Page 5 of Owned by the Italian Mafia Boss
He wraps a hand around my throat and leans closer, his lips almost touching mine. “You’ll be begging me to fuck you, Sweetling. And you'll be screaming my namewhenI do, not if. Everything about you will be mine. Those are the terms. Deal or no deal.”
Something about that sounds so good, so wrong, so tempting, but I ignore my body’s reaction and think of my father.
“Deal,” I grit, yanking free from his grip.
I can still feel the sear of his hand around my throat, hating how much I now crave his touch.
I’m a horrible daughter for liking how this man makes me feel.
I’m in hell, the soon to be bride to The Devil, himself.
Chapter One
Carmine
What I love about innocence is how easy it is to take.
Delilah has no idea what she has agreed to. I’m not a man who will change my mind because she bats those pretty eyes at me or pins those pink, full lips. While I want to ruin her in the best and worst ways, business is always first.
If there is one thing I’ve learned in my life, it’s to always protect yourself no matter the cost.
And beauty like hers, if I allow it, will cost me.
She’s sitting there with her arms crossed, her chin up, and a hate-filled glint in her narrowed eyes. Weaker men might choose to die to gain a single glance from a woman like Delilah.
A sweet little flower.
And she’s made a deal for me to pluck every petal from her soul.
She’ll be ruined for everyone else.
I have a feeling she’ll ruin me too, but I can’t decide if it’s for the best or not. I don’t like how my hand still burns from touching her. I don’t enjoy touch. Touch has only ever inflicted pain in the past, so now I decide when and where touch happens.
Delilah is already making me forget my own fucking rules. Gripping her neck wasn’t planned, and everything I do is calculated and thought out in detail.
But I couldn’t help myself. I can’t help myself. Not when her skin reminds me of the finest silk, aching to be appreciated and dying for someone to wrap themselves in it.
“I’ll have a contract delivered to you shortly.”
“Excuse me?” she scoffs, slapping her hands on the chair’s leather arms before pushing herself to her feet.
I lean against my desk, the edge digging into my lower back. “Is there an issue, Ms. Reynolds?”
“Yes, there’s an issue. You want me to sign a contract? I’m not a transaction—”
A rumble crawls its way up my throat, and impatience blinds me for a split second, but one second is all it takes. I grip her wrist and swing her against the desk. A harsh exhale escapes her when the edge digs into her back, taking the place of where I was standing. I lean forward, bracing my hands on either side of her.
Her warm, unsteady breaths are pure temptation against my lips, but I refuse to give in. Her eyes widen while she leans away from me, but there’s nowhere for her to go. Invading her space is what I’ll live for the moment she signs the dotted line.
Lowering my voice, I meet her eyes, mapping every expression crossing her face. “You are a transaction, Sweetling.” I curl over her. “You.” I lean forward, even more, her body brushing mine, and I try to ignore how good she feels pressed against me. “Came.” I whisper across her cheek, and she turns her head away, but the goosebumps across her skin speak the truth. “To.” Images of her naked across my desk or bent over, taking my cock, screaming my name fill my mind. Or she’s under the desk between my legs, sucking me down her throat while I take care of business. “Me.” I kiss her cheek and lift my hand, pressing my fingers against her jaw to force her to look at me.
We stare each other down, pride against pride clashing, neither of us wanting to show weakness. “You came into my home, wanted to speak with me, to save your father’s life, and made a deal. I do not do business with a handshake, Sweetling. This is real business. You’re getting something out of it, and I’m getting something out of it.”
She curls her lip and sneers. “I bet you are.”
A dark chuckle escapes me; it sounds like a laugh echoing down a tunnel. It’s one of disbelief. My hand roams to her neck, my fingers easily wrapping around the back of it. My grip tightens, and she gasps. I pull her forward until we’re both standing straight, nose to nose.
“Make no mistake; you will be in control of when we have sex. I’m not the type of man to force myself on anyone. You will beg me to fuck you, Sweetling. You’ll do anything for me to ease the ache that will be burning inside you.”
