Chapter Five
The day had burned away faster than either of them anticipated. It was near dusk when they returned, exhausted. Fabiana could always out shop, out drink, and out eat her, but on this day she managed to do all three. They laughed as they strolled side by side through large double doors drawn open as if in anticipation of their arrival. With shopping bags swinging in their hands, the two of them finished each other sentences.
The villa in the evening had a spacious airy feel to it. Every window and door on the lower level was open. It allowed a sweetly fragrant tropical breeze to flow through the long halls. Soft yellow lamp fixtures on the walls and posted in the corners of the rooms chased away the shadows. Even the chandelier, twinkling from the high vaulted ceiling, cast beams of light over the hanging portraits and marble statues. Together they bounded up the winding stairs. Her friend chatted her up over something funny they’d seen in a storekeeper’s window, and she pretended to agree. Her mind was elsewhere.
All day her thoughts were filled with him. The man had left one hell of an impression. From his larger than life imposing stature to his handsome tan gold face and dreamy eyes, it had become hard to shake thoughts of him. Even the strong spice of his cologne lingered in the back of her mind and caused her blood to rush to her face with shame. He’d used his tongue masterfully, gave her the first climax she’d had in months, and she was sure he had done it all on purpose.
At first she intended to decline Fabiana’s invite for a day in town without the men but found that Giovanni had left on business when she returned to the parlor in search of him. Mira half expected to hear he’d left Bellagio for his life in southern Italy. And that had been disappointing.
“Are you even listening to me?” Fabiana walked in her room ahead of her.
“Yes. I think.” Mira answered.
Fabiana slipped her a look under dark lashes. Mira pretended not to notice. She placed her bags on the chaise, and nervously rubbed her hands together.
“You’ve been weird all day.” Fabiana began, circling her. Mira rolled her eyes upward. Her friend went to the window in the room and leaned against the sill. “You’ve been a bit spacy. Is it work? Do you want to call Angelique and check in?”
“No. Don’t be silly. I’m trying to unwind, and you keep taking out the measuring tape to see how much. I’m relaxed. We had a good time, didn’t we?” She dropped on the bed and crossed her legs. Fabiana observed her with a scrutiny she had grown to loathe. If she weren’t careful she’d confess it all before she had time to decide on how she truly felt over her and Giovanni’s passionate moment.
“Wonder where the men are?” Mira said through a forced smile. “We haven’t seen Lorenzo. Shouldn’t you let him know we’re back?” Fabiana rose. She glanced out the window and paused. Her brows furrowed together with concern.
“What is it?”
“Come here! Quick!” Fabiana stepped closer to the window. Mira pushed up from the bed and hurried to her friend’s side. Together they watched Lorenzo speed up the sloping driveway on a motorbike. He climbed off with a flushed hard look to his face. The front of his shirt, and his trouser legs were caked in dirt, as were his shoes. “What in the hell happened to him?” Mira asked. “Maybe his car broke down or something?”
Lorenzo spoke with a few men who regarded him curiously as well, then marched toward the villa.
“I’ll go downstairs and find out what’s going on.”
“Wait a second, he—.” She turned and her friend was gone. The door slammed shut behind her. Mira searched the cars parked and didn’t see the shiny yellow Ferrari she and Giovanni had taken earlier. She chewed on the inside of her jaw wondering again if he had gone for the evening. After a few minutes curiosity forced her to act. She headed for the door and stepped out into the hall. The armed man who always stood guard had gone. She’d noticed that detail first when they returned. Just knock on the door and see if he’s there. Maybe he’s in there? He clearly stated what a return visit to his room would bring. After the fourth knock it was clear he was gone. Feeling a bit silly she turned away.
“Ciao, Bella.”
From nowhere, he appeared. Their eyes met, and she stood frozen to the spot. “Yes. As a matter of fact I was.” A warm mixture of excitement and trepidation filled her. “You left this morning without saying goodbye.” To her, her voice sounded soft and needy. However, the sly smile on his face and the desire in his stare indicated he had a thing for soft and needy. She cleared her throat and straightened her back. Giovanni did his usual sweep of her appearance; his gaze lingered on her breasts before returning to her face.
When he stopped before her, she felt breathless again.
“I returned. For you.”
“I see.” She pretended to be unimpressed. “I…” Mira cleared her throat and spoke in a steady voice. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you that Fabiana wanted to do some sightseeing with me today. Didn’t want you to think I was running away again.”
“You? Run? After allowing me to taste you? The thought never crossed my mind,” he replied with a jesting quip.
“Oh? Good.”
His gaze left her face and shifted to his closed door. “You want to come in?” he reached for the knob with one hand and placed his other to her hip to steer her toward temptation. Contact of his palm against her body nearly seduced her into complying.
“No. No.” She laughed nervously reaching to touch his chest. She kept her hand there and felt the strong rhythm of his heart. Was he excited to be near her also? Something had accelerated his pulse. “I only wanted to see if you were free. That’s all Giovanni.”
