Page 77 of Mafia Mistress

I rubbed her hip. “You don’t mean that. You are angry—and you have every right—but I am asking for your forgiveness. I should not have left you here alone. I let my temper and jealousy control my tongue. If there had been any way for me to get to you last night I would have tried, but the wind was too strong.”

She slapped my hand away. “I don’t believe you, not after you said the separation would be good for both of us. What the fuck did that even mean?”

“It meant I was angry, Francesca. I was trying to spare you my temper. But I regretted leaving the second we lifted off.”

“Bullshit.”

“I will never lie to you. I am many things, most of them terrible, but I am not a liar.”

“If you regretted it, then why didn’t you come right back?”

“I had to stand by my decision. Changing my mind is a sign of weakness.”

She gave a humorless laugh and dragged a hand through her long golden hair. “I am not one of your soldiers, Fausto. Mistress or not, you cannot treat me like shit.”

“I want to spoil you and treat you like a goddess, if you’ll let me.”

“Until the next time you get angry and put me in your dungeon. Or leave me in the middle of a hurricane.”

There was no hurricane, but I didn't bother correcting her. “I promise I won’t banish you to the dungeon or the yacht the next time you piss me off.”

“Or anywhere else. You won’t banish me anywhere, Fausto.”

She was forgetting who held the power in our arrangement, and I would need to remind her as soon as her temper cooled. “Or?”

“I’ll stab you with something sharper than a pen.”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “Many have tried, Francesca. I wouldn’t recommend it.” Rising, I cupped her jaw in my hands. “The devil cannot be killed.”

I pressed my lips to hers, moving softly, letting my body convey my apology. My regret. I needed to reassure her that I would never let her down again. And I craved reassurance that she was still mine.

Her lips parted and my tongue swept inside, desperate to taste her. She was warm and slick, and so sweet I could feel blood pumping to my dick. The boat rocked gently, our bodies swaying ever so slightly, pushing her tits into my chest, and I hoped this meant she had forgiven me. We could spend all day on the boat, fucking.

I reached under the dress shirt hanging down her thighs to cup her ass—and she wasn’t wearing panties. I sucked in a breath. “Cazzo, you are so sexy.”

“I had no clothes to change into after I puked on my black bikini.”

I gave her ass a slap. “I like you in my clothing.”

“I can tell.” Her eyes dipped to my crotch. “But I am not fucking you today, Fausto.” I trailed my fingers to her seam, but she edged away. “Did you not hear what I said?”

“I feel as though you need a reminder as to how our relationship works.”

“And after last night, I feel as though you need a reminder that this pussy belongs to me, until I decide you’ve earned it.”

The back of my neck itched, my chest hot. “Not even close, Francesca.” I started toward her and she retreated, step by step, until I had her pinned against the wall. Then I slid my hand between us and cupped her. “This pussy is mine until I decide it isn’t.”

She started to argue, so I grazed her folds with my fingers, brushing over her clit. Her body softened, relaxing into the wall and into my hand. “You are not playing fair,” she whispered.

“I never do. This is mine—and I will fuck it raw until I’ve had enough.”

“You are an asshole.”

“The biggest.” But I didn’t want her to regret giving herself over to me. While I craved having her again, her submissive compliance was a thousand times more satisfying. Was I growing soft when it came to her? Possibly, but I couldn’t seem to help it.

I let her go.

“Come. Let’s return to the castello. Zia is worried sick about you. Not to mention that Giulio nearly punched me when he learned where you were last night. They deserve to know you are all right.”

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