Page 26 of The Sicilian Brotherhood I

“What does that mean?”

“What it sounds like. You intrigue me.”

“Are you flirting?”

Was I? He’d brought attention to what I’d been doing and heat rushed to my face.

“Oh…” I whispered.

He chuckled, “Now you’re embarrassed?”

“I don’t have any interest in you, okay?”

“Right,” he mused, “You’re just looking.”

“Shut up,” I playfully smacked him and he grabbed my hand.

“If you want to play rough like that, we can play.”

He turned to look at me and I saw an intense desire in his eyes that caused a lump to form in my throat.

“Can I say no to you?”

“Of course,” he replied.

I licked my lips and gazed away bashfully, buying myself time. Yes, we were trapped down here alone in a basement with no witnesses but there was no way this was happening. There was no way this should happen.

“Are you saying no?” He asked.

I stared into his eyes and saw all my fears and all my desires wrapped into one man. He was like Franco, except in one important way: he’d protected me. Oh, the sweet irony. My captor had struck fear into my heart but along with that fear, I’d slowly come to realize that he wouldn’t hurt me. He wouldn’t hurt an innocent…

I leaned forward and planted a peck on his lips, pulling away from him before he could respond.

He whispered, “That was nice.”

I rolled back onto my back, my heart racing out of control. Why had I just done that? I was taunting him now, teasing him. I had to be stupid to put myself in the position of teasing Giacomo Valducci of all people. A Sicilian. A gangster. A murderer. My ex-fiancé’s greatest rival.

He approached me, holding my face and tilting my gaze towards him.

“I want another one.”

I closed my eyes and leaned forward, kissing him again. This time, he kissed back, pressing his lips forcefully into mine and parting my lips with his tongue, thrusting between them as I savored the flavor of his mouth. He pulled away from me and I could already feel his hardness pulsing against my leg.

Oh, God. The feeling of his cock pressing against my thigh reminded me of Raimondo and how terrified I’d been. He’d nearly entered me, he’d nearly violated my greatest boundary. And Giacomo had gotten rid of him. He hadn’t let happen to me what Franco had allowed so many times before. I reached down his pants and wrapped my hand around his hardness, feeling its pulsing and immense girth hot in my coiled palm.

“You want it?” He asked.

I nodded.

“Dirty girl…” he whispered, kissing my lips and then my neck, sucking on bits of my flesh until I emitted an unwilling moan.

He pulled his cock out of his pants and I could feel the hot flesh pressing directly against my skin.

“Get out of those clothes.”

I wriggled out of my clothes, presenting myself to him with just a bra and a underwear. He unhooked the bra and flung it across the room before he slid his hands past my panties.

“Wet…”

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