“You miss me?” He gave her hip a gentle squeeze. Giovanni pulled her up under him. She was forced to put both hands to his chest to keep from colliding with it. His hand then eased lower, and she was now secure in his hold. For some reason, he found her discomfort pleasing. The man knew the control he wielded over women, and she was sure he frequently got whom or whatever he wanted. This man wasn’t one she should tease. “I owe you lunch, don’t I? It’s the most important meal of the day. Though we never finished breakfast,” Giovanni chuckled. Humor softened his gaze, and she dismissed her previous assessment. He was just being friendly. She noticed in this country men were a bit more forward. Maybe she had let too many boundaries down for him to understand what affect he was having on her?
“Okay?” she said.
“Lorenzo has had food prepared, I’m sure. We can join him and your friend. Would that make you comfortable?”
“Who says I’m not?”
His left brow arched in response.
“I’m perfectly comfortable,” she answered. “Evident by the way you have your hand on my ass.”
This time laughter exploded from him. He lifted his palm and put his hands up in surrender. Mira smirked. She stayed close, however, to emphasize her point. Lowering her hands, she felt the light brush of her nipples over his chest and knew he did too. “Besides we can eat anywhere.”
“I think it best we join them.”
She didn’t hide her disappointment. Her lip dropped in a pout. He winked at her and ran the backs of his fingers over her cheek. Funny, earlier she told Fabiana she had no intentions of being alone with the man again. Oh yes, as usual her mind and desires were at odds. She lifted her gaze from his lips to stare into his beautiful eyes again. This time she wouldn’t retreat from him like a schoolgirl. Giovanni extended his hand to her. She accepted it, allowing him to lead the way. His palm was warm and large. It covered her entire hand. She felt a sense of protectiveness in the way he assumed the lead. Together they walked down the stairwell, wide enough for them to descend side by side. Below she found the hall and the dining room to be empty, but a very romantic setting with blue roses and candles were placed as the centerpiece. Mira stared at the fresh blooms, curious of their history with his family. When he drew out her chair she only half hesitated. Where were Fabiana and Lorenzo? Before she could ask, her friend sashayed in from the other end of the dining room. She blinked at Giovanni, then at her, and the romantic place setting for four.
“Everything okay?” Mira asked.
“Oh yes. Lorenzo’s changing. The man was covered in dirt and mud. He said his car broke down, and he had to borrow a motorbike to make it back up the hill.”
“Car trouble?” Giovanni asked.
Fabiana nodded. “He’ll join us soon.”
Giovanni’s attention returned to Mira. Her eyes were constantly drawn to his. Fabiana’s arrival was quite a relief. The wine poured and food was brought to the table on silver platters and in large shiny red and yellow ceramic serving bowls. Mira heaped pasta and a meaty sauce onto her plate, keeping her focus singular. Eat, drink, that is all. She managed it for a few moments until he spoke.
“So where did you ladies go today?”
“Everywhere. Our driver was pretty good.” Fabiana answered.
She felt his stare and looked up. It was clear he could care less what Fabiana said and was more interested in hearing the details from her. “We found some boutiques and did some sightseeing.”
“I wish I had the pleasure, to show you more of Bellagio.” He forked a large portion of the dinner in his mouth, chewing.
I wish you had the pleasure too. Mira sipped her wine.
“Is it true? You found her purse?” Fabiana asked.
Giovanni stopped mid chew. He looked to Fabiana and his expression stilled. Mira frowned at his reaction. It wasn’t a secret. Why did he glare at her friend as if it were none of her business? The silence at the table felt awkward so she interceded. “He had it brought to me. It was very nice of you Giovanni. To go through the trouble.”
He continued to eat. Fabiana shot her a quizzical look.
“I hear your family name quite a bit in Napoli. You’re very respected.” Fabiana began again. “One of the most powerful families in the Campania?”
“What’s the Campania?” Mira asked, with a nervous chuckle. Why her friend’s questions of him made her nervous she wasn’t sure. It was more of an underlying feeling she got from Giovanni’s silence.
“It’s the region of southern Italy where Napoli is. Our new home.”
“Oh.” Mira feared for a moment that Fabiana would mention the mob. God, she prayed not. The tension at the table was already so thick she found it hard to catch a good breath.
“Are you the Godfather?” Fabiana chuckled.
Giovanni continued to chew, but the action seemed more mechanical than organic. His hooded gaze lifted from his plate and locked on Fabiana. Mira braced for a response.
“You think this term Godfather applies to me?” Giovanni picked up his wine and sipped. “Why do you think this?”
“I’m asking a question. Does the term ‘Godfather’ apply to you?”
“I’ve seen the movie.” Giovanni sneered. He sat back in his chair and cocked his head giving Fabiana his undivided attention. “Bella?” It was clear when he said the word, bella, he addressed her and not Fabiana. Though his gaze never wavered from her friend. “We’ve spent some time together today. I’m curious as to what you think?” he switched his focus to Mira. “Am I what you Americans call the Godfather?”
Why is he asking me?
Giovanni waited. Fabiana gave her an apologetic shrug. Both of them stared directly at her.
Mira cleared her throat.
“I think the movie was all fiction, a story steeped in some cultural references that Americans associate with Italians. Seriously, what does Godfather mean anyway?”
