Page 50 of Tainted Obsession 1
His hot cum lashes my breasts, eliciting a warm glow in the center of my chest. My satisfaction is more than just physical; this powerful beast of a man is coming undone for me. He’s taken control of my body, my pleasure. He’s staking his claim over me.
“Mine,” he snarls, lips peeled back from his white teeth in a purely primal expression.
The corners of my eyes sting. No one has ever looked at me like this. No one has ever wanted me so desperately. Like I’meverything to him, and he would do anything to possess me. It should worry me, but I’m too drunk on bliss to feel anxious.
I can see now that even when I was with George, I was alone in my devotion to him.
I’ve been alone for so long.
But Massimo isn’t allowing me to hide from him. He keeps me exactly where he wants me: in his arms, under his protection.
Chapter 20
Evelyn
“Istill don’t want to go to Colombia,” I tell Massimo honestly on our way to the airport the next morning, as though I can somehow convince him to turn the SUV around and take me…
Where? Where do I want to go?
Not back to Stefano Duarte’s home, the heart of a dangerous cartel.
Not back to the shabby, cramped apartment I shared with George in Mexico City.
Back to Albuquerque? Where I don’t have any friends, my family doesn’t care about me, and the future I envisioned with George is in ruins?
I’m adrift, without a home or a safe haven.
I feel like the only safe place for me is in Massimo’s arms, but he’s in the mafia. That’s insane.
“Don’t ask me to let you go,” he says, a low warning. He slings his arm over me, pulling me closer. “You’re staying with me. I thought we agreed last night. You’re mine.”
Mine.
My heart squeezes as I remember the way he made me feel when he tied me to his bed and marked me as his.
With George, I’d constantly sought his affection and approval.
Massimo lavishes me with affection, even when I protest. And he’s so generous with his praise that I don’t know how to handle all of the positive affirmations and compliments.
“I don’t want…” I stop myself before I say that I don’t want him to let me go.
All of the trauma and heartache must be breaking my mind. A mafioso is about to take me to meet with a cartel boss in Colombia, and I don’t want to leave him.
It might be insane, but I can’t deny my conflicted feelings for him.
“I know you’ll keep me safe,” I say instead. “But I don’t want to go to Colombia. I don’t want anything to do with the cartels.”
He shrugs. “It’s just business,dolcezza.You don’t need to worry about any of that. I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself.”
Before I can formulate another protest, he cups my breast in a brazen caress.
“Massimo!” I try to squirm away, mortified. We were in the backseat of the SUV, and the driver will be able to see him touching me if he glances in the rearview mirror.
“You don’t need to worry about anything, Evelyn. I’ll take care?—”
“Massimo!” I scream his name in the moment before the van smashes into the side of our SUV.
Tires screech, glass shatters, and pain explodes through my skull.
