Gio

“Last one,” he says once we’ve stopped and I’ve caught my breath. His eyes lock onto mine, “My place or yours?”

He races the Porsche back to his apartment. My body is electrified, every nerve ending is on fire. Even the soft leather feels imprisoning against my skin. I steal a glance at him, his hands grip the steering wheel as he watches the rearview mirror. He’s going over the speed limit, something I’ve never witnessed him do in all the rides he’s given me.

He pulls the Porsche into a gated parking lot, the attendant lifts the gate before Gio is even close enough to produce a key card. I’m not surprised considering the power he wields.

He leads me to a refurbished warehouse in Federal Hill. I’m not completely naive, I know Federal Hill is mafia territory, and has been since the early 1920s. It’s not taught in the history books but all of Providence knows this fact, being a mafia run town is a part of our history. The building is old, but it’s surrounded by new builds. It looks like the area’s been gentrified.

Gio types in a passcode causing the metal door to buzz and open for us. He pulls me through quickly, grabbing my hand and dragging me up the stairs to the second floor. When we reach the landing he pushes me against the cement wall, his hands roaming my body.

“Gio,” I moan. “The hallway.”

“I own this fucking hallway.” He retorts, his mouth hovering over mine. He pressed his body against me, pushing me harder against the wall. His mouth is on mine, his kiss is brutal, taking all I have to offer.

“Please,” Lifting my heavy gaze to meet his eyes. “Inside.”

“Inside,” he repeats, pulling the keys from his pocket and fumbling them into the lock. As soon as the door opens he pulls me in the apartment and is on me again.

I’m not inexperienced, I’ve had sex, but I’ve never been with someone like Gio. His hands are all over my body, feeling me. His kiss is electric, bringing sparks to every inch of me. He demands my attention.

Gio is nothing like the men I’ve been with before. They were all average, and Gio is nowhere near average. Everything about him is extraordinary.

Enchanting.

Invigorating.

For the first time in a long time, I feel alive.

The apartment he leads me into is actually a loft, a huge loft. This has to take up half of the building, there’s no way the other apartments are even comparable in size. The entire place is open, surrounded by red brick walls and dark flooring.

There’s a kitchen in the back with a large island and stainless steel appliances. He has a massive t.v. settled in front of a dark leather sofa. Up the black metal stairs to the loft I make out the shape of a bed surrounded by dark wood tones. The place is open and bright but filled with masculine tones, dark wood, and brick.

It was absolutely beautiful.

Like the man who owned it.

His hands on my body pull me from my admiration of the place and refocus my attention on the man in front of me.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says, his lips kiss my mouth and then move down to the column of my throat.

I feel the heat rise to my cheeks. My whole body blushes in response to his words.

“Has anyone ever told you that, sweetheart?” his hands don’t stop moving over me. My back, hips, butt. They don’t stop exploring.

“No,” I whisper.

“That’s a fucking shame.” his voice is a rough, throaty sound. “Because a beautiful woman like you deserve to be fucking worshipped.”

“Oh, god.” I moan, just from his words and the electric feeling of his hands on my skin.

“Can I show you?” he asks, pressing his body tightly against mine. His lips against my ear. “Can I show you how you deserve to be touched, to be worshipped?” He looks at me, expecting an answer.

“I-” I can’t find the words. I’m so turned on, my body is heavy with need. But I’m also so fucking scared. Scared of what this man will do to me. His eyes are focused on me, waiting. “You’re not like me Gio,” I tell him. “And if I let myself catch feelings for you I’ll never recover. You’ll fucking ruin me.”

A small smile rises to his lips. “It’s too late for that,” he says. “I’m not like you?” his hands grip my waist harder. “Who fucking cares?” he snarls. “I’ll kill anyone who even looks at you the wrong way.”

His possessiveness of me makes me hotter, He presses quick kisses to my neck while his fingers find the hem of my shirt. “Say you want me,” he tells me. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

A moan escapes my lips, and for a second I don’t even recognize the sound.