“The term has meaning. For both Sicilians and Italians. Many of our families have deep roots in the Catholic Church. The Sacrament of Baptism is where it comes from. It’s where the church baptizes for the remission of sin and the family appoints a trustworthy person to oversee the welfare of the most innocent. A child. Sponsores, offerentes, susceptores, fidejussores, this is what we consider a godparent. Am I one? I am, for many children, a blessing from many families to have been requested to sponsor the life of their child before the holy sacrament. It’s my honor. Why you Americans want to sully the term and associate it with organized crime is beyond me. I guess you, Signora,” his gaze swiveled to Fabiana. “Watch too much TV.”
“She didn’t mean to offend you Giovanni, she only—.”
“Let her finish her questions, Bella. I’m sure she’s quite capable to explain what the meaning is behind them.” He reclined in his chair and regarded Fabiana with open hostility. He did so in a way that Mira didn’t appreciate. It was killing the sexy flirtatious banter between them that had her considering him in a new light. In that moment the man seemed quite dangerous.
“We’re done with this topic. Let’s move on.” Mira said to them both. Fabiana gave Giovanni a gracious smile and bowed her head slightly in respect. He however continued to glare.
“Yes, let’s move on.” Mira said to him directly.
“Agreed.” Fabiana spoke, sipping her wine, swallowing, and speaking again. “Besides, I think we are all past introductions. I was just making conversation.”
“We are past it, aren’t we Giovanni?” Mira asked. He looked her way. She smiled sweetly at him and hoped whatever it was that had offended him could be forgotten. It was rude to insult the man. If she had put Lorenzo on the hot seat the way Fabiana did she would be furious. What the Battaglia’s did or didn’t do was none of their business.
“I thought I introduced myself properly earlier.” He moistened his lips and smiled her way. Mira’s eyes stretched. She noticed how Fabiana watched the exchange and tried to cover her embarrassment. She couldn’t be more mortified. If he even insinuated what they’d done in his room she would sink through the floor. “Like I said the movie was just a movie. I don’t have a label for you. Don’t need one.”
“Girl, what has you squirming over there?” Fabiana gave her a critical squint.
“Come va!” Lorenzo stormed into the room freshly changed. He wore a dark blue shirt and khaki-brown slacks. He yanked a chair back and sat down in a huff. Lorenzo had a flushed hurried manner about him. Wait. Was he sunburned? How long was that hike back to the villa? His face and neck was red as a beet.
“What happened to you?” Giovanni asked. “Your woman says your car broke down.”
“His woman!” Fabiana exclaimed. “Excuse me?”
Mira drank her wine and hoped her friend would let the reference pass. Fabiana rolled her eyes and laughed it off.
“Yes. I had car trouble. I had to walk then I found a vespa unattended on the side of the road.” Lorenzo dismissed the concern. He lifted a glass. “I want to propose a toast. To our lovely guests, and the next two days. May they be as promising as the first.”
Mira lifted her glass. She glanced over to Giovanni who clinked his with hers. She kept her eyes on him during her long sip. The night had already started off with a bang. When Giovanni looked her way she caught that gleam of desire in his eyes again. Despite the tension earlier she relaxed and nodded his way.
****
Despite the numbness weighing down her lids, Mira woke exhausted and sensually disturbed after the day she had. There would be no hope of sleep. Blame it on the wine, her handsome suitor, or the whirlwind adventure her life had turned into since she left New York. Dinner had been nice. The conversation flowed. She even practiced a few words of Italian with everyone’s encouragement. Giovanni was charming. The more time she spent with the man, the more she felt drawn to him. And just when she thought the night had promise for her to get to know more of him, he was summoned away. A tall brooding giant in a suit entered the room, said a few words in his ear and they were gone. Gone!
Frustrated, she rolled over under the coverlet and squeezed her eyes shut. Her mind refused to turn off. She remembered everything. From his touch, to his kiss. She recalled every single sensation that made her toes curl. Reaching for her pillow she stuffed it between her legs and sucked in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Nothing offered relief.
A door slammed.
Every bone in her body stiffened. Did she hear a door slam? She glanced back over her shoulder. She was positive she heard it. What time was it? Mira sat up, her hands flat to either side of her. She stared through the darkness to her locked bedroom door. “No girl. Don’t do it. Sleep. I’m going to sleep!” she grunted falling back on her pillow, and turning over. “I’m going to sleep.”
Giovanni shrugged off his sports coat. He tossed it to the chair. Some vacation this turned out to be. No matter his travels, there was business to be had in nearly every hamlet. Tonight had been strange. Don Calderone, who had been enraged that his son Giuseppe missed a very important meeting with Giovanni’s men, had summoned him. After the opening hostilities subsided, Giovanni felt sympathy for the old man. Giuseppe was a royal fuck up and his only heir. So he tolerated another reschedule of meetings in exchange for additional land purchases in the triangle. The old man had the nerve to try to remind him of the way business was done in the past with his father. As if he cared.
Once he unbuttoned his shirt and took off his shoes, he felt the tension drain from his neck and shoulders. The time had come to bring in his latest shipment. The Russians knew better than to interfere. He’d secured a deal that would remind all other families that he was indeed his father’s son, and give him enough capital to wash his hands of blood. Move Battaglia away from the stigma of Baldementi. That was his father’s dream. He sat on the edge of the bed and put his face in his palms.
