Page 414 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

“Fuck,” I moan. “Oh my God, that feels so incredible. Make me come, Dante. Come with me now!”

“I’m not wearing a?—”

“I don’t care!” I pant, choking on my labored breaths. “I’m on the pill!”

A guttural roar erupts from his throat and his movements speed up. I dig my teeth into his shoulder to stifle the scream that threatens to escape, a flash of bright white light exploding across my eyes with the same intensity as the explosive force that shatters me from the inside out.

Dante thrusts a couple of more times before tremors rock his body and he collapses against me, both of us struggling for breath. He collapses against me, his chest heaving.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, I just did,” I say, huffing and puffing myself. “And it was amazing.”

“It was…” he says, staring into my eyes with an intensity that makes the hairs on my skin prickle. “Different…but not…”

I furrow my brow, letting out a breathless chuckle. “You’re not making much sense right now. Did the orgasm fry your brain?”

“Maybe,” he mutters, dragging a finger back down over my Band-Aid. “You should put something on that so it doesn’t get infected.”

I swallow hard and nod. “Okay, I’ll check in the bathroom. I’m sure there’s something in there.”

In a strange kind of daze, he bends down to pick up my pajamas and I put them back on quickly, running a hand through my hair. “I wonder what time Matteo and Heaven will be home,” I say, desperately trying to fill the silence.

Dante stares out the window at the bright lights below. “They aren’t used to being out this late. Matteo is probably falling asleep in his dessert right now.”

My stomach growls at the mention of food and I rub a hand over it. “Speaking of dessert…is there any chance you didn’t finish all of that food before?”

He looks at me, those blue eyes lancing me with unanswered questions and unconfirmed suspicions. But he doesn’t ask anything.

He just stares.

And that is way more torturous, in my opinion.

So looking at me all day long didn’t give away my identity, but fucking me did?

I’ll never understand men.

But knowing where his head is at right now means I have to be even more careful.

“There’s still some in the fridge. Come on, I’ll heat it up for you.” He flashes a half-smile. “Tommy is very specific with the instructions for re-heating his food. If you fuck it up, you’ll ruin the flavors or some shit. I don’t know. I guess if I were a culinary wizard I’d care more, but when I’m hungry…” A wicked glimmer in his eyes makes goosebumps shoot up my legs and down my arms. “I’m just gonna take it, however I can get it.”

I nod, forcing a smile. “I’m starving, so I promise I won’t be picky.”

I follow Dante into the kitchen, watching the moonlight bounce off of his muscled back, his smooth, bronze skin glistening. I long to run my fingers over it again, to feel his biceps tense as I rub my hands down his thick arms. I want to trace the outline of his pecs with my tongue. I want to?—

“You allergic to anything?” Dante asks, interrupting my delicious fantasy as he walks into the kitchen.

“Not that I know of,” I murmur, patting down the front of my pajama shirt where it hits my Band-Aid.

He turns to give me a long look, drinking me in from head to toe. But there’s conflict in his eyes.

I can see the hunger, the longing, and the lust.

But I can also feel the suspicion. It’s heavy in the air around us, picking away at his desire like a fingernail scratching a scab.

He wants me but doesn’t know exactly who I am.

I feel the same inner conflict and it’s tearing me apart.

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