Matched to the Mafia (Seeking Curves)

God, he was in the mafia. He was high ranking and powerful, and I should have run and run fast and far. But I couldn't deny that the dangerous side of him called to me in the most primal way imaginable. Even now, I was wet, my nipples so hard I knew how obscenely they were pressed against my bra and dress, no doubt totally visible.

I quickly looked away and swallowed, my throat raw and tight and so very dry. I wondered how many people he’d killed, how many he’d tortured. I thought of all the movies I’d seen about the mafia, no doubt exaggerated because of Hollywood… but how true were any of those things?

Run. Don’t let him dig his fingers into you until there’s no chance of escaping.

I closed my eyes and breathed out, knowing the very scary truth—he already had his claws in me. I didn’t know how it happened, how it could have happened so fast, but despite knowing I was currently standing next to a man in the mafia, all I could feel was an answering warm wetness between my legs.

A small shudder went through my body, and anyone might have assumed it was revulsion or fear. They’d be so far from the truth it would make their head spin. Never would I wonder how a woman could want a bad boy, because I had the ultimate one right next to me.

I looked up at him again, my breathing picking up, my body becoming loose and ready for Enzo. He wouldn't let anyone hurt me, wouldn't let anyone get close. I knew that without a doubt. I’d seen the surge of possessiveness in his eyes as he looked at me, as he checked me out.

Or maybe this was just about sex. Maybe all he wanted to do was dominate me in the only way he knew, in the way he did with everything in his life?

I wouldn’t even fight him on that.

Arousal. I was turned on. For him.

He looked over at me then, and my breath caught as I watched his gaze lower to my mouth, as his eyes became hooded… as he growled.

And his gaze went lower, our steps never faltering as he stared at my chest, no doubt seeing my hard nipples digging against the material of my dress. I swore I felt them get harder under his heated look.

I’m playing with fire.

Yet I was too nervous, too afraid of this desire I felt to say anything, to tell Enzo how he could take me right up to my apartment, in my room, and fuck the ever-living hell out of me. I wanted to not walk straight tomorrow because of how hard he claimed me.

He drew to a stop and faced me, his hand still on mine, but slowly he shifted his fingers so he could press his thumb to my wrist.

Could he feel how hard my pulse beat right under the skin? “What are you thinking about right now?” His voice was pitched low, even though it was only us outside the complex right now. But I knew he wouldn't have cared who heard or saw whatever he had planned.

“Nothing,” I lied on a shaky breath, but my face no doubt betrayed me as I felt it get hot.

His lips tilted slightly. He knew I was lying.

He took a step toward me, all up in my personal space, but I refused to back away. I tipped my head back and stared into his eyes.

“Is it the danger I present, Bianca?” he said low, slowly, and leaned down so his mouth was right by my ear. He stroked my radial pulse, and my eyes fluttered closed on their own. “Is it the knowledge that I want you as much as I do, that I'd kill anyone who thought to even look at you with desire in their eyes?”

I licked my lips, his warm breath and those seductive words teasing the shell of my ear. “W-What?” That lone word stuttered out of me, and I shook again. He pressed even closer, the massive erection he sported digging into my belly. I held in my gasp and then my moan.

“Is it those things that have your pussy so wet right now? I bet your panties are soaked.”

Oh. God. I didn’t hold in my moan then, and he growled in response.

I said nothing, because I couldn’t. My voice and all common sense left me at the feel of his calm breathing against my ear, at the feel of his thumb stroking almost innocently over my wrist. He seemed to be collected and in control right now, and the only outward sign he wanted me was that huge stiffness he kept pressing right against me.

A fresh wave of heat moved through me, and I clenched my thighs together as more wetness spilled from between my legs. He groaned, and I had a feeling Enzo knew how wet I was, knew what he did to me. It wasn’t like I was trying hard to hide the effect he had on my body.