At times the loneliness became as heavy a burden as managing the lives of men sworn in blood to follow him. He tired of the long nights spent alone and grew bored and disinterested with the women that shared his bed. There was no peace for him.
A soft rapping at the door drew his face up from his palms.
Who would dare defy his orders and disturb him now? Rising with his shirt open and in bare feet he strode to the door and flung it open. Mira emerged from the dark hall into view, successfully disarming him with a shy smile. She wore no makeup. It shocked him how much prettier she was without it. Blown straight, her dark brown hair with honey colored highlights faintly seen within, flowed from a center part to her shoulders and framed her oval shaped face. Her eyes were a soft hazel under a ring of dark lashes, and her skin flawless, creamy like melted caramel. Giovanni’s gaze lowered. A silk belt tied neatly defined her tiny waist and gave her breasts a full lift to the deep V at the front of her robe. She rose on her small feet with her hands behind her back to look up into his eyes when she spoke. “Hi Giovanni.”
“Hi.”
“Can I come in?”
Giovanni didn’t speak. He was too busy staring at the sweet indention of her exposed cleavage.
“I know it’s late, but I wanted, oh this is awkward, can I come in to talk?”
As if on autopilot he stepped aside, holding the door for her. The suggestion of nubile curves underneath the short robe she wore was further enhanced by the sweet sway of her hips. No woman on the planet had a better ass than her. He smiled, surprised. Closing the door, he locked it. She would not leave.
She strolled about and stopped in the middle of his room, surveying it as if she hadn’t seen it before. Of course, he hadn’t forgotten her, the day they shared, the night he wished to share between her thighs. He forced himself to accept the fact that a little flirting was all he’d achieve with this one. Especially with all the bullshit he was swimming in.
“You left again. We seem to have a habit of not being able to finish a meal together. Why is that?”
So she noticed? Asked the little voice inside of his head. “It couldn’t be helped, Bella. I wanted to stay.”
“Did you?”
“I did.”
She crossed her arms over the swell of her breasts. He resisted the urge to sweep her over his shoulder and take her to the bed. She smelled heavenly. Even from a distance her presence made his room soft, enticing. He took another step toward her, and she didn’t back away from him.
“So?”
“Yes?” he answered.
“This can go nowhere.” She opened her arms in gesture. “This thing between us. Nowhere. I have my business. I mean my business is really demanding of me now. I’m not really into dating. I don’t want to date. I, just... I’m interested in enjoying myself that’s all. And a friend. Maybe. Do you understand?”
Did she think he’d talk her out of this late night visit or convince her to stay? She seemed to want something, but couldn’t decide on what. Giovanni dismissed her little speech. They both knew how the night would end. And right now he wanted to ease past the formalities and get to the sweet part, where she lay beneath him in his bed. The lamplight from the small dresser near the bed chased most of the shadows to the corners of his room. The drapes were drawn preventing the assistance of the moon. Still he could see enough of her. She had fine hips and shapely thighs.
“This.” He pointed to her, and then himself. “Has already gone further than you imagined. It is why you’ve come to me. You do remember what I told you the last time we met in my room?” He stopped before her and lifted her chin with his finger. “You remember, don’t you Bella? That’s why you waited up for me, came to me as soon as you heard my return. Isn’t it?”
“We’re different,” she answered meekly. “I’m not talking about race. Fabiana and I are different and we’re best friends. We’re different in other ways.”
“And that matters to who?”
“I’m not usually this brave, okay?” She tossed her hands up in defeat. “I don’t screw around.”
“It’s your first time. I’ll be gentle.”
“Oh brother, you don’t beat around the bush do you?”
The saying had no meaning to him so he ignored the question. She made the first move. He couldn’t be held responsible for what was to come. Maybe his sweet dearly departed mother was getting a kick out of this moment. How many women had she and Zia tried to pair him with. And it was she, Mira Ellison, a black American woman far removed from anyone they’d imagined for him. “What’s under the robe?” he asked and shrugged off his shirt.
She stood motionless. He intended to ask again but slowly her arms unfolded and lowered. She reached around to the belted sash at her hip and untied the knot. The silk folds peeled away to uncover a very delicate lace negligee that barely reached past the bend of her hips. Black, lace, with a bra like bodice, it lay against her curves like a second skin. Her heart shaped hips and the dark V of her sex made him run his hand back through his hair for restraint. Even the dark extended tips of her nipples appeared.
“Sei incredibile,” he stammered. “You’re incredible,” he translated.
Mira relaxed her shoulders and the silk robe drifted to a pool of fabric at her feet. Tonight had purpose; it was no accident or chance encounter. “Destino. Mine. You’re my fate, Bella.”
“I’m not sure about that.” She crossed her arms across herself out of reflex. He intended to corrupt her in every way. The woman had come to tease him, seduce him, and she wanted him to think it was his idea. Giovanni chuckled.
“Something funny?” she asked.
He swallowed his smile. “No. Not at all.”
When she turned to go to the bed he reached and caught her hand. He brought her small palm up to his groin. Startled at first, her eyes stretched in surprise. Giovanni nipped her nose and then her bottom lip. “Touch it, feel how much I want you. I want you to know,” he breathed against her mouth. Her gaze flickered down and then up to his eyes. He let his touch drift away, and her hand remained firmly pressed on the erection. It gave him a small measure of relief. Like a good girl she unbuckled his belt. She fumbled a bit and stepped closer to steady her pursuit as she lowered his zipper.
