Page 42 of Dark Mafia Vows

18

DARIO

Ginny is still sleeping in my bed when I wake up. I glance at the time. It’s 4:30 am. The last time I woke up this early was when I was still in my struggle to build my empire. Back then, late nights and early mornings were a usual occurrence for me.

I glance at the woman beside me, her soft body pressed against every inch of me as she sleeps. I watch the slow rise and fall of her chest like a hawk, unable to look away.

At some point during the night, our bodies became tangled together. Ginny is a deep sleeper, the kind who throws her hands and legs everywhere when she sleeps. And for some reason, I don’t mind that. I love that she’s all up in my space, that I can feel the heat of her body as it’s intertwined with mine.

What the hell is happening to me?

I move to get out of bed when she makes a soft sound in her throat before snuggling deeper into me. I can’t help the soft chuckle that escapes my lips. If I tell Ginny how she’s practically holding onto my body right now, she’ll bury her head in shame. Or better still, she wouldn’t even acknowledge it at all.

My eyes trail over her soft facial features. She looks very peaceful when she sleeps—the most relaxed I’ve ever seen her. Her dark hair spills all over my pillow, surrounding her head like a halo. Her long eyelashes fan her face, her cheeks are crushed into the pillow, and her mouth is parted slightly open. Her soft snores fill the room, doing something mushy to my insides.

My eyes trail down the column of her neck, and I work a swallow in my throat as they travel down to her breasts. The top of her nightgown has fallen dangerously low, revealing a peak of one rosebud nipple. This fucking nightdress. I curse low in my throat before reaching out to pull it back to its normal position.

But now, the image of her nipple is engrained in my head. It doesn’t help that as my eyes roam over the curve of her hips down to where her gown stops right below her ass, I’m imagining her naked and writhing under me.

I’ve felt her warmth clench around my fingers and have tasted her juices on my tongue. I thought that would make my craving stop. I thought it would satisfy this raging hunger within me. But it has only made me want more. Now, I want to see her naked body. I want to run my hand over the soft flesh as I slide my dick into her warm core.

We only slept together after I brought her to my room last night. I didn’t want to assume she’d be up for sex just yet. Not that I’d have had any trouble convincing her, but for some stupid, unusual reason, I’m willing to wait until we reach a better understanding through our frequent spats and animosity.

The idea of her still hating me while I’m with her doesn’t give me the usual thrill—it would be different if I knew she didn’t detest me quite so much.

Gritting my teeth, I pull the covers over my body before getting out of bed. By the time I get to the bathroom, I’m sporting a painful hard on. I quickly brush my teeth, skipshaving the two-day stubble on my chin, and head toward the shower.

The tiles are cool against my feet as I step in, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through me. I turn the knob, and the warm water cascades over my body, the rich scent of soap filling the air. I scrub my skin, working the suds into a thick foam, trying to wash away the heat, the tension, and the remnants of last night that cling to me like a second skin.

But as I rinse off, I switch to cold water, hoping to shock my system into submission. The icy spray hits me, sending shivers down my spine, but it does nothing to quell the fire within me. My thoughts drift back to Ginny, her defiance, the way she challenges me at every turn.

Then, my thoughts drift to her wetness, her soft moans against my ears, her wet pussy sliding over my face as she climaxed. I grit my teeth, the cold water only amplifying the turmoil inside me instead of doing the opposite.

Before I realize what I’m doing, my hands work up another lather, and I’m sliding my fist over my hard dick. My breathing increases as I move my fist up and down, the slick friction making me twitch with want.

I imagine myself sliding into her warm pussy, and I tighten my grip, imagining her wetness coating my cock as her walls clench around me. I let out a low groan, feeling my balls tighten at the pleasure, picturing her walls being stretched by my dick.

Her face flashes into my mind, flushed and panting with desire, and I picture myself fucking her, slowly at first, then slamming into her before our bodies start shaking and we come apart together. A few more pumps of my hand, and I’m spilling onto the tiled floor, gasping for breath, my eyes closed. I can hear my heartbeat echo in my ears, and I can feel the water trickle down my body.

I rinse myself off and step out of the shower, my frustration now at its peak. When I return to the bedroom, she’s still asleep. I turn away from her before I do something stupid like wake her up with my mouth between her legs.

Instead, I quickly get dressed in one of my expensive suits and shoes, slip my wallet into one of the pockets, grab my briefcase, and head out into the early morning air, hoping I can tuck all thoughts of Ginny far, far away.

I sit in my office,the dim light from the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. My eyes aimlessly roam across the wall opposite my desk, over the expensive art and various accolades lining its surface.

Right now, it all feels hollow. I glance at the ornate clock perched high above the other decorations on the wall. It’s 9:46 pm and my third night away from my house.

I’ve avoided the house for days, unable to shake the memory of Ginny and the moment we shared. And like now, every second I’ve spent away from her has been exhausted thinking about her. About her body, her mind, and her soul, if possible.

This wasn’t part of the plan. I’m supposed to hate her, to make her life miserable, yet here I am, stewing in my own thoughts, replaying every moment we spent together.

The silence is deafening, almost eerie, broken intermittently only by the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. I lean back in my chair, running a hand through my hair, frustration swirling within me. I shouldn’t have fucking kissed her.

Even before I touched her body, I knew the control she had over me. The way her hazel eyes managed to completely suck me in, the way the mere sight of her body left me mesmerized. Theonly woman I’ve ever craved so badly is the one woman I should avoid.

But I didn’t. I’d thought,Just one kiss and I’ll be satisfied. Instead, that one kiss had turned into tasting her, letting her taste me, and wanting more.

And more...

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