Page 20 of Accidentally Kidnapping the Mafia Boss
FINN
She goes rigid and she’s shivering with fear, and feck, I’m a bad man, but it gives me a thrill that she’s afraid of me. Of what I might do.
Frankly, she’s right. I’m not fully in control of myself, I want her that much. I should withdraw, but the way she quakes under me is intoxicating.
I can’t help it. I rock against her. Just a bit, a deniable movement. Sordid and wrong and… she rolls her hips. Her neck has gone pink.
A certainty sweeps down my spine.
“Do you like being scared?”
She gasps. “No?”
“Honestly?” I croon. Taking my hand to her face, she doesn’t flinch when I stroke her cheek, then down her jaw, and to her neck. Her skin is so soft. She tilts her head up, like a stray cat warily accepting a kind stroke from her new owner.
She doesn’t reply.
“If I reach between your legs, you won’t be wet and puffy with need, your little clit begging for my touch?”
She mews and pushes up against me, rubbing her core against my length.
The sensation makes my brain stutter, even through multiple layers of fabric and dry cotton boxers. The head of my cock is throbbing.
“Go on, tell me. Whisper to me. Tell me you’re not soaking through your knickers,” I urge her, grinding my hips down.
I lower my head and position my ear above her lips. She’s not really trapped. If she wanted to roll over and wriggle away, she could. I’d let her. Reluctantly.
But I think she doesn’t want to get away.
“No,” she breathes.
I shift so I can look into her eyes. They’re clear and blue and innocent, shining. I search them for an indication she doesn’t want this, and find none.
“Liar,” I say back, equally soft. “Are you going to scream if I find out?” I creep my hand down, sliding into her pyjama bottoms, and we both gasp as my fingertips touch her knickers.
She goes rigid, and I pause.
A whine of discontent escapes her throat, and I don’t know if it’s because I stopped, or because of where my hand was going.
“I’d better swallow that scream, huh?” I tease as I lower my mouth to hers, covering hers. “Don’t want anyone to hear and find you.”
There’s no one around. No one to hear if she cried out, or interrupt us from our kinky, forbidden game. This is just a ruse to kiss her. I admit that to myself, even if I can’t to her, hiding that this means so much to me. It might just be a kiss, but it’s our first kiss, and it’s magic. Sparks and rainbows and stupid hearts.
Stupid, stupid hearts, because I’ve kissed many women—none recently—and never had a kiss like this.
My heart skips from just pressing our lips together. It’s so sweet and tender, not at all reflecting the depraved things I want to do to her. I guess the slide of my lips on hers is an apology. The little nibbles and teases are a seduction and a promise.
And a plea.Trust me. I won’t hurt you.
Except in the ways you’ll love.
I love you.
Feck. That’s why this is so new. I love her. I’ve fallen absolutely in love with a girl too young for me, and who fears me.
Grand. Just grand.
It takes soft kisses, patience, and telling her all the ways I love her, for her to relax beneath me.