“Che cosa desideri?” He asked. She ran the leather belt through the loops of his pants.
“I don’t understand.” Mira whispered.
“I want to know what it is you desire?”
She smiled up at him with those round brown eyes of hers. Her voice lowered to a soft melody, which sounded purposefully mysterious. “I’d rather you uncover my desires on your own.”
Mira eased her hand into the front slit of his boxers. He sucked in a tight breath when she closed her fingers over his cock. Every muscle in his dick tensed, straining towards her touch. The slow, steady strokes that followed were pure heaven. He wanted her to feel every inch of him. As if understanding his limits she withdrew her hand, rose on her toes, brushing her hard nipples over his chest as she gave him a soft kiss to the lips.
“I like,” she said.
He wanted to tackle her. Throw her on the floor and ravish her, hard and fast. Instead he played it cool. He now had a full view of her backside. The black thong disappeared into shapely round buttocks. The thin lace confection of her negligee inched up to her bikini line when she walked. “I think you said, you wanted me to take it off?”
His throat moved, and he swallowed, still he couldn’t speak. Slowly she eased the negligee over her head and tossed it to the side. She cast him a shy smile over her shoulder, and it was the sweetest one he’d received since they met. “Italia is the country of love? Right? How do you say I want to make love in Italian?” she asked.
“Voglio fare l'amore con te,” he answered.
She repeated the words.
He nodded that she did well.
Closing her eyes she found herself unable to capture a single breath. Her body had complete control over her sensibility. Her nipples tingled and extended. She ached between her thighs with constant contractions of longing and moisture dampened her thong. Lord, why oh why, did I start this? What if I can’t go through with it? She’d only been with two men in her life. The first, misguided love for a hoodlum back in Virginia and the second, a rigid, uncompromising Chinese businessman named Kei, who had been a very controlled lover. This was as bold as she could be.
Thankfully he steadied her. His hands gently cupped her hips to pull her back, eliminating distance between them. Mira exhaled the breath she held and then found the ability to breathe again. Strong arms secured her to him. There was something to be said about a hug. From a man as tall and beautifully proportioned as him, his embrace could easily be labeled as any girl’s protective dream. Visions of being a distressed damsel and her sword wielding Viking prince coming to her rescue played out in her mind.
He enjoyed holding her. It was evident in the way his large hands went all over to massage and fondle her breasts, tummy and between her tightly shut thighs. Mira released a soft sigh and inhaled. His cologne was a fresh, stimulating spice that enveloped her. His erection was as hard as a brick pressed deep between the cheeks of her ass. He moved his hips slightly to rub the rigid thickness between the halves of her butt cheeks. “Oh yes. Yes God,” she softly panted.
The man was blessed below, even for his height and stature she found him huge. The hungry look in his eyes that bore down on her from the first moment they met had her so nervous with anticipation she could feel herself trembling. So this embrace was good. It gave her a minute to collect herself.
Giovanni kissed the side of her face. A deep, heavily accented, soulful voice spoke words so decadent and delicious they warmed the inner channel of her ear and spread through each chamber of her heart. She didn’t care to know the literal translation; she instead relished the feeling the sound of his desires evoked. Tonight belonged to them.
He set aside her hair, his mouth glided over her shoulder, and her teeth bit the corner of her jaw. The sharp sting of a pinch of her left nipple made her squirm and move her ass against his thickness. “Relax.”
God how she wished she could.
He chuckled. His voice went hoarse and low when it whispered into her ear. “I’ll make it so sweet for you, I promise. But you will have to make it sweet for me.”
She nodded. “I can. I will.”
Mira turned and immediately was lifted by the waist. He tossed her higher as if she weighed no more than a feather. Giddy she wrapped her arms around his neck and claimed his mouth, lips, tongue, forcing her passion on him with a deep kiss. Her breasts were mashed into his hard chest, and he squeezed both halves of her butt cheeks controlling their passion. A moan sifted between his lips. Her sex was pressed to his lower abdomen. Giovanni lowered her a fraction causing her chin to tilt and her head to go back. He maintained their kiss while he let her feel the head of his cock that had reached out of the top of his boxers. The man was so powerful he could take her standing if he chose.
He tore his mouth from her and heaved her up in his arms. “Tesoro mio… damn woman, I haven’t wanted someone as badly as I want you.”
“Show me. I’m ready,” she panted.
“Indeed.”
In under three steps he crossed the room with her before lowering her to the bed. She tried to pull him down with her, but he refused her efforts. Instead, he wiped his hand down his face, with eyes glued to the brazen way she lie with her sex now on display. Her knees parted. She remained in position to allow him to feast on her and feel more desired than she had in all her life. Giovanni moistened his lips. Would he kiss her there? Mira’s eyes fluttered shut, and she touched herself. She hoped so. It was so good when he used his tongue. What more would he bring?
A deep groan escaped him. He had stripped himself of his trousers and boxers. His angrily veined cock curled upward and he held it with his hand. Her eyes stretched. How in the hell could she take all of him? The man was huge. And the dangerous smirk he gave her in the dark made her shudder. There would be no escape. She didn’t even dare try. Tonight she’d have to go the distance.
