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The shadows and blurry details of his face are not the same today. His beard is thicker, wilder, but that is not what has my eyes filling with wonder. It is the thick, large and black framed glasses that he adorns over his eyes.
Marco De Vico, head boss of one of the most dangerous mafias in New York City, wears glasses. This knowledge should make me giggle, but like always for some stupid reason, it pulls me to him even more. It makes him feel human, ordinary. And the longer I look at him, the more I feel unexplainable things for him. Things like curiosity, like the need to kiss him. Suddenly, I am dying to know what his lips would feel like on mine. If he kisses like he touches, all rough and consuming. If his beard will hurt my skin when it scratches against me, if I will like it when it does.
When the urge becomes too much to bear, I decide against all my reasoning and remaining sanity to tilt my head up, pressing my lips to his suddenly as a shocked grunt leaves his throat.
He remains still at first, his hand still wrapped tight in my hair as my eyes close and my body melts against him, desperate for him to move. When he finally does, I swear I could almost cry with elation.
His hands go to both sides of my face, smashing me against him as he claims my mouth in a heated kiss. Turns out I was right, he kisses exactly like he touches. He demands and bites and invades and I take all of it with excitement. Excitement not only because I finally know what it’s like to kiss Marco De Vico, but because this is the first kiss I’ve ever had.
And although I should hate that he is my first, I can’t help but be enthralled. I can’t help but crave more of it, more of him.
He kisses me like he’s planning on devouring me, like he wants to swallow me whole. He bruises my lips and sucks on my tongue, tasting every inch of my mouth and claiming it as his own—and I let him. I let him do whatever he wants because finally, fucking finally, he’s kissing me.
I moan against his mouth, my hips rising and falling against the bed as a fierce rush of desire overcomes my body. I wrap my legs around his waist, a growl ripping from his throat and falling into my mouth as his cock presses against my clothed entrance, wetness seeping through. This seems to excite him too because one of his hands leaves my face to go to my thigh, his fingers biting into my flesh. I know I’m going to be bruised in the morning, but I couldn’t care less. Right now, all I care about is this kiss. All I want is for him to explore me with his mouth and his hands, to make me mindless with pleasure.
He bites down on my bottom lip, a moan falling from me as he thrusts his hips into me, my soft cry filling the air in response. Never in my life have I felt like this before, this wanton, this needy. He brings this out of me like he brings out my anger and, for once, I accept it. I accept this need with open arms and dive down into the abyss that he offers me. One of his hands moves from my face to my hair, grabbing a fistful of strands as his other moves from my thigh to my breast, pinching my nipple through the cotton tank top as I cry out in need, my hips circling against him.
When he sucks my tongue into his mouth and growls like a beast, the room starts to spin. I begin to pant like an animal in heat, desperate for him to tear my clothes from my body and give me what I really want; him. All of him.
Just as that want overflows me, he stops.
He pulls back abruptly, as if I’ve burned him. I open my eyes, the room hazier than normal as I try to search his face. His chest moves violently, his breathing ragged and unhinged just as I am.
“Why?” He growls, staring down at me, my hair still wrapped in his fist while his other hand goes to my throat, circling it as I gasp.
“Why?” He repeats, shaking me as his confusing rage falls over my trembling body, my hips still circling him involuntarily.
“Answer me, goddamnit!” He bellows, a whimper leaving my lips as I close my eyes in defeat.
I should’ve known that the passion wasn’t going to last long, that the blissful bubble I had put us in was going to burst at some point. I just didn’t want it to happen so soon.
“Because I...” I pause, his face looming over me.
“Becausewhy, Lori?” He hisses, a snake ready to strike.
“Because I wanted to, okay?” I cry, turning my head away from him as my admission leaves me.
“Because maybe for once, I wanted to feel something other than your wrath.” I whisper, the room falling silent at the sound of my words.
He’s quiet for a while, his hand leaving my throat as his breathing slows from above me. His hand loosens in my hair, but it doesn’t leave for a while. It stays there, immobile like my body as we remain in this awkward position on the bed, my heart no longer hammering inside of my chest.
He moves his hand from my hair to my chin, turning my face and forcing me to look at him. When I do, I notice that his glasses are slightly askew and for some reason, this makes him feel human. This makes him feel like less of a monster.
“You cannot bait me, Lorena,” he snaps, tilting his head at me as he speaks.
“You cannot kiss me and expect me to release you because you offered yourself to me. That will do nothing but get you hurt, princess,” he says, his words meant to be laced with venom, but instead, they just confuse me.
“I wasn’t trying to bait you...” I say, closing my eyes.
“Open your eyes when you speak to me,” he commands and I do, I lift my lids and gaze up at his blurry, beautiful face.
“What were you trying to do then?” he asks, his voice still rough.
I can’t help but wonder if he’s ever sounded like a person rather than a commanding boss.
“I was trying to... to...” I stammer like an idiot, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“Tell me now or I’ll make these ropes so tight, all your blood flow will be—”
