me. I could feel his breath, his lust as I lifted my heavy skirts and flew across the bare ground. The cool dirt cushioned my toes and the wind caused my hair to stream behind me like a banner. I was free and outside, with the one person I loved beyond reason. The hunger for him was like these grape leaves—steady and strong and lasting.

He caught me, his big hands finding my waist and pulling me to a stop, and he caged me against his chest with his arms. I gave a pitiful struggle, which caused his muscles to strain as he held me tighter. “Where do you think you are going, piccola monella?”

Oh, shit. I heard it in his voice. That rough domination, the kind he got when he wanted to conquer me.

And I desperately wanted to be conquered.

“You don’t have to do this, signore,” I panted. “I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

His body jerked slightly, then he spun me around. His glittering gaze searched my face, as if to check what was happening, so I added in a plea, “Please, just let me go.”

I heard his quick intake of breath, watched his nostrils flare. His fingers dug into my ribs, the strength he normally kept in check flaring to life. Mmmm, yes. I wanted to feel that strength, to drown in it tonight. To wake up tomorrow with his fingerprints and bite marks all over me.

We’d played these games before, though not quite this particular one, but still he knew his part. He knew what I wanted from him, because no one had more insight into my mind than Fausto.

His hand wrapped around the front of my throat, not cutting off air but squeezing my flesh enough to send my pulse racing. “You belong to me now, little girl, and I will never let you go.”

“No, please—”

I lost the ability to speak when he bent and tossed me over his shoulder. He marched through the vines, ignoring my half-hearted struggles and protests until he found the row he wanted. The plants surrounded us, parallel lines of brown and green, and it was a world away from soldiers and guns. A simpler place where men claimed their women in the dirt and open sky.

He set me on my feet but didn’t release me. Instead his hand came under my jaw to hold me still. “You are going to be very good for me, capisce? You will do exactly what I say, won’t you?”

I rolled my lips, more turned on than I could stand. “But I’ve never done this before. I’m afraid you’re going to hurt me.”

His grip gentled and his accent became more pronounced, his voice dark with desire. “I will not hurt you, sweet girl. I will get you ready, stretch your tight pussy wide to take my cock.” His palm swept over my breast, and my nipple pebbled at his touch. “You will try for me. You want to make me happy, no?”

God, yes. My knees were like jelly as I nodded. “Sì, Signore Ravazzani. I will try.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

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