He turned from her and walked over to the other side of the room. She could see his back again clearly. A large tattoo of some kind of tribal pattern stretched over the back of his shoulders. There was another unique tattoo stamped on his chest, and a gothic cross tattooed from the inside of his wrist to the crease of his arm. Nothing was as beautiful as the one on his back. Mira rose on her elbow. Whatever he sought he found. He returned to her. Later she’d ask him about the tattoos and the meaning. Now she could care less. One look at his erection and she was lowering back to the pillow and spreading her legs.
Giovanni captured her ankle. He massaged the center of her foot with the pads of both thumbs. It felt wonderful, relaxing all the muscles up along her calve and thigh. He then pulled her toward the middle of the bed, causing her hair to fan out behind her once she slid across the navy quilted comforter. Positioning her now in the center of the bed, he came over her. In that moment she felt almost virginal. Tonight the new and improved Mira Ellison acted impulsively. Freedom felt glorious. Bracing himself on the palms of his hands, he hovered.
Her own lips parted involuntarily, wanting his tongue in her mouth. As his face grew closer to hers, her eyelids fell shut and her exposed chest rose and fell from the accelerating adrenaline rush. His lips were so close now she could feel the heat of his breath escape his mouth washing over hers.
Gripping the sheet, she wanted it.
She needed it.
The kiss that would seal her fate.
The kiss that would make her his.
Instead, he used his left hand to gingerly stroke her hip, then his strong index finger as it hooked into the rim of her thong, easing it downward. A sharp twinge of disappointment went through her over the missed opportunity to kiss him once more. Her disappointment was short lived because his mouth brushed her lips lovingly before he drew back to sheath his dick. It only took seconds. Fire and desire struck with his tongue slowly tracing over her feverish skin to her collarbone.
He captured a nipple in his mouth and gave it a hard suck. The full eroticism of what was happening to Mira struck her like lightening. Her eyelids fluttered and her heart hammered hard and fast in her chest. He eased downward kissing the indention between her breasts. She pressed on either side of her globes and cushioned his face. He rubbed his jaws between. The scruffy feel of his cheeks sent quivers below. Not soon after his tongue circled her now tender nipple again. The warmth of his breath on her skin as his mouth closed over her areola sent shivers of delight down her spine. They traveled through her pelvis causing her hips to quake as she rotated them underneath him. Taking both hands, she ran them across the hard angles of his back. He positioned himself at her opening, and she braced for what was to come next.
Familiarize, explore, examine, you name it, Giovanni intended to possess every inch of her. Driven by an insane lust he pressed down and found her wet and ready as she ground her pelvis up against his then rubbed her slit along his throbbing cock. Her hand reached to aid his entry, which he grabbed and pinned back over her head. He intended to fuck her, love her, explore every inch of her in due time. A single thrust lodged him deep within her, and he relished the pressure he felt as her tight channel stretched to complete the fit. She arched that lovely body of hers off the bed, back bowed, and lips quivering. Damn! Is she a virgin? No pussy ever felt so glorious. “Bella, you’re tight. For me? All of this sweetness is for me?” he asked, disbelieving how wonderful she felt. She didn’t respond. Fuck he’d spoken in Italian and she probably didn’t understand him. Her pussy clenched tighter. He swirled his hips and pushed forward before lifting his hips to withdraw. He screwed inside her wet heat and pumped his ass until he reached her core.
Giovanni chuckled slightly. He kept circling and pumping against her G-spot, loving the way she moved her ass beneath him in response. Sex with his sweet Bella was blowing his mind. She moaned with frustration once he slowed to taste her lips, and then her sweat. She clawed at his arms and sides trying to draw him down on her. He had to study her a bit longer. Then he found the control to move in and out of her again. His mouth descended on one swollen nipple, moistening it. He pumped his hips harder and faster.
“More!” she cried out.
Giovanni withdrew. He rolled her over to her belly. She raised her perfectly shaped ass temptingly at him. Her body was now glistening with sweat. Giovanni’s hair lay limp with strands covering his eyes and face. Perspiration ran down his temples and the bridge of his nose. The room felt like an inferno. He lifted her hips forcing her to her knees, but she was so caught in her own emotional turmoil she slipped back down to the bed. A slap landed hard on her ass, and she shivered, obeying his unspoken command. Getting to her knees and hands, she shot him a heated glare over her shoulder. He wouldn’t dare smack her ass again without permission. He kissed the tender flesh and eased up behind her, forcing her to lower her face to the mattress with the press of his hand to her right shoulder. Her arms collapsed and her face dropped into the pillow. She moaned again and again as his strokes quickened, sharpened, and her channel became drenched, easing his glide. He enjoyed the warm softness of her ass pressed to his pelvis with each thrust.
Another flurry of deep powerful strokes drove him to the brink. He licked his lips. He felt parched. This vixen, this lovely chocolate temptress, was draining him dry. The more he gave the more she took. Giovanni reached under her, covering her back with his chest, he pinched her bud and pumped hard and fast in her channel. She cried out, with her face lifting from the pillow.
