Page 123 of Their Princess

“Yeah, I guess.”

“MCs can get a bad rap too, but there are plenty made up of military and cops.”

I scoffed. “Not this one, though.”

“Not this one. But given what she walked into, it’s no wonder Adelina came in with preconceived notions. We had the same about her as a prim and proper Mafia princess... and you.”

“And Sas?” I asked, clearing my throat.

“What about him?” asked Graff. “Even he’s getting a soft spot for the little princess.”

I wasn’t sure I believed that, except he was protecting her before they left. “You think he would be on board for polygamy?”

Graff eyed me sideways. “Wouldn’t be his first time sharing.”

A lump clogged my throat.

“What about Adelina?” asked Graff. “Everyone needs to communicate. Or it’s just cheating.”

“I think she’s open,” I said, surprising myself.

But what shocked me a little more was that I didn’t find the idea repulsive either.

Graff cocked a smile and headed for his bike, calling over his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

ADELINA

From how Iwas bound to the motorcycle and how we sped back to the warehouse, I would’ve thought Sas had some choice words for me, but he said absolutely nothing. He faced forward, darting between cars and barely braking when we turned.

I could barely peel my eyes open, hoping and praying he wouldn’t crash, or we wouldn’t be plowed into by a semi. It was late at night, sure, but LA was like Las Vegas. It never slept.

He pulled into the clubhouse parking lot, cut the engine, and jumped off the bike. For a split second, I was sure he was about leave me on the bike and outside for the rest of the night. It was just the type of bastard thing he would do, punishing me just to punish me without admitting his part in our mess.

Maybe forcing me to stay outside all night would’ve been better, because once he unhooked the bungee cords, he wrapped his fist in my hair and yanked me off the bike. My wrists were still bound together as I stumbled, his captive. He barely caught me before I fell, whipping back my head and nearly breaking my neck in the process. The stars danced above me until his face blurred.

And then . . .

He slammed his mouth to mine.

What the...? I lost any words as he penetrated my mouth with his tongue, his teeth grazed my lips, and I tasted pennies. It was like he intended to swallow me whole. I wanted to get lost in him.

Or anyone.

But damn, he tasted good. Like the sweet cigars I’d tried in one of Papà’s clubs. My mouth watered for more.

No, all of it.

Where had this sexual minx come from?

Was I really such a sick little slut that I needed this abuse to be so turned on?

He balled his hand up further, and I bent backward. Years of dance and gymnastic practice made my body flexible. But he seemed intent on finding my breaking point.

I wouldn’t break.

Ever.

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