Promised to the Killer: A Dark Mafia Romance

His fingers slip into my hair and gently weave themselves tight. He grips hard and pulls my head back, and I groan a surprised breath as he kisses my neck.

“When you agreed to follow me back up here, is this what you imagined?”

“I figured we’d play Go Fish. But it looks like I didn’t fish my wish.”

A soft chuckle. “No, princess. You’re not here to play cards.”

“We both know why I followed you. I’m an insane person. I’ve lost my mind completely.”

“No, you haven’t. Not yet at least.” He stares into my eyes. “But I’ll work on that.” He pulls harder and I gasp, releasing a gentle moan. He tightens his grip before releasing me and steps back, his eyes ablaze with need. I can feel my pulse between my legs and I know I’m dripping wet. My nipples are hard, and my lips are parted, my tongue rolling across my lower lip, wetting it. He stares and releases a soft growl. I’ve never felt so out of control in my life, and I’ve never felt so good, either.

“I’m not the kind of man who brings strange women to his hotel room,” he says, eyes blazing.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe it. I have too many enemies to allow myself that luxury.”

“Are you dangerous then, Maxim?” I’m teasing him. I know he’s the most dangerous creature in this city, and yet that kiss made me feel bold enough to push back against him.

His lips quirk. A shiver runs down my spine. He’s a wolf and I’m a lamb, and I keep on bleating at him. Just for fun.

“Yes, Siena. I am a dangerous man. But you don’t have to worry about that tonight. Only, I need to make sure you’re safe.”

“Safe?” My eyebrows raise. “Are you afraid of a little thing like me?”

“Stand up.” A command. Not a question.

I rise to my feet. I’m too used to taking orders from men like him to resist it, and I bristle at my automatic response. “Take off your dress.”

Now that I don’t react to immediately.

My heart thuds wildly in my chest. I stare at him, my mouth hanging open. He begins to unbutton his shirt, still staring.

“Go ahead,” he says. “Take it off. I need to make sure you don’t have any weapons hidden on your person.”

“Is that your excuse? Then why are you undressing too?”

“I thought you’d be more comfortable.” He removes his shirt and lets it fall away.

I stare at the tattoos on his skin. A wolf’s face on his chest. More stars, more sunbursts. Crosses, words in Russian, tribal patterns down his arms. He’s covered in ink and image, and I want to run my fingers and trace their shapes. I want to know what each one meant when he got it jabbed into his body, and what it means to him now. Scars wind their way through the riot of ink, cutting some in half, little puckers of twisted flash in slashes and bumps. Bullet and knife wounds.

His chest is muscular, and his abs are beautifully defined. The sharp V that leads down into his perfectly fitted suit pants makes my mouth water with a strange, sharp longing. I look up and he’s smiling slightly, head tilted to one side.

“Your turn,” he says.

“I’ve never done this before,” I say, unable to stop myself. It’s the truth. I’ve never stripped while a man watched me. I’ve never gone home with a stranger.

And I’ve never given myself to a man so completely.

“It’s okay. It’s easy. All you do is take off your clothes. You’ve done that a million times before.” He steps closer and reaches out. “Here. Let me.”

I hesitate, not sure what he’s doing until he reaches to my back and finds the zipper. I half turn as he clears my hair away, his fingertips brushing down my neck. He tugs the zipper down and lowers it, and my dress falls forward. I hold it against my chest with my hand, and he’s so close to me, his mouth open and his eyes taking in all that new skin. He kisses my shoulder, my throat, and my ear, and moves my hand.

The dress falls forward.

I’m not wearing a bra. When I left earlier, I thought it would be sexy and exciting, and anyway, the dress works better without one. But now that my dress is coming off, some part of me dimly wishes I had worn another layer.

At least I have on panties.

He stares at my breasts and at the pink, firm mounds of my nipples poking out between my fingers. My cheeks turn bright red and he can tell I’m excited based on how stiff my nipples are. God, it’s embarrassing, but he kisses me, biting my lower lip as he palms one breast and teases it before kissing my collarbone. I let out a surprised moan as he pulls me to my feet and yanks the dress down. It pools onto the floor, leaving me in only my panties. Fully exposed to this creature. He holds me against him, his skin warm, hot like a fresh shower turned to scalding. He licks my nipples, sucks them, and pulls my hair again.