Mira collapsed flat on the bed. She squeezed her thighs tight in response to the orgasmic pull he was certain was the cause for the way she trembled below and begged for mercy.
“Yes. Yes. Yes!” she wailed. “Oh yes,” she exclaimed.
To his surprise, she flipped to her back and scooted out of his reach to the headboard and pillows. Unwilling to let her go, he pulled her back to him. “We aren’t done.” Putting her left leg over his shoulder he pushed her thigh back into her chest as he positioned himself. Re-entry was twice as sweet. It was as if their union was destined. He slid his way into her. Her eyelids half open and heavy from sexual exhaustion, she moaned softly upon his re-entry. Pulling half way out and then pushing all the way in, Giovanni closed his eyes, overcome by warmth and heat. He struggled to stay in control as he felt his body stiffen with a desperate need to possess her. Pinning her leg down he kept with his passionate thrusts, promising to go with more care the next time. He was wound so tight he needed her desperately for his own release.
She understood. Pushing him she forced him to not break their sexy rhythm but to roll. He understood and complied bringing her on top. She arched her back sliding down on him again. He held her by her right hip tightly. She threw her head back and put down a powerful up and down bounce on his cock that had tension exploding from his groin and cock.
“Fuck!” he wheezed. Placing both her hands against his chest, she rocked back and forth driving him to the breaking point. Giovanni’s hips bucked two more times before all was unleashed, and hot semen filled the reservoir of his condom. Feeling his chest muscles tighten and his nails dig into her hips, he kept up the rhythmic roll of his hips, and she continued to pump her hips to control him. Together they exploded and crashed into a sexed out daze.
The woman lying next to him stirred. Giovanni’s head turned. She drifted to sleep soon after their love session. An hour of staring at the ceiling trying to figure out all that had transpired between them had left him restless. He rolled to his side. There were few things in the world he needed as opposed to wanted. And nothing in this world was denied him. Giovanni decided. He would have her, for as long as this feeling lasted. The problem for him remained consistent. He wasn’t sure what these feelings she stirred within him were?
With his head propped in his hand, he studied the sleeping beauty. The thick mane of curls that bounced on her shoulders when she walked had become a bit tangled and frizzy. Hair covered the side of her face. He smoothed away the tresses to reveal her delicate features.
Mira opened her eyes in response to his touch. “Hi,” she said softly.
“I woke you.”
“It’s okay. What time is it?” she squinted at him.
Giovanni looked at his watch. “A little after three.”
A frown dawned her face. “Oh, I should go to my room.”
“This is your room. You will stay with me here.”
She opened her mouth to object, and he silenced her with a kiss. Like the sexy attentive lover he’d found so addictive, she slipped her tongue into his mouth and overwhelmed him. The kiss came to a natural end. She snuggled up against him, and he cradled the side of her face with his hand. “It’s settled.”
He kissed her nose and then her brow.
Mira stroked his hip. Her hand ran slowly down his thigh. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
“I was thinking about you, while I slept,” she teased.
Both of his eyebrows lowered. “I’m in your dreams?”
“Yes. Question after question kept surfacing in my head. One kept repeating over and over. It’s how I am, I have to over analyze everything.” She gave him a bashful smile. “Even things that feel good.”
“Now I’m curious,” he said, trying to roll her over and get between her warm thighs once more.
“Wait.” She stopped him. “Don’t you want to know what it is?”
“Mmm?”
“It’s the question that Fabiana struggled with asking. The one that you evaded.”
“I didn’t evade. I answered her.”
“Then answer me now. Who are you?”
“Who am I?” he laughed. “I thought you and I covered this one.”
Mira laughed as well. “No. I want to know, what is it that you do exactly?”
He kissed her lips softly. His face lifted with a boyish smile so wide and pure. How could she think he could be part of something nefarious? In this moment his handsome features almost made him angelic. Still she wanted to know about him. The hard demeanor, the power he exuded among men, the tattoos on his arms and back. “Are you the leader of a Mafia family? What does that mean? Being a Don?”
“What do you think it means?”
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Answer a question with a question. I know you aren’t a drug dealer. I’m asking about organized crime. Are you really some sort of Mafia king or something?”
Giovanni withdrew from her. “Or something,” he mumbled.
Mira turned to her side. “You were going to be a lawyer. You studied in America. Why didn’t you finish that dream?”
“It was just a dream, and dreams aren’t meant to be finished. Plus that was my mother’s wish, not mine.” He said dryly. “I told you my father needed me. As did my family. So that dream is over.”
“That’s not true, I dreamt all my life to—”
“To what? Be a dress maker?” he laughed at her. “Some dream. Making rags for spoiled pampered brats!” he spat.
Mira flinched. She sat upright. “That was uncalled for! How dare you talk to me like that?” she said angrily turning to get out of bed.
He reached gripping her arm forcefully, pulling her back to him. “I’m sorry.”
“Let go!” she shouted, trying to push him away.
Giovanni overpowered her, pinning her to the bed. “I said I’m sorry!” he said in her face. “The fight is over.”
She stopped struggling underneath him.
He sighed. “I overreacted. Let’s not make a big deal out of it.”
“Is that how you respond when you’re asked a question you don’t like?”
