Page 17 of Taboo Flames

With a furious curse, I fist my hand into the girl’s hair and spin her around until she is on her hands and knees. Pushing her thong to the side, I push into her in one single thrust. She lets out a muffled moan as I begin to fuck her ruthlessly.

No matter how hard I fuck her, though, I can’t chase Aurora from my mind, and neither can I cum. I pull out of the woman’s wet heat and wrap my hands around my aching cock, then tug on it, imagining it was Aurora before me, her ass up, legs spread wide, and wet pussy bared for me.

Only then do I reach my release. I cum with a loud shout, my seed splattering across the floor, and then I look at the girl, angry at how useless she was in curing me of my Aurora problem.

“Lick it,” I command, and she’s just about to use a finger to scoop it up when I speak again. “Off the ground with your tongue.”

She looks at me like I have just grown horns on my head, but she knows better than to defy me. She bends and laps at it eagerly like the filthy girl she is.

“Such a good little slut. Don’t let it go to waste. Lick up every drop,” I urge her. I try to feel a sense of satisfaction over what just happened, but not even my orgasm helps in making me feel less agitated.

It doesn’t matter how many women I fuck from here to Timbuktu. There is only one that will give my body what it needs.

She’s also the one I have to stay as far away from as possible. If she can have this much effect on me when I haven’t even touched her yet, I wonder what will happen when I eventually touch her.

When…not if.

Because, at this point, I very much know it’s only a matter of time.

CHAPTER 5

Aurora

The cafe Giovanni owns in Sicily is a small, cozy place tucked in between a bookshop and a pawnshop. From the outside, it is rather unassuming, but only a select few know what goes on on the inside.

The cafe, like most other mafia businesses, is simply a front. Money is cleared through legal businesses, and the locations are also secretly used to run much darker operations. Kind of like hiding in plain sight.

I walk into the cafe, the bell at the door tinkling to announce my arrival.

A lone employee at the counter looks up at me, and then her eye shifts to the closed sign at the door.

“I’m here for Gio,” I explain.

She just shrugs and goes back to wiping down the counter. I walk deeper into the cafe toward Gio’s office at the back.

I open the door without knocking, and four pairs of eyes immediately land on me, their expressions ranging fromsurprise to suspicion to knowing. The other three eventually look away, but Gio’s eyes never leave mine.

The air in the room is tense. When I first walked in, Gio had a look of deadly fury, but that look has now been replaced by a detached calm as he looks at me.

“Hey,” I say shyly.

He’s in a navy, pinstriped, three-piece suit with the outer jacket missing, and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up his arms, revealing the tattoos lining his skin.

“Sit,” he instructs before going back to his conversation with them.

I roll my eyes and take a seat on the dark brown sofa pushed against the wall. I forgot how much of an asshole he was, and for the umpteenth time, I ask myself what I’m doing here.

On the one hand, in a world of red flags, Gio is a carnival banner. He’s controlling, manipulative, a liar, an asshole, and also condescending as hell.

But on the other hand, he’s the only man I feel safe around, and if I’m being honest, knowing one of his men is watching me at all hours of the day is the only thing keeping me from having a full-blown panic attack.

At first, I think Gio’s whole attention is on the discussion he’s having with his men until I notice his eyes keep shifting to me. I smirk smugly when I catch his eyes. From across the room, I see his jaw clench before he looks away.

I cross my legs, causing my dress to ride indecently up my thighs. When Gio looks over again, I lean back on the settee, thrusting my chest out.

His eyes darken as they land on my mass of exposed flesh.

I take it one step further by slowly uncrossing my legs and running my fingers achingly slowly from my knees up and into the inside of my thighs. His eyes follow the movement, and itfeels like a physical touch with the way it leaves tendrils of heat in its wake.

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