“Yeah?” Heat creeps into my face.
Fucking champagne. And this is why I don’t drink.
“I mean it.” Her smile softens, sincerity breaking through. “Now go. Drink. Dance. Show Izzie how we Romanos have fun.”
I don’t need to be told twice. After a quick kiss on my mother’s cheek, I take Izzie’s hand, threading my fingers through hers, and pull her away from the group.
“What are you doing?” She giggles as we speed away from the crowd.
“My mother said I should show you a good time tonight.”
“Okay… and?” She laughs, not fully grasping where I’m going with this.
“I know only one way to guarantee that,” I say, rushing down the hall and opening the door leading to the piano room. I urge Izzie inside and lock the door behind us.
“What are you up to?” She continues to giggle, walking backwards as I prowl forward. Before she has time to get far, I grab her waist and plant her on top of the piano. “Are you going to play me something?” she says, eyes heady, finally on the same page as me.
“If you want me to,” I mutter, my hands already on her thighs, the fucking backless dress on her making me salivate at the mouth. “But I’ll leave that for the good boyfriend to do.”
“Is that so?” She mauls at her lip, just as she places her six-inch heel on my chest. “And what is the bad boyfriend about to do with me?”
“Anything you fucking want,bella.”
And with that, I pretend to take the pin we put in place when we first arrived off the imaginary board.
Showtime.
Chapter 26
Isobel
I bite down hard on Marcello’s belt, the taste of Italian leather sharp on my tongue as he pounds into me from behind like a man possessed.
Tonight has been nothing but a blur.
My time here has been a cross between engaging in vapid conversations withcaposand the city’s one-percenters, to Marcello fucking me senseless in every hidden corner of this mansion. We spent maybe thirty minutes mingling with the party guests before he’d had enough, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me into the nearest empty room he could find. I’ve practically toured this entire place on my back or bouncing on his cock.
Not that I’m complaining. It actually reminds me of that first weekend in my apartment, when Marcello couldn’t go an hour without being inside me again.
Maybe it’s the flowing flutes of champagne that he’s indulged in tonight, or perhaps he just needs an escape from having to mingle with people that mean nothing to him. ThoughI sense his erratic, viciously delicious behavior has more to do with nerves caused by me being in his domain. Knowing what he knows about me, I’m sure it isn’t easy for him to deceive his family like this.
If anyone ever discovered who I really am—who I work for—it wouldn’t just be a death sentence for me. It would be one for him, too. Heir or not, the Outfit would demand blood for such a betrayal.
Still… here I am.
Marcello risked everything tonight just so he could introduce me to the people who are important to him. That alone makes me ache for him all the more.
Pressed up against a wall, I gasp for breath while my body sings under his dominance. My vision swims when he drives so deep inside of me that I forget where I even am, his words spilling ragged into my ear, only increasing my need for him.
“You feel so good,bella.I can’t get enough of you. I’ll never get enough of you.”
My teeth sink into the belt, muffling the sounds that escape me, giving me something to tether myself to while he destroys me, ruins me in the most glorious of ways. My knees are shot, and my legs keep trembling after so many shattering orgasms in such a short period. Yet, I still hold on for as long as possible, matching his rhythm to a T.
Any other man would’ve wilted by now. Add a heavy amount of alcohol into the mix, and they’d be out for the count. But not Marcello. And it isn’t youth keeping him hard… keeping him insatiable, either. It’s me. Wanting me. Needing me. Craving me to the point of obsession.
My Marcello.
Knowing I’m this man’s only weakness pushes me over the edge. My pussy clenches around him as stars burst across myvision. And the second I break apart, he follows, as though he’s been waiting for me to fall before surrendering himself.