Omertà

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Chapter Three

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Illaria’s POV.

‘Ria,’ he breathes my name, sending a shiver down my spine.

A good shiver.

‘I want you.’

Those three words have my toes curling in my heels.

I want him, too.

‘Tonight, I’m yours,’ I reply.

He looks conflicted, both happy and annoyed at my words.

‘Let me take you back to my flat and worship you,’ he pleads, something I imagine this man rarely does.

How can I say no?

‘Okay,’ I whisper quietly.

He grins at me and kisses my lips softly. With the confidence of a powerful man, he leads me over to a flashy Roll’s. My eyes nearly bug out at the sight of it.

Jesus, what does this man do?

I don’t really want to know.

I don’t care what he does, this is only about tonight.

I climb into the back with him. Two of the guards get in the front, the other two follow behind in an SUV.

Unhappy with me sat next to him, Lucca pulls me onto his lap and buckles us in together. I don’t complain, I love being so close to him.

A small part of me is terrified. Not because of who this man is and what he can do. But because I have never felt like this about someone before. I’m scared at how much I want him, how well my body reacts to him.

This isn’t normal, is it? For it to feel this good, this fast?

Whilst my mind is racing, Lucca is drawing soothing circles on my bare thigh with his calloused thumb. I relax into his chest and try not to overthink it.

The car pulls up in front of a skyscraper building. Lucca helps me out and ushers me inside. We take the lift up again, with all four bodyguards joining us. It’s a decadent, yet cosy experience.

We go to the top floor, the penthouse. Two bodyguards enter first and check the apartment is clear.

I feel nervous as I stand next to Lucca and the other two bodyguards in the hallway.

He’s only twenty-five, how many enemies does this man have?

Imagine having to have your home checked before you enter it.

Once it is deemed clear, Lucca dismisses bodyguards and we go into the flat alone. I suddenly feel nervous without their presence. It really is just the two of us now.

I take off my heels, eager to give my feet a break. Lucca removes his shoes and pulls off his tie.

‘Would you like a drink?’ He offers, but I shake my head.

He holds out his hand for me to take. I slide mine into it and he leads me down the hallway. I think he’s taking us to the bedroom, so I’m surprised when we enter the open-plan kitchen and living room.

He removes his jacket and we sit down on the sofa. It faces the floor-to-ceiling window, which shows the beautiful panorama of the city at night.

‘Wow,’ I whisper.

I’m in awe at the sight of all the city lights.

‘It really is something, isn’t it?’ Lucca muses and I nod in agreement.

I expected him to want to go straight to bed, but he doesn’t. He puts his arm around me and I cuddle into his side. He asks me more questions. This time he wants to know about my childhood, my school life, what has made me who I am.

I’ve never had a guy show this much interest and not want something in return. He seems genuinely interested in me and not what’s under my dress.

The experience is a novel one.

One o’clock hits and I curl up against Lucca. He kisses my forehead and I look up at him. Our eyes meet and he slowly leans down. Our lips touch and sparks fly again.

I push myself up against him, kissing him harder. He matches my enthusiasm and buries his hands in my hair.

His tongue enters my mouth and I moan around it. Kissing him is my new favourite thing to do.

Before I know it, I’ve swung my leg over his lap and I’m straddling him. My arms are around his neck and his hands drop to my hips.

I can feel his growing erection underneath me. I grind against it, eliciting a moan from him. He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on mine.

’We don’t have to go any further, dolcezza,′ he assures me.

He just spoke Italian to me. I have no say anymore, my panties are dropping of their own accord.

‘Are you kidding me?’ I reply and he looks at me in confusion, ‘keep speaking in Italian and I won’t be responsible for my actions.’

He chuckles at my confession.

Ti piace quando parlo in italiano, dolcezza?′ He teases me, his accent thick and sexy as hell.

I groan and throw my head back. ‘Fuck, that’s so hot. What did you say?’ I ask in a pained voice.

