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And damn it, tonight is about feeling happy and having fun for once.
Fuck it.
“Voglio stasera con te. Solo un colpo...solo una notte,”I whisper against Roberto’s ear.
I want tonight with you. Just one shot...just one night.
He inhales sharply and scoops me up, ignoring a few club-goers who laugh and whistle or point at us as he carries me out of the dance club and to his shiny black Volvo. When he sets me in the passenger seat, I boldly tug him down for a hot kiss, slipping my tongue into his mouth to taste him better.
Roberto groans, his lips curling into a wicked smile. "I've decided your cruelanddangerously fucking sexy, Giulia Russo."
I hum and bite his lower lip teasingly, which makes him swear and grip my hips hard. He finally breaks the kiss to get in, shooting me a look darkened with hunger before pulling into the Chicago streets. Damn, he looks good like this—dressed up, driving, flushed skin, hair mussed…
I'm letting go for one night, aren't I? Why stop now?
While we're stopped at a red light, I lean over. Roberto automatically tries to kiss me, but I turn his face away to kiss down his jaw and neck, fingers skimming over the buttons of his shirt. I undo one and kiss down his chest slightly while my other hand finds his cock, hard and stiff in his pants, and presses hard against it.
"Fuck,Giulia," he hisses, fingers threading through my hair. He's breathing a little heavier. "Wait. I'm getting you to a room, and I'm going to fucking taste you. Don’t test my patience right now because that goddamn dress has already been doing it all night."
I giggle against his throat, reaching up to slip one of my sleeves down and then the other. "Oh, you like it, hmm? Good to know. Maybe I'll leave it in your car…."
He grasps my face and kisses me desperately, both of our breaths coming rapidly when the light turns green, and we pull apart. Roberto takes one hand off the steering wheel to grip mine tightly when I try to feel his length again, and I laugh.
"God, I love your laugh," he breathes, shooting me another smoldering look.
He pulls into the parking lot of the nearest hotel. It's a good distance from where I'm staying, but I could not care less now. He opens the passenger door, and I'm in his arms immediately as he cradles me again, kissing me hard enough that I see stars.
The check-in process is a blur. He says barely ten words to the person at the counter, who I ignore completely as I run fingers under the back of Roberto's shirt, tracing muscles and his spine. His voice catches once during his conversation with the concierge, and he narrows his eyes at me when I smile innocently.
Once we get to the room, though, all teasing is over. Thank God—we've been doing enough teasing as it is, and I've been thinking about this aggravating, sexy, fuckinggorgeousmobster heir nonstop for days.
I gasp when he presses me against the bed in a brutal kiss, and we groan together as I arch to grind against him. My fingers fumble with the buttons on his dark shirt as his large, warm hands try to press me into the bed and closer to him simultaneously. I'm only frustrated when he breaks the kiss with a groan.
"Shit, wait. Are you a lightweight, Giulia? Is this because of the tequila shot? Because—"
"No," I assure him in as few words as possible.
Then I capture his mouth and another sound of his pleasure as I quickly shuck my dress and press against him. His shirt is a fucking pain, but he stops my hands as I go for it again, drawing an irritated huff from me that makes his lips curl up in amusement—though his eyes are still searing when I meet them.
"You know Ireallyfucking want this, Giulia—I want you. But you're notoriously challenging to read, and I need to make sure you really want this and that you won't—"
"Roberto."
When I say his name for the first time, he cuts off, eyes softening. He brushes his fingers against my cheek even while the other grips my hip hard, betraying the amount of restraint he's trying to show. I have to admit that I'm impressed with a guy with a reputation for impulsivity.
Heaven knows I'm showing no restraint at all right now because I Don’t fucking want to just for one night.
"Yeah,Bellissima?"
"I just want you tonight. Not the perfectionism or the stress or anything else. Just you. So stop talking and fuck me already. Got it?"
He groans. "Yes."
His lips are rough against mine in the next moment, and I gasp a little when he wastes no time literally ripping my panties off. My bra goes next, and he swears in Italian and dips down to nip one of my pebbled nipples, earning a gasp from me. He kisses and sucks on my breasts for several long moments, torturing me with pleasure and chuckling when I whimper and tug with frustration on his shirt, which is still half-on.
Roberto shucks it quickly, and while working on his pants and pulling a condom out of his wallet, my eyes travel over his sculpted torso.Chiseled by Michelangelo, indeed.
But he's scarred, too. A lot more than I like. I can't help noticing the one on his left shoulder—clearly a bullet wound. I've seen enough gunshot injuries to know what is and isn't a close miss in that region, and that one definitely had to be life-threatening. That thought disturbs me, and without thinking twice, I grab his arm and pull him back to the bed as he's still pulling on a condom.
