Page 57 of Mafia King's Bride

Her skin glows under the faint light, and my groin stirs as I picture her lying under me, her luscious hair fanned over my pillow.

We head into the spacious salon with two plush couches and a bar filled with aged and expensive bottles inside well-polished mahogany cases.

I gesture to the smaller couch, and when she sits, I head behind the bar, opening the glass case at the bottom left. I take out a bottle of champagne and two flutes. Setting them down on the counter, I open the bottle and pour some into the glasses.

“Here.” I hand her one, my fingertips brushing against hers and sending a jolt of desire through me. Mesmerized, I watch as she brings it to her mouth, wetting her lower lip with her tongue, her gaze fixed on my mouth. Her lips part slightly, and my cock strains against my pants as she lazily drags her eyes to mine,taking a sip and smiling. I’m so hot for her, I’m about to burst into flames.

Hold your horses, buddy. Take it slow.

“How about a tour?” I ask, breaking the spell.

“Sure,” she agrees, placing her glass down and taking my hand. Her palm is small and warm against mine, and I brush her soft skin with my fingers, looking forward to feeling more of her skin pressed against me. My gaze flickers to her as she walks next to me, taking in her facial features, from her curled lashes to the hair cascading down her shoulders and the subtle blush on her lips. They roam downward to her sandals, and I notice the sheer pink pedicure on her toes.

Everything about Anastasia is beautiful. But it always has been. I’ve just been blind to it before.

We venture downstairs, stopping at the guest suite.

“These,” I point to the two doors facing each other, “are for visitors. Though I rarely have any. But they’re fully equipped with everything you’d need for an impromptu trip.”

Her head bobs slightly. Moving on, we go into the kitchen. “This is barely in use too. Most of the time, I have food delivered instead of having it prepared here. Although, today’s going to be different.”

“Oh?” She tilts her head.

Her monotonous answers make me want to see her unravel.

Under me.

We didn’t resolve the impression she had of me last night—about my lack of enthusiasm during our dinner together. Tonight, I have every intention of not holding back and showing her the depth of my desire.

“The chef will be here in thirty minutes.”

We go back topside, and I point out the helm station and the fly bridge above. After, I lead her to the bow where string lights drape across the railing, winking to life as dusk falls.

Cushioned lounge chairs are strategically arranged to face the direction of the receding sun. “Let’s sit down.” I gesture toward them.

Her soft smile grows wider, making my heart skip a beat. “Okay.”

We settle in side by side and stare out into the horizon. A comfortable silence grows between us, but the thoughts in my mind keep it busy. I remain quiet, though more because I’m waiting for the right time.

It’s odd.

In all my life, I’ve never felt compelled to make things perfect. Trying to fill in my father’s shoes, yes, but not when it comes to cultivating relationships with other people.

I turn to Ana, my gaze calculating and intense. The warm light bathes her in a golden glow.

Something has shifted. This woman, meant to be nothing more than a pawn, has wormed her way past my defenses. It’s a weakness I can’t afford, but one I find increasingly difficult to ignore.

Ana meets my eyes, and I feel the air charge with tension. I’ve faced down rival mobsters without flinching, but her gaze threatens to unravel me.

I won’t allow it.

“There’s something you need to know,” I state, my voice low and commanding.

She nods, wary but curious. “What is it?”

I close the distance between us with measured steps, a predator stalking its prey. “You’ve become...valuable to me,” I rumble, the words foreign on my tongue. “I believe the feeling is mutual.”

Her breath catches, and I note the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

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