Page 34 of Owned by the Italian Mafia Boss
At least, I thought so.
Until her lips met mine, and the entire fucking world stopped. That kiss is the only thing I’ve been able to think about. Watching her study was torturous. I wanted nothing more than to slam her against the shelf again and slide between her legs, showing her what life with me could be like.
I’ll give her pleasure.
I’ll give her pain.
I’ll give her everything she fucking craves.
Anything she wants. Whatever she asks for. I’ll give it to her.
If she thought I was intense before, if she thought I was possessive and controlling, I’m unhinged now. I’m addicted.
She won’t ever be able to escape me. I’ll hunt her down and bring her home if she tries to. She is meant to be at my side. A king needs a queen, and Delilah deserves the throne.
My cock has been stone since that heated, forbidden kiss in the library, and I know she must be in need too.
Delilah is in bed now, sleeping soundly, and I lean against the wall, arms crossed over my chest, thinking of how she hasn’t spoken to me since our kiss. And she went to bed without kissing me, breaking the contract we agreed upon.
I won’t be able to lie with her for a few hours. I have business I need to attend to, but I still want my kiss.
“Carmine.” Matias peeks his head into the room. “We’re ready.”
“Give me five minutes,” I say to him, never taking my eyes off Delilah.
He nods, closing the door to leave me alone with the woman who has taken over every aspect of my mind. I push off the wall and lean over her, my fingers brushing the hair out of her face.
“Delilah,” I whisper, wanting to wake her up gently. “Sweetling, wake up.” I brush my lips across her ear and kiss her cheek. Finally, she shifts and stretches her arms over her head.
“Carmine?” My name sounds drugged from how sleepily she is. “What’s wrong?”
“You forgot something,” I remind her, rolling her onto her back.
“What?”
“I want my goodnight kiss. You went to sleep without giving it to me, and I really want my fucking kiss,” I say, skimming the tip of my nose across hers. I want her lips again, before I must deal with the real world.
Her eyes widen, suddenly wide awake, and she sits up, rubbing her eyes. “I’m sorry. I was tired; I didn’t fall asleep to ignore it—”
I press my finger against her lips to silence her. “It’s okay. I need to go somewhere, Delilah. Before I go, I need you to kiss me goodnight.”
“Where are you going?”
“There’s work that needs to be done,” I say without context, not wanting to let her know. She already thinks so little of me. I don’t want to give her extra ammunition. I keep my voice easy and gentle, not wanting to cause her any panic. I want her to remain calm and sleepy—she’s beautiful like that.
“Carmine, what is it? What’s going on? Is it my father?”
I shake my head and kiss her forehead. “No, Sweetling. Your father is safe. Always. You have my word on that.”
“Then why do you need to leave in the middle of the night? Come to…” She swallows, unsure if she wants to finish her sentence. “Come to bed.” She scoots over and pats my side of the bed. “I promise I won’t leave in the morning. Is that what this is about? That I’ll leave?”
She sounds so damn sleepy, and it’s making me feel those things I don’t want to feel. I think any good I have inside me, anything worth saving will be only for Delilah.
What’s she doing to me? I can’t afford to get soft. I have too many enemies. My job consists of having my blood on my hands and wiping them clean as if the murder had never happened.
“No, Sweetling, no, and even if you did, you know I’d find you. You can’t get far.” I brush my knuckles down her hot, flushed cheeks, the pillowcase imprint indented into her skin, and I find it charming because she looks so at home. “Remember the kind of man I am. I have business I have to attend to,” I remind her, staring into her innocent emerald irises.
I wait for her to be repulsed, to fight me, but she places her hand on my cheek and leans forward.
