Page 15 of Savage Mafia King

I slip my tongue into her mouth, then let my teeth catch on her lower lip for a moment. I feel her moaning, and my cock stirs to hardness at once. I can't wait to hear her moan while I'm buried inside her, up to the hilt, to watch her face as she comes on my cock. I kiss her harder, and her fingers rake down my back, needy. I love feeling her like this, feeling her give in to me and this desire that has coursed between the two of us since the moment we met. It might not be a good idea, but as I grab her hand and pull it toward my erection, I find it hard to give a damn.

You see how fucking hard you make me, baby? I don't even need to say the words out loud, she knows what I'm trying to show her. I feel her gasp and rub my cock against her palm. Even through my pants, it feels so fucking good. I can only imagine how much better it will feel when she has her hand wrapped around me for real, stroking me, getting me off.

But I need to know just how hot she is for me, too. I let my hand trace down to her thigh, and her legs open as if on instinct. Gliding my fingers upward, I expect to be met by thefabric of her panties, but there's nothing there. Good girl, going without underwear. She knew there would be no reason to wear them if we were together.

Finally, I trail my finger along the outside of her pussy, her soft folds so tempting that it takes everything I have not to just lift her up and open her legs and bury my face into her. But I'm going to take my time. I'm going to make her beg for me.

My fingers dip into her slick pussy, and—

I wake up with a start, my head snapping up from the pillow. The dream is so vivid that I can still practically feel her silky-soft pussy beneath my fingertips, can almost feel her mouth against mine as she pleads with me for more.

I run a hand through my hair and remind myself where I am—in bed, alone. No girl beside me, let alone a girl like her. And it's far from a good sign that I'm starting to dream about her. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to contain myself, if my brain is already throwing these sexy curveballs at me when I close my eyes.

My phone buzzes, and I reach over to pick it up from my bedside table before I have a chance to think twice.

"Hello?"

"Marcus?"

It's her. Her voice is shaky, and I snap upright, already worried about her.

"Isabella? What's going on?"

"I-I don't know," she confesses, her voice trembling helplessly. "I just... I thought I was okay, but I..."

"What happened, Isabella?"

I get to my feet and begin to pace. Much as I don't want to think about anything happening to her, I know that there's a chance she's gotten pulled into something she can't handle. After the way everything went down the night before, I wonder if someone has made a move against her, maybe after overhearing the way I was talking to her.

She draws in a deep, shaky breath and finally manages to get the words out. "I-I came back to my penthouse yesterday," she confesses. "And it was trashed, Marcus. Someone was in here and tore the place apart. I don't know what to make of it, I feel like..." She trails off again, and this time, I can hear her starting to cry.

I hate it. I run my hand through my hair, biting back a curse.

"Why didn't you tell me yesterday?"

"I thought I could handle it," she admits. "But I... I woke up this morning, and I saw everything and the note, and I just couldn't take it anymore. I feel so violated, knowing someone went through my stuff like this, it's..."

"The note? What are you talking about?"

"They left a note, whoever did this, warning me that things were only going to get worse..."

"Stay there," I reply. "I'm coming to get you."

She breathes a sigh of relief. Whether or not she's willing to admit it, this is exactly what she wanted. "Thank you, Marcus."

I hang up the phone and get dressed and make my way downstairs. Gio is in the kitchen, and he calls out to me as I go past.

"You running off to your girl, Marcus?"

I round on him. "How the hell did you know I was going to her?"

He stares at me for a moment, his eyebrows raised. "I didn't. What's going on?"

I stride toward him, blind anger clouding my vision. I'm sure that it's going to do me no good to turn this on him, not when he's clearly so oblivious to what's going on, but I won't let him just say whatever he wants.

"Was it you? Huh?"

"Was what me?" he spits back, facing me head-on as I reach him.

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