Page 100 of Runaway in the Mafia
Maybe it was work?
I pushed off the foot of the counter, slithered back up, and reached for a grape. I didn’t want him to go away. On the other hand, I really had to call Delhi, and him buried inside me twenty-four seven wasn’t giving me any opportunities.
My skin heated. I picked my head up to pinpoint the source of it darkening the doorway. He was staring at me intently. Suspiciously. Guilt sank into my rib cage.I should tell him. We can figure out a way out of this. Right?
My indecision disgusted me. Each day that went by made me lose a part of myself. The worst part was that the only one responsible for it was me. But I couldn’t get myself to open my mouth and tell him my secret, or to press the button and call my parents. I hated myself. A long time ago, I’d thought I was strong. The truth was the reality of life had shown me I was nothing but a coward. For how long could I keep this hidden from him? I opened my mouth, words stuck in my windpipe, thought twice about it, and sealed it off for the thousandth time. It didn’t seem like the right time.Coward.
His mood was volatile. He stormed over to the counter, banded his hand around my ankle, and yanked me to the edge.
I shrieked.
He split my legs wide like his personal scissors and growled at my wet core. “I’m going to kill the fucker.”
“Who?” I choked.
“Don’t know. The first person I come across for making me go out.”
Right. There was no way I was telling him. He’d probably light a fire to my parents’ gated villa with them in it. He didn’t seem like he’d keep anything a secret to save my family’s reputation.
“Have to leave,” he muttered bitterly with his gaze still pinned to my core.
“Okay.”
Then he yanked me further and pulled me up. An explosion of animalistic kisses bruised my lips. It didn’t look like he was leaving anytime soon, given the thickness behind his pants. I pasted myself on him, wrapped my hands around his neck, and ran my nails all over his naked chest.
“Have to go,” he muttered.
“Okay,” I murmured.
He pulled away. His eyes were a cocktail of emotions I was too drunk to read. The intent way he stared at me sent goosebumps of unease along my skin. When he dipped his lips back to mine, everything had changed. His lips were soft. Almost subtle. Silk on silk. He tugged the collar of his shirt off my breast and suckled. Soft bites, lazy licks and sweet nips on my nipple. I groaned. My core clenched against his zipped erection. This was so different. So unlike him. I couldn’t decide what I preferred. Both had me groaning into his mouth and humping against him in desperation. I dug into his pocket and took the silver foil out. Breaking off him, I tugged it between my lips, ripped it off, and took the rubber out. He stroked my hair and kissed the nape of my bent head unhurriedly. He’d either forgotten that he had to leave, or it wasn’t important. I lined the rubber up with his swollen head. The warm rasp of his voice hit the dip behind my ear. “You’re going to be the end of me.”
My skin broke out in goosebumps. Terror crowded into my chest. I didn’t want anything to be the end of him. I squeezed the rubber onto his thickness, hands trembling. He waited patiently, his shirt riding up to my breast as he ran his hands from my hips to my chest.
“It’s done,” I exclaimed, leaning back, blinking away stupid tears.
“Best fucking job,” he murmured before tugging me closer and wrapping my legs around him. When he sank into me, therewas more weight in it than any of the other times he’d taken me. It felt like he was giving me the whole of him. Naked. Bare. All only for me.
His gaze on me hummed with an emotion that made my lungs ache for my next breath. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he groaned before he pulled entirely out. The emptiness he left behind was agonising. I chased after him and pulled him in. He groaned, buried his lips in my neck, and pushed inside. “Don’t come until I tell you.”
“Don’t think I can,” I moaned.
“You can do anything you put your mind to.”
Those words alone made me bite my lips and hold tight. He moved slow and deep. He lifted his head off my neck and cupped my face. His eyes on me were so sharp. Too intense. Guilt twisted inside me. A chunk of me broke off. I had to tell him. I didn’t want to hold it. I tried to break off. He didn’t let me. “It’s not easy,” I sobbed.
His thumb ran along my lip. “I know.”
We both knew we weren’t talking about coming. Sweat beaded down my back. My insides clenched around him.
“Please,” I pleaded, tears running down my face.
“What do you want? You know I’ll give it to you.”
“You. Just you.”
Conflict played across his face. Then he shifted his speed to hard instead of soft. My toes curled. My nipples were hard points of cold metal against his hot naked abs. My chest filled with a surge of emotions. Need. Pain. Guilt. He wrapped his hand around my cheek and delivered a hot demand, curled with need. “Come for me, baby.”
My lungs emptied of a deep, intense moan. It slithered up my throat and split into the air as a half-concealed sob. I squeezed around him. He jerked inside me. My toes tingled and a hot flushburst through my body as I came with him, riding a wave of the most intense pleasure.
