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“Feisty,” I murmur, pulling and sucking the broken skin into my mouth. Her blazing defiance only sets my body more on fire. I can't believe I let myself lose control like that. I'm Dimitri Morozov, for fuck's sake. I'm not some lovesick fool. I'm a man of power, a man of action. I don't let my emotions get the better of me.
But Sara... she's different. She's gotten under my skin in a way no other woman has. I can't deny the attraction I feel towards her, the way her scent intoxicates me, the way her body fits perfectly against mine. But I should not let her get to me. Her engagement to Lorenzo is a strategic move, a way to solidify the alliance between the two powerful mafia families. I know that if I give in to my desires, I could put everything at risk. I can't let my feelings for her compromise my family's position.
It's not just her family that puts her off-limits. Mine is just as dangerous, just as ruthless. I know that if her family found out about an affair, they would see it as a betrayal. And the consequences would be dire, for both Sara and me.
I can't help but feel a deep resentment towards her and her privileged upbringing. She's a Mafia princess, raised in a world of luxury and power. I've spent my whole life fighting tooth and nail for everything I have, for my father to approve of me. I can't help but see her as a symbol of everything I hate about this world.
"I should go," I say, taking a step back. "I'll see you in class.”
"Wait, Dimitri," she says, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that's hard to ignore. "I... I… thank you for rescuing me back there.”
Her words hang between us as I turn and walk out of her dorm room, slamming the door shut behind me. I take a deep breath of cool night air, trying to calm my racing heart.
I slide into the driver's seat of my car, my body still tense with desire. I can't get the image of Sara out of my head. The way she looked at me with those wide, fearful eyes. The way her body trembled in my arms. The way her lips felt against mine. I groan and lean back in my seat, my hand instinctively moving to my crotch. I'm still hard, my cock straining against the fabric of my pants. I can't help myself. I unzip my pants and pull out my cock, my hand wrapping around it tightly. I close my eyes and imagine Sara's lips wrapped around me, her tongue flicking against the sensitive head. I stroke myself slowly, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. I can feel the pressure building in my balls, the tension coiling in my lower back. I grip the steering wheel with my free hand, my knuckles turning white. I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm Dimitri Morozov, for fuck's sake. I don't jerk off in my car like some horny teenager. But I can't help it. Sara has an effect on me that no other woman has. I can't get her out of my head. I stroke myself faster, my hand moving in a steady rhythm. I can feel myself getting closer, the pressure building to a fever pitch. I bite my lip to keep from moaning out loud.
My body tenses with anticipation. And then, with a final, desperate stroke, I come. My body shudders with the force of my orgasm, my cock pulsing in my hand. I lean back in my seat, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I quickly clean myself up with some wipes I keep in my glove compartment, then zip up my pants. I take a deep breath and start the car.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, jolting me out of my thoughts. I pull it out and see Ivan's name flashing on the screen. I answer with a gruff "What?"
"Hey, cuz," Ivan growls. "How's Sara?"
"I think she's ok," I say, my voice tight. "I'm going to fucking kill them all."
CHAPTER THREE
SARA
Iwake up the following day feeling like I got hit by a truck. My whole body is sore, my head is pounding relentlessly, and I have a nasty, dark bruise on my cheek from where Dimitri's goon viciously backhanded me. I don't want to get out of bed; I just want to curl up under the covers and hide. But I know I can't do that. I have to put on a brave face and pretend everything is normal, even though I'm utterly exhausted and in pain. I know I can't show any weakness in front of my family, especially my father. I am Sara Amato, only daughter of Mario Amato, one of the most powerful and ruthless Mafia lords in the city. I refuse to be intimidated or broken. With a sigh, I drag myself to class and plaster a fake smile when I see Martha waiting for me in our usual seats. She immediately senses something is off.
"Hey girl, you okay? You're looking a little rough this morning," Martha says, her brows furrowing in concern as she looks me over and notices my bruise.
I force a smile and wave her off. "Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just super clumsy as usual. I crashed into my open closet door while I was looking for something to wear. You know how uncoordinated I am," I say with an exaggerated eye roll, hoping she buys my lame excuse.
Martha purses her lips, clearly not entirely convinced, but she doesn't push me on it. "Girl, you're a mess. I swear, you'd trip over your own feet just walking down the sidewalk," she says, elbowing me playfully.
I'm grateful when she changes the subject, launching into a dramatic retelling of her awful date the night before. Martha has a knack for making me laugh. Her witty impressions of the pretentious grad student she went out with have me giggling into my hand.
Just then, our portly, balding finance professor shuffles into the lecture hall. Martha immediately puffs out her chest and lowers her voice to imitate his droning tone. "Good morning, class. Today we'll be reviewing the riveting world of accrual accounting and inventory valuation methods."
I can't help the loud, snorting laugh that escapes me. Martha joins in, and we laugh until Professor Dalton glares in our direction.
"Is something funny, ladies?" he asks sternly, pushing his glasses up his nose.
My laughter immediately dies, and I feel my cheeks flush. "No, sir. Sorry, sir," I mumble, avoiding eye contact. Martha stifles her grin beside me.
After Professor Dalton returns to his lecture, I discreetly jab Martha in the side with my elbow and mouth "I hate you" at her with a suppressed smile. She just winks and gives me a thumbs-up.
"Ugh, finally. I thought Professor Dalton's lecture would never end," Martha groans as we shuffle out of the stuffy classroom. "I was about two minutes away from slipping into a coma."
I laugh. "Yeah, that was brutal. I'm glad he gave us the rest of class to work on that group project."
We pause outside the lecture hall doors as students stream past us towards the exit.
"So, since we've got the rest of the day off, want to come over to my place for a girls' day?” Martha asks, looping her arm through mine. “We can order pizza, binge watch trashy reality shows, do face masks – the works!”
I hesitate, my smile faltering. As tempting as it sounds, the thought of leaving campus makes my stomach knot with anxiety. My father probably has people watching me, and I want to avoid Dimitri and his men as much as possible.
“Oh, um… that sounds really fun but I think I'm just going to hole up in the library for a bit," I say, trying to keep my voice light. "I've got a paper to read for my elective class in a couple hours."