“No, no…I was wrong. Let’s start over. I shouldn’t have insulted you. We cannot discuss my business. It’s not something that you and I will ever discuss.”
“You’re right, because there is no us. Now will you please let me go so I can return to my room?”
“Shit.”
“NOW!” she refused to be swayed.
Giovanni released her. He fell over to his back blowing out a frustrated breath. Mira rose from the bed. She hurried to gather her robe and cover herself. She could barely stand on her feet without swaying. Her legs and back ached from the acrobatics performed in his bed. She needed a tub packed with ice for relief.
“So this is what you do? You run because we disagree?” He glared after her.
“No. Watch me walk away, and not look back.”
“Wait.”
“Screw you, Giovanni.”
“Bella!” He shouted in a deep authoritative voice that stopped her cold. She glanced back at him almost in fear from the hard tone he used. But he didn’t seem to be threatening her. He looked more pained than anything else.
Giovanni put his hand to his forehead and rested his elbow against his raised knee. “My mother was a sad complicated woman. She lost a lot of her happiness at a young age and gave up her family to be with my father. She wasn’t Sicilian. Do you understand?”
“No.”
“She asked for very little from my father, only the best for her children. She wanted me to be a lawyer. It was her dream. I wanted to be my father; that was my dream. Those two dreams could not exist in one man. So the time came for me to make a choice.” He extended his arms. “This is my choice. My famiglia, is my choice. My business is a lot of things. And most of these things are within and beyond the law. None of it has anything to do with you and me.”
Masterful persuasion seemed to be his style, but when he spoke to her she couldn’t help but recognize his sincerity. “Your life sounds complicated.”
“It’s extremely complicated, Bella; my existence is rooted in contradictions and complications. Do you know what is not complicated? Us. This that we share. Passion. I make you feel good? Don’t I? You make me feel more of a man than anyone outside of those doors.”
“Because of the sex.”
“Because of your fire.” He smirked.
Mira rolled her eyes. Still, she couldn’t help smiling.
“We have a friendship, right? No strings. No need to attach meaning to what I do, if we are just enjoying each other. You appearing from nowhere reminds me of why I should not let complications get the better of me. If I do, I will miss some of the sweetness of life.”
The harsh uneven rhythm of her breathing thinned. The man spoke like a poet and with his accent she weakened. Her thoughts became muddled, and she couldn’t remember in that moment why they argued.
“I say what I mean, without a filter, Bella.”
“I see.”
“With you, I will be more cautious,” he said sincerely.
Her memories of their shared passion were pure and clear, at the front of her mind. It made his apology sweeter. The man didn’t really owe her any further explanation than the one he gave. She stared at him and wondered so many things. What did the tattoos on his body mean? What made him so angry and gentle all at once? What woman had his heart and how could she ever compete. He raised his hand to her.
“Veini qui. Abbracciami.”
“Translation?” she asked softly.
“Come here, hold me.” A mischievous, sly, smile tipped the corner of his mouth upward. As if the denial of his request was not an option. Mira wanted to yield to the burning sweetness that made her his captive. Her feet moved under his command. She shed her robe and crawled back over the large bed to him. “I think I like complicated,” she said.
“And I think I know what else you like.” he rolled her under him and her lungs dragged in deep breaths. He drew her to the edge of the bed and stood. She again was confronted with the angry long erection she longed to possess. Giovanni would oblige. His large hands smoothed over her skin and down her thighs before he spread her legs and lowered to his knees before her. She stared down the line of her body at him.
“Let me apologize properly.”
Lust pushed him straight into full-on arousal. A deep groan escaped his throat as he thrust his tongue deeply into her core and his hands clenched the soft lush curves of her firm ass. Her body undulated in response and her mound pressed upon his face. If he could smile he would. Damn. He could dine here for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day.
He sensed the awakening flames within her. He fucked her with his tongue, sucked and nibbled on her clitoris until she thrashed and pounded her small fists against the mattress for release, and release she did. Lapping with repeated flicks of his tongue, he enjoyed her torment.
She sat up in the bed and squeezed her thighs tightly shut while she shook hard through her climax. Giovanni peered up at her, still on his knees. He rose, lifting her legs and cinching them around his waist. Their eyes met. He found her wide gaze, full of appreciation for what they now shared. It made him more confident. He liked the way he saw himself in her eyes. He could believe himself worthy with this woman.
Intent on full possession, he drove his cock into her. He tossed his hips side-to-side to sink deeper. “So good,” he groaned. “More,” he said. “I like how tight you keep it for me, how you move your ass. Like this. Yes.” He said thrusting in and out of her. She bucked her pelvis when he thrust deeper and he speared her with a hard glance. Though she moved the way he desired, he felt a sharp pang of jealousy that she would know so much of his needs. How many other men had known her sweet body? Who were the motherfuckers that came before him? He wanted names and address so he could send his men in to take care of the competition permanently.
“Don’t stop,” she moaned. Giovanni had slowed his passionate thrusts. He fell back over her and started to fuck her on the edge of the bed. A shiver racked her body and he knew she was close. Knowing his weight was making her breathless, he tried to lessen his passionate thrusts, but he soon slipped beyond control. Spiraling toward his own orgasmic ending that nearly made him weep like an infant.