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I knew she couldn’t actually see me, not with the deeply tinted windows, but she was smart, had intuition and instinct to know she was being watched.
Even from a distance I could see how blue her eyes were, and I let my gaze linger down the slender swatch of her throat, down to the V-cut of her dress, and took in the feminine definition of her collarbones. Her breasts were on the smaller side, but fit her petite form to perfection. I reached down and adjusted my cock, gritting my teeth at how badly I wanted to jerk off right now.
“Are you even listening to me?”
I focused on my brother and rested my head back on the seat. “What?”
“Where are you?” Dmitry growled.
“Out.” I found myself looking back at the storefront, furrowing my brow when I didn’t see Amara standing there any longer.
“Yeah, asshole, obviously. Where? You left early and you know we have shit to do, reasons why we are even out here.”
“Yeah, I fucking know.” My voice was just as clipped as Dmitry’s. But my focus wasn’t on the whys or reasons we were here. I was solely focused on wanting another glimpse of my little Italian again.
I was now anxiously awaiting the weekend to get the wedding date set in place and to be in the same room as her. My cock twitched again as I thought about what would happen after that.
On the wedding night.
I’m going to fucking ruin her in the dirtiest way. I’m going to make her addicted to my touches, the smell of me, the verysight of me. She’ll be like Pavlov’s fucking dog, her pussy getting wet and primed at just the thought of me walking up to her.
I shouldn’t have been thinking about soiling such a beautiful, vulnerable girl. I knew she was innocent in all ways, the Cosa Nostra notorious for keeping their women under lock and key, their chastity intact to be used and sold off.
Although some factions of the Bratva held this barbaric tradition–my father being one of them–now that Dmitry and I had taken over the Desolation syndicate, we didn’t give a shit about that.
I never understood those outdated traditions, how a girl was only valuable if her hymen was still intact. I was under the mind frame of enjoying your youth and living however the fuck you wanted.
If someone wanted to gangbang their night away, more power to them. If someone wanted to pull out teeth and cut out a tongue for finding a rat in the ranks, hell, I'd be right there at the front of the line listening to them scream and beg for mercy.
Live and let live. Unless you fucked with us then we’d end you in the most torturous, twisted ways.
“I’d ask if you’re watching Marco, but I know that’s not the case since I have a few guys doing that,” Dmitry drawled and my focus was snagged once more at the front of the store, as if getting a glimpse of my breakable looking future wife got me off. “I hope like hell you’re not being a fucking creep and stalking Bianchi’s daughter.”
I smirked even though he couldn’t see me
“And if I am being a stalker? What do you care what I do? Not like you haven’t done some questionable things, big brother.” I kept my voice void of emotion.
I felt my muscles tighten as the door to the store opened and one of the guards stepped out. Marco’s wife Fernanda followed,her cell phone pressed to her ear, her mouth moving as she looked over her shoulder.
“I don’t care. Just reminding you I don’t want your crazy ass ruining this.”
I growled low and narrowed my eyes. “Fuck off. I know how important this union is. Hell, who’s idea was it, Dmitry?”
My brother snorted. “Just making sure you know what's at stake and the end goal, and that’s not getting your dick wet.”
Oh, that was for sure fucking part of it, and as if my cock agreed, the big length jerked once more behind my zipper.
I watched as Amara was the next to leave the boutique, the wind picking up and blowing the long fall of her dark hair around her face, the fabric of her modest dress molding to her body so I could make out the curves of her waist, the mounds of her breasts… and that feminine indentation between her legs.
At this rate I’d come right in my jeans without even having to touch the fucker.
“I’ll be where I need to be. Don’t worry.” I ended the call before Dmitry could hammer me with any more questions, and shoved the phone back in my pocket. Not that he cared what I did normally, but this situation was different. It meant a huge power surge in our direction, would get any stragglers in line after our father’s death.
When Amara and her guard were out of the store, the door closing behind them, they all started walking down the street. I noticed how Edoardo, her weak as fuck little guard didn’t even stop himself from checking out my fiancé’s ass. I’d have to remember to give him two black eyes for that shit.
When Amara suddenly stopped I trained my focus back on her. Her shoulders pulled back as she looked up and down the street.
A slow, predatory grin spread across my face.
