Married to the Mob (Bianchi Crime Family 1) - Page 8
“Just give him a chance. He’s handsome, wealthy, and powerful. Isn’t that enough for now? You two haven’t even met. What if you both fall in love?”
Scoffing, I stand up and walk over to my bed where she’s sitting and plop down beside her, giving her a downward stare. “I highly doubt that. The man will probably make me sick with his affairs.”
There’s a knock at my bedroom door. “Girls, it’s time to go,” my papa says.
“We need a few more minutes, Papa,” Gloria shouts.
“So unladylike,” I whisper with a smirk. She nudges me and sticks out her tongue, proving my point again.
We both hold back a laugh as my father adds, “Domani won’t like to be kept waiting.” I roll my eyes because I don’t give a shit if he doesn’t like something. My father’s so anxious to hand over the reins of the Grasso family to Domani that he’s trying to appease the handsome thug.
“Pity. He’ll have to get used to it,” I hiss under my breath.
Gloria signs the cross over her chest, kissing the cross she wears. “Heaven help him. He’s got his hands full with you.”
“Damn right.” A deep growl comes from my bedroom door that flies open. I gasp and stare. Domani Bianchi is standing there in my doorway in an all-black suit with a deep blood-red tie, as if he knew I’d be wearing the same red tonight.
“Please leave us,” Domani Bianchi orders my sister. His tone is firm, yet not cruel. She doesn’t miss a beat and scurries out of the room. “Careful, you’re with child, Signora Delaney.” She slows down and walks out, closing the door behind her with a smirk on her face, sticking her tongue out at me one more time for good measure.
“Aria.” I jerk my eyes away from my bedroom door to his face. The sound of my name off his lips is smooth and rushes over my skin, making my every nerve tingle.
“Yes, that’s my name,” I inform him with an air of indifference even though my heart’s thumping against my breastbone.
He arches his right brow, rakes his gaze over me from head to toe, and then remarks with an upturned lip, “It looks like you have no intention of coming tonight.” Immediately, I understand he’s not talking about his house, but rather, my body. My already heated flesh reddens with lust, and I need more of his sultry voice.
“Oh, I plan to come,” I hiss, leaving the sexual innuendo in the air like blood in the water for a dangerous predator. He crosses the distance, leaning over me as I sit on the edge of my bed, and shakes his head. “Just not with you.”
“Aria, you won’t be coming at all if you keep this up,” Domani warns me, inching alarmingly close that I can feel the heat of his body across my skin.
Needing to defuse my body’s natural reaction to his magnetism, I clap my hands together excitedly and give him my thousand-watt smile. “Ooh. Does that mean we’re not getting married?”
He slides his strong hand down my cheek, feathering his fingers over my throat, and continues to move them down my body. “Oh, we’re getting married.” Domani’s touch is gentle as he loosens the tie on my robe, revealing my bra and panties to his gaze. His eyes return to me, and there’s nothing but lust and determination in them. Can he tell that between my clenched thighs the material is drenched?
Gripping my thighs, he nudges them open and then cups my pussy. His other hand thrusts into my hair, tugging my head back as he leans over me, staring into my eyes. “It’s not wise to tease a man on edge, cara mia.” His mouth brushes against mine. “Are you going to be a good girl and get dressed?”
“What’s in it for me?” I try to hold on to the fight, but his fingers flex, massaging me through my panties.
“Depending on how good of a girl you are, I’ll either be making you come with my fingers or my tongue… Or, you can be bad and keep me waiting, but the consequences will be unbearable. You’ll be tied up so you can’t even touch yourself to get off, Tesoro.”
“Ruthless,” I moan, flexing my hips forward as I glare at him.
A sinister smile stretches across his handsome face, causing an uptick in my heart rate. “That’s right, Aria. Now, go put on that red dress.” He points to the black garment bag hanging on the closet door.
“How did you know?”
“Our mothers mentioned it to each other.” He presses his lips to my forehead before releasing his grip on my mound. “Remember what I said, Aria. I’m a man of my word.” He walks out of the bedroom without stealing another look my way. My panties need to be changed. Asshole. I almost came from that brief encounter. I debate my choices. He doesn’t know that I slip my hand under my nightgown to thoughts of him or tease myself in the shower.
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