Page 68 of Dark Mafia Vows

She moans loudly, one hand gripping the edge of the counter while the other one tugs on the hair at the nape of my neck. The action feels incredible, and it’s almost impossible to keep my eyes open from the pleasure.

My thrusts become faster, harder, deeper, and my movements become rougher and more demanding. Her fingers are digging into my back now, the sting of her nails sending electric shocks down my spine and through my dick.

Her moans become louder as my thrusts become harder.

“Dario,” she moans one last time as her body quakes, coming undone in my arms.

I feel my balls tighten, and with one last deep thrust, I join her, my orgasm crashing into me like a tidal wave. Panting heavily, I collapse against her, resting against the edge of the cool tile. Our foreheads are pressed together, our breathing mingling in the air. We stay like that for a few seconds, letting our hearts slow before turning toward each other.

Her hazel eyes are still wild and filled with lust. Her chest heaves rapidly, and a slow smile spreads across her lips. Then she cups my cheeks and leans down to kiss me again.

Our lips and tongues move lazily against each other for a few minutes, neither of us wanting to do much of anything other than bask in the moment.

When I finally pull away from her again, I catch the hint of anger in her eyes.

“You were an asshole earlier,” she murmurs.

I sigh, pressing our foreheads together for the millionth time. “I know I was. I’m sorry.”

I see the surprise flicker in her eyes as she looks at me with those golden-green eyes.

“Promise me you’ll stop acting like a jerk then,” she says softly.

I kiss her forehead. “I promise,” I whisper against her skin.

And I realize that I would do almost everything for her, even if it involved the one person that I hate the most—her brother.

29

GINEVRA

The sound of Dario’s car engine fades into the distance as I sit up in bed, the remnants of sleep still clinging to me. I stretch like a cat, a yawn escaping my lips as I elongate my limbs.

The sheets are still warm from his body, and my body thrums with the echoes of last night.

A smile creeps onto my face, memories flooding back—how his hands couldn’t seem to leave me alone, how we fucked in different positions until we were both spent. And later, when he thought I was asleep, the way he pressed a tender kiss on my forehead, his warm breath fanning across my skin as he whispered, “Sweet dreams, Princess.”

Things are undeniably different between us now. We’re no longer two people bound by a union steeped in hate and revenge. Instead, we’ve become entwined, spending every day Dario isn’t at work together. Almost every night, our bodies are tangled, lost in waves of intense pleasure and passion.

We always end up sleeping naked, whether it’s in his bedroom or mine, never apart.

As the days pass, I can’t deny it any longer—I don’t hate this life we’ve carved out together. Living in the same house with him, sleeping in his bed, wearing his ring... With our wedding looming closer, I’m surprised to find that I don’t feel as panicked about it as I once did.

The idea of becoming his wife doesn’t seem so terrible anymore. In fact, I find myself imagining what it might be like to bear his last name.

Ginevra De Luca. It has a nice ring to it.

I know better than to indulge these thoughts. I understand that I shouldn’t get swept away by whatever this is between us. Feelings and emotions aren’t supposed to factor into our equation—not for us.

But I can’t ignore the truth that’s taking root inside me. The flutter in my chest when he presses soft kisses on my skin, the butterflies in my stomach when he compliments my baking, the hitch in my breath when he tells me I’m beautiful. And the undeniable heat that pools in my core when he whispers how he can’t wait to be inside me...

A warm, fuzzy feeling envelops me at the thought. Could this be something more than just lust or infatuation?

Could this be love?

A sharp breath escapes my lips at the realization, and I shake my head, dragging myself out of bed, determined not to dwell on it any longer.

As I plant my feet on the floor, my eyes land on the remnants of last night—a sock tossed carelessly near the closet, a tie draped over the edge of the single sofa against the wall, and a crumpled shirt half-hidden under the chair.

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