Page 110 of Broken Mafia Bride
His fingers tighten where they’re clutching mine, and he pauses to shift his hip. His next thrust nearly makes me black out, and I have to toss my head back and let out a keening cry, tears slipping out of the corners of my eyes.
“Do you love me?”
I bob my head vigorously, but it’s not enough for him. He nips at the side of my neck. “Say the words. Say you love me.”
I hesitate. Not because I don’t love him, but because I know Raffaele. Saying those words will be sealing my fate to him. He’ll translate it as my acceptance of his marriage offer. There’s just too much horrible history between us. How are we supposed to move through all of it?
And what if everything that’s happened so far is just the beginning of what we will face? How many more punches can I take before I finally tap out?
“Giulia!” he bites out.
“I love you. I love you, I love you,” I chant the words over and over again.
Raffaele reaches down and flicks my clit with his thumb, then gathers moisture from my dripping pussy to my clit, drawing circles around it.
“Please, please!” I cry.
He continues to torture me, drawing me to the edge and letting me off the hook, over and over until I think I’m going to pass out, and then finally, he pinches my clit. I erupt into a million fragments, a scream rising from my belly and ripping out of my throat.
The orgasm detonates through me like a nuclear bomb, and for a second, I’m not sure I survived the intensity of it. Everything is bright light, and all of my problems and worries stop existing.
“I love you too.” Raffaele is dropping kisses all over me. “I’ll fix this. We’ll have the life we dreamed of.”
All I can do is close my eyes and cling to him, choosing to trust the conviction in his voice and forget about the other voices in my head telling me that this road leads to nothing but more pain.
“I made sure to lock the kitchen door on my way in, by the way,” Raffaele adds after a moment, his tone lightening with a touch of mischief. “You’re welcome.”
I chuckle softly, feeling my initial worries leave. “You had plans to make me scream and fuck me here from the start, didn’t you?”
He gives me a playful smirk. “You’re always part of my plans, Giulia.”
34
RAFFAELE
“He’s down here,” Pepe informs me, motioning down the dark hallway of the decrepit building. A single naked bulb flickers on and off, giving the place an eerie feeling.
I trail after my cousin to a closed metal door. He pulls out a key from the pocket of his slacks, and we step into the dark room. I tense, fingers creeping toward my gun tucked into the holster at my back, but a second later, there is a clang, and bright fluorescent bulbs come to light above us.
I wince at the sudden brightness. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust, and when they do, I take note of the man tied to a seat in the middle of the room. The man’s face is already bruised and discolored, dried blood stuck to his jaw and staining his white shirt.
“We found him yesterday evening in this abandoned building,” Pepe explains. “After he shot Isabella, he managed to slip away, then one of the maids started talking about the photographer not making it to dinner.”
I raise a confused eyebrow at him, and he shrugs. “Apparently, he was taking pictures of the house and cars. Shenoticed him earlier in the day and thought he was one of the guests. We did a rough sketch and took it to the streets, and it led us straight to the bastard.”
I step closer to him and grip him by his hair, yanking his face up. To my surprise, I find a young face staring back at me defiantly. He can’t be more than twenty. Distaste rises inside me.
Who the fuck is using kids to do their dirty work?
“Who are you?” I ask him.
He glances between Pepe and me. “I don’t know why I’m here. I swear, I’m just a waiter. I don’t know what the fuck this is, but you have no right to keep me here!”
I glance over at Pepe in surprise, and he shrugs. “He’s been singing the same tune since yesterday. The men who dug him out roughed him up a little to get him to say something, but nothing so far.”
Facing the tied-up man again, I go down to my haunches so I can look him in the eye. “Look, kid?—”
“I’m not a fucking kid,” he spits, eyes narrowed in fury.
