Page 20 of Ruthless Mafia Heir

He nods, unable to speak.

"Good." I squeeze his jaw a little tighter. "And you stay away from here from now on. I don’t want to see you at this place again. Or anywhere near Sophia. Understood?"

He nods once more. He can’t speak, thanks to the grip I have on his jaw. I release him, and he pulls away from me, gasping for breath. He darts for his car at once, hopping in the front seat and pulling away so fast I almost laugh.

But when I turn back to her and see the look on her face, I know I have a whole lot more to worry about.

Chapter Thirteen—Sophia

"What the hell was that?"

I’m so pissed at him, I can hardly remember I’m supposed to be keeping my distance from him. I stole from Blake the last time I saw him, and I don’t want to find out what his little Silencio club does to thieves. Nothing good, I’m sure.

"What do you mean?" he replies calmly. I glower at him, planting my hands on my hips.

"Why did you get in Tommy’s face like that? He’s a good guy. He’s been helping me out with lifts while I’ve been—"

"Yeah, that’s what he tells you now." He snorts with amusement. "But give it a few more days, and you’re going to have to deal with him trying to get all handsy with you, and then—"

"Blake, he has a girlfriend," I reply, rolling my eyes. "And even if he didn’t, why do you think it’s any of your business who I spend my time with?"

His eyes flash with something, something I can’t quite read.

"You really have to ask that question?"

Anger flares in my system. He thinks he can just talk to me like that? Like he owns me?

"What, you mean because we had one kiss?" I fire back. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks again. I don’t know how to stop it. When I think of the way he touched me, the way he kissed me, the way his mouth felt pressed up against mine, it’s not as though I can just pretend I don’t want him. But there’s a difference between wanting someone and liking them. At least, that’s what I’ve learned, these last few weeks.

"Oh, it’s a lot more than that," he murmurs as he moves toward me, backing me against the wall just next to the back exit to the restaurant. He’s all but a few inches from me, and I can feel my nerve endings reacting with an infuriating predictability to his closeness. Does he see what he does to me? It must be written all over my face. I can’t hide it.

"You really think you can pretend you don’t feel this? That you don’t feel what’s going on between the two of us right now?"

I glare up at him. My chest is rising and falling fast.

"I don’t care what you think is happening here. That still doesn’t give you the right to treat my friends like crap."

He smirks. God, that cocky fucking smirk. Does he know what it does to me? He must. He must know how easy it is for him to get girls wrapped around his little finger the way he has me. Anyone else, I would have chewed them out for daring to lay a hand on a guy who’s been nothing but kind to me. But I don’t have it in me. Not now.

I need something to throw him off, something to let him know he doesn’t have total control here. I think to the charm I stole from him, sitting on my desk in my dorm room. It’s something.

"You don’t have some Silencio meeting to go to?"

His face changes as soon as I say that word. I can see I’ve gotten to him. This is the last thing he expected me to say. It has to be big for him to react like that. I wait for him to come up with an answer, our breath mingling in the bare amount of space between us, but before I can say another word, he leans down and kisses me once more.

And as soon as our lips meet, my head is flooded with the sheer, lusty desire that has been coursing through me ever since our encounter at the party the other night. Every bit of good sense rushes from my mind as he pushes me back against the wall, his tongue buried in my mouth, a deep, throaty groan rising up from inside of him as he kisses me like his life depends on it. I know just how he feels.

His hand slips under my skirt with ease, his fingers brushing along the outside of my panties for the barest moment as his teeth catch on my bottom lip. All I can do is moan against him, letting him pin me right there. Anyone from the restaurant could walk out and catch us like this, but in this moment, it’s hard to give much of a damn.

I push my hands into his hair as he drags my panties down and cups his palm outside of my achingly hot pussy. I gasp against his mouth as I feel his fingers graze the outside of my slit, my back arching as though on instinct. He grins against my lips.

"Oh, you’re that desperate for it, are you?" He chuckles. "How about I make you wait, huh? Like you made me wait at that party?"

I moan helplessly again, silently pleading with him to give me what I want—no, what I need right now. I can’t walk away from this, not again, not after I’ve held myself back and been so sensible and so good. I have to have him.

I’m trying to think of something to say when he spins me around, forcing me against the wall. I plant my hands on the stonework in front of me, and he shoves my skirt above my hips and lands a sharp spank on my ass. I cry out.

"You like that?" he murmurs, his voice catching at the back of his throat as he speaks. I can hear the sheer lust in his tone, the want, the desire that consumes him as it does me. I arch my back again, the sting of his hand on my ass sending a shiver through my whole body.

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