Page 52 of Dark Mafia Vows

DARIO

Every single shred of control in me snaps the moment my lips crash against Ginny’s. I’ve been struggling to rein myself in all night, but after seeing another man’s filthy hands on her, touchingmy woman, my wife,I lose it completely.

But she’s not really your wife—you feel nothing for her, remember?

The thought creeps in, a mocking voice in the back of my mind, taunting me. I shove it aside, burying it in the darkest corner of my head.

It doesn’t matter what our arrangement is supposed to mean. Not now. Not when I’m holding her like this, tasting her, feeling the heat of her body against mine.

For now, all that matters is this moment, and the fire burning between us.

My hand slides into the back of her hair, gripping just enough to tilt her head as I deepen the kiss, my tongue teasing hers while my other hand pulls her body flush against mine. She moans into my mouth, melting against me, and the sound drives me wild.

I tug her bottom lip between my teeth, biting just enough to make her gasp—a sound that only ignites the fire already raging inside me. I’ve been craving this all day, burning with the need to touch her, to claim her since I walked away from her this morning.

I feel her nails digging into my skin through the fabric of my tux, her body trembling under my touch. The sensation sends a thrill through me, pushing me to the edge of control. I want to mark her, to leave a reminder for anyone foolish enough to come near her. I need everyone to know she’s mine—no one else can have her.

“Dario,” she gasps, her breath hitching as my hand slides over her exposed thigh, slipping beneath the slit of her dress.

“I’ve been dying to do this all night,” I growl, gripping the soft flesh of her thigh and letting my thumb glide over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “This fucking dress...”

She lets out a choked gasp, her hand tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling me closer, her need mirroring my own.

“Someone could come in,” she breathes, her voice shaking with desire, but there’s no conviction behind the words.

As if on cue, the elevator pings, signaling that we are approaching the ground floor. I trail my eyes over her face, which glows with pure desire. Her eyes are dark pools full of lust as she looks up at me, her lips red and swollen from our passionate kissing, her lipstick now smudged.

The sight only enhances the arousal burning low in my belly and stokes the heat coursing through my veins.

The elevator comes to a stop, and with our hands still firmly intertwined, we step out. The lobby is almost deserted, save for the receptionist, who looks up at the sound of Ginny’s heels clicking against the tiled floor. But I don’t care who’s watching. I’m not letting go of her tonight.

Outside the main entrance ahead of us, I can still make out the small crowd of reporters and photographers standing there, probably waiting to capture the guests that are arriving late.

Grabbing her hand tighter, I pull Ginny toward the side exit which leads to the back of the garage. She stumbles along beside me while I quickly text my driver to meet us by the valet entrance.

The short journey feels longer, and all I can think about is how I want to kiss her again so badly and how much I need to be inside her. Just thinking about it is enough to get me painfully hard.

As we step through the side door, the cool air of the garage envelops us. The faint hum of fluorescent lights casts a sterile glow that illuminates the rows of parked vehicles. Just ahead, I immediately spot the Lamborghini Urus parked ahead, the polished exterior gleaming under the soft light.

I squeeze Ginny’s hand as we approach the car, and on spotting us, my driver, Timoteo, pulls open the door.

The moment we climb into the luxurious leather seats, I take Ginny’s face into my hands before leaning down to devour her lips like a starving man. This time, she eagerly returns the kiss and wraps her arms around my neck, her fingers gripping tightly at my shoulders.

The kiss is heated, hungry, and utterly desperate. I slide my hand under the slit of her dress again, feeling the familiar warmth between her legs. She moans as she tilts her hips, urging my hands higher.

“Fuck, Ginny,” I groan before pulling her roughly across my lap over my throbbing erection.

The sounds of our heated breathing echo off the walls of the car. Timoteo, who is still standing by the car, can hear us by now, and the thought of him hearing the sounds of Ginny’s moans fills me with feral possessiveness.

I want to ask him to get out, but when Ginny rolls her hips over me, I can’t form coherent thoughts anymore. All I can think about is the feel of the sleek curves of Ginny’s ass under her dress and how I want to get her naked.

My dick strains against my pants, begging me to unzip the fly, slide her panties to the side, and fuck her with her dress on. I want to be rough. I want to rip her clothes off until I can see every inch of her smooth porcelain skin. But it’ll be our first time, and a part of me that deeply cares about her wants it to be special.

“We should head home,” I groan against Ginny’s lips.

She makes a low sound of protest in her throat before rolling her hips again.

“Shit, Ginny,” I groan, grabbing the back of her neck to keep her still. “Keep doing that, and I’ll fuck you right here without caring if anyone sees or hears us.”

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