He laughs at me and tucks his hands under my butt. He stands up suddenly, making me yelp in surprise and hold his neck more tightly.

He carries me through his flat. ‘I asked if you like it when I speak in Italian,’ he answers.

‘Oh! Then yes, definitely sì,’ I respond and he grins at me.

He takes me into his bedroom, which is decorated in a deep burgundy. He places me gently on the bed and stands before me.

I swallow hard when he starts to undo the buttons on his shirt. He hesitates when he reaches the last button.

’I must warn you dolcezza, I have a lot of scars,′ he says and pulls off his shirt.

My mouth drops open, but it is nothing to do with his scars. His chest is incredible. So much muscle.

Nearly every inch of his deeply tanned skin is covered in tattoos. Omertà is tattooed across his stomach, as if I needed any more clues that he is part of the mafia.

I sit up and climb off the bed. I stand in front of him, admiring his beautiful body. Without my heels, I’m almost a foot shorter at him at 5"5.

’And a lot of ink, damn,′ I mumble.

He chuckles at my words and the tension leaves his body.

Was he really worried about what I would think of his scars?

They are only visible up close. The tattoos hide them well. A couple I recognise as bullet wounds, but most of them are knife wounds, I think.

I run my fingers over some of them and his giant body shudders under my touch. I move around to his back and my breath catches in my throat.

His back is just as covered in ink as his front. There is a mix of writing and imagery. A couple of phrases are in Italian, so I cannot understand them. I roll my eyes at a common one, ‘Only God can judge me.’

His family crest is on his shoulder, with Vilenzo written on a banner beneath it. Two crossed guns are on the opposite shoulder blade.

‘Do...do you like them?’ He asks, without turning around.

He sounds nervous. It’s strange, hearing such a beast of a man be nervous.

‘I love them,’ I tell him honestly.

He spins around, startling me. His lips are on mine in an instant. His tongue brushes against mine and I lose my control. My hands drop to his trousers, where I hurriedly start undoing his buttons and pull down the zipper.

He helps me push them off, leaving only a pair of Armani boxers. He undoes the zip on my dress and I let it fall to the floor.

His eyes rake up and down my body. I struggle not to try and cover myself. Wearing a g-string and lacy bra, I feel extremely exposed.

He grabs my wrists and kisses each one.

’Don’t ever be shy around me, dolcezza,′ he says huskily, ‘I adore your body. You are the most exquisite woman I have ever seen.’

He could be lying. He could say this every woman he beds. But right now, I don’t care. His words fill me with the confidence to unhook my bra and let it drop to the floor.

His eyes land on my pierced nipples and his jaw clenches. I hook my thumbs in my panties and take them off.

He groans and throws his head back, his eyes closing briefly.

Amore mio,′ he rasps, ‘you’re an angel.’

I can’t stop the blood from rising to my cheeks at his compliment. I’ve never been called an angel by a guy before.

Something pops into my mind and I blurt out the question. ‘Do you have a condom?’

He frowns and then chuckles. ‘Uh, yes, but we won’t be needing them.’

I raise my eyebrow at him and cross my arms over my chest.

‘And why not?’

He smiles cockily. ’I’m not using a condom with you dolcezza, I want to feel all of you.′

I stare at this man like he’s mad, maybe he is.

‘Have you ever heard of STI’s? No offence, but you don’t strike me as the kind of guy who has slept with a small number of women, I’m not having sex with you without a condom.’

My words piss him off. Understandably, I know. It was a rude thing to say, but his confidence hardly screams virginal.

He narrows his eyes at me and takes a threatening step closer.

’Listen here dolcezza, I have never before had sex without a condom. You will be my first, which is the way I want it. I am clean, I swear it. Despite what you might think about me, I do not sleep around. The last time I slept with someone was months ago.′

I swallow hard, unsure of what to say to that. He’s being honest. I don’t know how I can tell, but I just can.

He takes my hands and leads me to the bed.

‘Lie down and let me worship you the way you deserve.’

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