Page 17 of Dark Mafia Vows

“Your attempts at intimidating me don’t scare me, Dario,” I bite out, and I hear a low curse escape his throat.

“Say my name again, Ginny,” he rasps. “I love the way it sounds on your lips.”

Every attempt at reminding myself how terrible this man is falls flat at the thick desire evident in his voice. It’s my first time calling him by his real name since we met again, and I make the mental note to never repeat it. I have a string of more befitting nicknames for him.

“You feel it, don’t you?” His breath ghosts across my neck, and goosebumps rise on my skin as his hot breath fans my earlobe, causing the hair there to stand on end. I bite back a moan when he secures both my wrists in one hand before slidinghis free hand over my stomach. I gasp as the big hand comes to rest directly under my left breast.

“What the fuck were you thinking coming here without wearing a bra, Ginny?” he rasps, and I swallow, feeling my insides clench and twist.

I clearly wasn’t thinking at all. I’d been so eager to sneak out of the house that I didn’t even realize I was only in a flimsy dress. And when I saw him earlier, the way his eyes zoomed in on my exposed legs, only then did I feel naked under his gaze.

“I was fucking pissed,” I hiss, finding my voice.

“And are you still pissed, Ginny?”

My toes curl in my flats, and I feel wetness pool in my panties. He only calls my name when he’s serious, and I can’t decide if that makes this situation better or worse.

“Let go of me.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he says before chuckling. “Perhaps I should take that as my answer, that you’re no longer pissed.”

“Fuck you!”

“Maybe later I’ll let you do that, Princess. How would you like it? Gentle, hard... Rough?”

I groan inwardly. How does he manage to twist every single thing I say?

“Does overpowering people you’re physically stronger than make you feel better about yourself? Does it make you feel like more of a man when you exert your power over others?” I say in a mocking tone.

I want to annoy him, to infuriate him the way he does me, but my words only earn me a chuckle.

“What do you think?”

At this point, I’ve almost relaxed into his hold. His hand is still under my boob, now tracing idly under the curve of my breast.

A low hum escapes my throat.

“Let’s see. I think you should listen when a woman tells you to leave her alone. Can you do that for me?” I say it in a sickly-sweet tone, like I would tell a kindergartener.

As I expect, he laughs again. For a man as intimidating and dangerous as he, laughing comes easy to him. Or maybe he’s just doing it to spite me. He knows exactly how to get under my skin.

“Is that why you’re no longer fighting against me? Because you want me to let you go?” he mocks.

My body burns, and I remember why I hated him in the first place. I know it won’t end well if I keep fighting, and I hope maybe that will push him into loosening his grip. But a part of my brain, the one that’s dirty and unhinged, likes the way his fingers are dangerously near my nipples, the way his warm breath tickles my neck when he taunts me.

“It’s getting late.” I harden my voice. “My brother will soon notice I’m gone, and I don’t want him to get worried.”

“You should have thought about that when you decided to physically confront the man you think planned to kill you,” he says through gritted teeth, and I hate that his words are true.

Coming here was a stupid mistake.

“Never try something like this again, Ginny.” The warmth is now gone from his voice. Instead, he snarls coldly, “If you were someone else, I would have made you pay heavily for stalking me--”

“I didn’t?—”

“Finding the address of someone you met once at a party and waiting for them at their house is exactly that, Princess,” he harshly interrupts.

It sounds so bad when he says it like that, but that’s because he’s a master at twisting the truth. And twisting people.

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