Page 90 of Forced Vows

Chapter 30: RÓISE

"The mafia you mean. La famiglia."

He winces. "Your pronunciation is atrocious. The famiglia on my arm refers to the De Lucas not the Genovese."

Like the wolf represents him and the men in his family, not just made men. And not just him.

Miceli's right about my pronunciation. He gave different inflections to the syllables and the g was silent. I'd like to see him pronounce Irish without coaching.

"And the other word," I ask, putting my grievances aside.

"Sempre means always."

Family always.

But not his mafia family. "You said that your family and the mafia are the same."

"They are." He brushes his fingers along my inner thigh. "Except when they aren't."

I want to slam my legs together and trap his hand there. "And when that happens?"

"I kill any threat to my family, mafia alliances, or not."

"When we get married, will I be part of your family?" The words slip out of their own volition, but now I want an answer.

I need one.

"You already are."

"No, not yet. We're not even engaged." Not officially anyway. Can a contract make me family?

"You don't wear my ring. You don't carry my name, but make no mistake about it, mi dolce fiore. You are mine."

A thrill of pleasure goes through me at his words. Shouldn't that be revulsion? It's not though.

It's something way more dangerous to me. It feels like the first stirrings of an emotion I cannot feel for this man.

Love.

Lust is much safer. "I'm aching is what I am." I pause. "Miceli."

He doesn't even take time to gloat, but goes back to pleasuring me with his mouth. His finger slides inside me as he sucks my clitoris between his lips.

And just like that I'm back on the precipice, my body drawn taught as a bowstring.

I say the words he wants. "Please, Miceli. Make me come!"

The last is more an order than a plea, but that doesn't seem to bother him. His teeth scrape over my clitoris and he crooks his finger inside me, pressing against the bundle of nerves from the other side.

A two-ton blast of ecstasy detonates inside me and a scream tears from my throat as my soul leaves my body to float in delirium around us.

I'm just coming back to myself when I feel the cold steel of Miceli's knife at the top of my breast.

My eyes fly open. When did they close? During that cataclysm of pleasure, I guess.

"What are you doing?" I croak, my throat still raw from screaming.

"Yes, or no?" he asks without answering.

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