Page 54 of Dark Mafia Vows

“Dario,” she moans as I tug her head backward to kiss her neck.

My tongue traces along her pulse point as my free hand grabs one of her breasts and squeezes firmly. Our moans mixed with grunts fill the silent garage as we rock faster, harder, deeper until...

“Oh fuck, I’m going to come,” she moans out loud.

My fingers clutch her waist even tighter as I thrust upward to meet her in the middle. Soon her body trembles as the wave of her orgasm crashes over her. She lets out a cry that is torn from her throat, and I feel my body tense up, my orgasm coursing through my veins like liquid fire, burning all the way down to my toes.

“Fuck,” I grunt as she comes down from her high, rolling her hips slowly as I ride out my climax.

Then she looks down at me, her cheeks flushed, her hazel eyes still glossy with lust. I stare at her for a moment, our breaths both heavy as the reality of what we just did comes crashing down on us.

“We didn’t use protection,” she says a bit shyly, biting her lower lip.

“I’m so sorry…I didn’t think. But I’m clean.” My voice comes out harder than I intended.

She swallows and nods. “Me, too. And I’m on the pill.”

When I crafted my revenge plan that involved marrying Ginny, pregnancy and children never crossed my mind. But now, the thought doesn’t seem as bad as it would have a few months ago.

And that is bad. Very bad.

Something is happening between Ginny and I, and if I don’t nip it at the bud, it’s going to eat the both of us whole.

23

GINEVRA

The air around us is thick with a different kind of tension as Dario pulls the car out of the quiet compound. The cold breeze from the AC vent bites my skin, making me shiver.

I sit in the passenger seat, stealing glances at Dario. His jaw is tight, and his hands grip the steering wheel with so much force that I fear he’ll break it.

We are both fully dressed now—sans my ripped panties that he slipped into his pocket—but the evidence of the past ravenous minutes is very much evident in his wild hair and flushed skin.

The night outside is dark and heavy, the streetlights casting bright lights that illuminate the winding streets. The car ride home feels like an eternity wrapped in silence. Each second stretches painfully long.

An unpleasant feeling pools in my stomach, and a heavy weight, thick and suffocating, hangs in my throat.

Memories of our heated moment in the garage flood my mind, and I wonder if he’s replaying it, too. I wonder if he liked it. Or if he’s filled with regret. I steal another glance at him—hisbrow is furrowed, and I can’t help but wonder what’s going on in his mind.

I pull my gaze away from him, my stomach tightening again. My gaze remains outside the window until we approach the familiar, luxurious street of his house. As we pull into the driveway, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the awkwardness that’s sure to follow. The car stops, and the silence feels deafening.

He opens the door and steps out, the sharp movement sending a jolt through me. I quickly follow suit before he crosses over to the passenger side, my heart pounding as we walk side by side toward the entrance.

The night is still and cold, the only sound being the crunch of gravel beneath our feet. I want to say something, anything to break the silence, but my words hang thick in my throat.

Dario unlocks the door and steps aside for me to walk past. As I move in, the faint scent of his expensive cologne hits me, and I’m reminded of how I kissed and licked his neck earlier.

The atmosphere seems even more tense and awkward as we both make our way up the stairs with Dario behind me. I feel his hot gaze slither down my exposed back, and my whole body is up in flames.

When we get to the top corridor, I’m reminded that we don’t share the same bedroom, and exactly why I left his room on the first day. The irony isn’t lost on me. I didn’t want to share a bed with him, but now I’ve done even more than that.

I’ve had sex with the man.

I hesitate for a moment, searching for the right words, the right line of action. After the first night I spent on his bed, he basically hadn’t spent the night here until late last night while I was already asleep.

I wonder if he expects me to follow him to his bedroom since I’ve spent a night there before. Does he expect me to sleep inhis room regularly now because we’ve had sex? But if he doesn’t, it would be weird to just ignore the man I’ve just had sex with, right? But why do I have to be the one to say something?

Exhaling a short, frustrated breath, I manage to mumble a whisper of a greeting.

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