Page 5 of Dirty Mafia Sinner
My lips draw tight. Ciro’s LLC owns the building and was renovating it as a flip, up until C&C Enterprises won the casino contract. Progress has slowed, yet the workers completing the renovations still show up sporadically for a few hours’ work. I requested a better lock, but Ciro dismissed my concerns, reminding me about the expensive, high-tech keypad and the overpriced security cameras installed in the main entrance. “No place safer in Brooklyn,” he informed me, blowing me off.
“That’s the lock,” I reply, a bit unnerved by the stranger’s unwavering regard.
“The construction crew all women?”
“All women? No.”
“You can’t be that stupid.”
The insult shocks me like a blast of ice water in the face.You wanted to feel something, Riley. And he delivered.I wait for myanger to surface. Because he’s correct, a five-year-old could pick the lock.
His eyes bore into me as he leans casually against the door, radiating a heady combination of arrogance, power, and danger. My wildly thumping heart competes with the warning bells in my mind. I should feel insulted and demand he leave. But I won’t. The tension between us crackles, powerful enough to dissolve his harsh words and strip away my common sense.
“You’re right,” I murmur, and he blinks in surprise. “The lock needs replacing.”
His blue eyes are like the deepest sea, turbulent and unrelenting, dragging me into uncharted territory, as he studies me. But there’s no warning when he prowls forward, forcing me to step backward until I’m against the bathroom door, facing the entry. He places a hand to my right and draws in close, caging me. His head tips, and I gasp as his warm tongue touches below my ear. He smells like lemon and spice. Looks like a wet dream. And everything about him feels …right.
I must be losing my mind.
My lips part with a small gasp as he licks a trail across my jawline. “Why did you invite me inside?” he growls. A shiver races up my spine at his husky tone.
“You know why,” I whisper.
“You want me to fuck you.” Statement, not question.
I nod. Except how do I tell him it’s not just that? How do I invite a complete stranger—even one so shockingly handsome—to overpower me with sensation, play with each and every shattered piece within me, and make me feel alive?
His eyebrows pinch as he reads my expression.
“Please,” I beg.
He cups the back of my neck and holds me still while ever so slowly drawing a finger, like a knife blade, across my throat. Tostrike fear? To intimidate? To force me to squirm and push him off me?
It’s a dangerous game we’re playing. Even so, excitement licks up my spine as I act on instinct alone and tilt back my head, offering him my throat.
His grin catches me by surprise. Arrogant. Dangerous. Sexy beyond words.
His thumbs press against my throat. “Ever orgasm like this?”
Wide-eyed, I shake my head.
“Oxygen restriction heightens the pleasure.”
I’m at a loss for words. Don’t most men steal a kiss or grab ass as part of foreplay? Lean into it with charm and intent? “Erotic asphyxiation,” I murmur. “The brain releases endorphins and adrenaline, causing a drug-like high.”
His eyes pierce me, and my body warms beneath the intense scrutiny. Finally, he steps back. Loss sweeps over me, but it’s temporary.
“Take off your dress.”
My hands shake, yet I manage to reach behind me and unzip my black dress. It slides down my body and pools at my ankles. Leaving me in a flimsy lace bra and matching thong with a triangular patch that barely covers my sex.
“Holy fuck.”
His hungry gaze rakes over me while I stand frozen and he looks his fill. His reaction is reassuring, and Lord knows I need more than a flash of his wicked grin to counter the fact I’m slightly terrified.
He removes his belt and unbuttons his pants. Wow, is this really happening? Before I can change my mind, he’s spinning me around and pushing me belly-first into the door. My heart beats against the wooden panel. Rat-tat-tat. Rat-tat-tat. Every pulse is dialed into him.
My arms are pulled back, and expensive leather wraps around my wrists.
