Dark Desire (Famiglia Book 1)

by A. J. Daniels

  My breath hitches, my heart sputtering to a stop before kick starting just as the figure starts walking toward me, a cigar dangling between the fingers of his right hand.

  “What are you doing here?”

  The back of his hand runs down the side of my face, his dark eyes taking in the tank top that doesn’t do a good job concealing the tops of my breasts, down to the blue Vans.

  “Came to see you, Mia Bella.”

  “Your idea of seeing me is waiting on the sidewalk, hoping I’ll come down?” I grin.

  “I was about to call you to come down.”

  “How do you know my number? I don’t remember giving it to you.”

  Braxton grins, his thumb running over my lips, his eyes heating. “I know a lot of things, Mia Bella.”

  “Like what?” I ask, almost panting, the sweet smell of cigar smoke tickling my nose.

  He drops his hand, taking a step back and shaking his head. “Come,” he says, holding out his elbow for me to take. “Let’s take a walk. Grab a coffee,” he adds when he senses my hesitation.

  Braxton pays for my Americano Misto—against my protests—and his black coffee. I should’ve figured he was a black coffee kinda guy. We make it to the park by the university before either one of us speaks again. It’s a comfortable silence, don’t get me wrong, but I’m itching to learn more about him. To learn more about the man under the suit, under the persona.

  “I had a good time last night. Thank you.” I try to rack my brain for something more to say, but when I’m around him something happens between my brain and my mouth, and it’s like all connection is lost. I know what I want to ask him, to tell him, but I have no idea how or even where to start.

  He chuckles, leading us to a bench. “You’re welcome, Mia Bella.”

  I take a seat, cocking my head to the side. “What does that mean? You’ve called me that quite a bit.”

  Braxton grins, taking the seat next to me. “It means my beautiful.”

  He glances at me out the corner of his eye, waiting to see my reaction, but all I can do is sit and stare at him, sure my jaw is resting on the floor with his admission. There’s no way Braxton thinks I’m beautiful. I mean, look at him. He even looks important just sitting on a park bench with a coffee cup in his hand. His dark hair is slicked back again, not a hair out of place, and my fingers itch to run through it, to see what he looks like when he’s not so perfectly put together. I want to see what he looks like when he first wakes up in the morning, when his voice is filled with sleep.

  I take a sip of my coffee and try to swallow past the lump in my throat. “How did you know what to do that night in your car?” I don’t know where that question came from. That part of the night is the furthest thing from my mind at his moment, but something he said to me after that has been nagging at me, I guess.

  “My sister,” he clears his throat, his gaze trained on a tree in the distance.

  “She had panic attacks?”

  “Panic attacks, anxiety, severe depression.” His jaw ticks. “The panic attacks were usually always a result of the anxiety. She would work herself up so much that it would cause a panic attack.” He hunches forward, leaning his elbows on his knees and placing his coffee cup on the ground between his feet. “We didn’t know how bad the depression was until it was too late.”

  I don’t know what the appropriate thing is to say to him. I’m sorry doesn’t seem like it’ll cut it. So I don’t say anything, choosing to stay quiet in hopes that he’ll continue.

  “She was always so good at hiding her emotions. She had to be, growing up with the father we did. I was the only one in the family who knew about her anxiety, and that was only because I happened to walk in mid attack. She was embarrassed that I had seen it, and she hated the fact that I had watched it happen. Always so prideful. So stubborn. She refused any help I offered. Insisted that it was her burden to bear, and that she was handling it.”

  His shoulders deflate, and I think this is the first time I’m seeing him without a mask in place. This isn’t some dark persona to keep people away. This is the real Braxton. I lay a hand on his shoulder, but that causes him to stiffen almost immediately, and I regret my decision to do it.

  “Do you mind me asking what happened?”

  He hangs his head and I’m sure he’s not going to tell me. Heck, I wouldn’t tell me either. We don’t know each other very well and this is some heavy shit.

  “I found her in the bathtub the day before her eighteenth birthday.” He blows out a harsh breath before continuing. “She had slit both her wrists.”

  “Oh, Braxton—”

  “The EMT’s said she had been gone for a while before I found her. I was at a fucking business meeting with my father when my sister was taking her own life.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, pulling him into me and wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders. I know those three little words offer no comfort but I don’t know what else to tell him right now that will, So I do the only thing I can think of and hold him.

  It seems like minutes, but I know it’s only been seconds before I feel his full lips press against my neck in a kiss. His fingers grip my hips, dragging me closer to him, until I’m almost sitting in his lap. Our coffees long forgotten.

  “I need you, Mia Bella.”

  I swallow hard, my heart racing. “Okay,” I breathe close to his ear at the same time my phone pings with a new message.

  Dri: Gone to Matt’s.

  My palms are sweaty when I stand from the bench and pocket my phone. My throat is dry when I reach a hand out for Braxton to take, and those damn butterflies are fluttering in my belly again when I lead us back to my apartment.

  “BRAXTON…I-I’VE never—” I swallow hard and try again, placing a hand on his solid chest. “I’ve never done this before. Sex. I’ve never…” My cheeks heat, and he stills his exploration of my body.

  “Do you want me, Klara?” He slowly raises his head until we’re face to face again. Dark, lust filled eyes meeting my hooded blues.

  “Yes.” As if to prove how much, I rub against him again, his cock twitching against my lower abdomen.

  “Keys, Klara. Don’t need an audience for what I’m about to do to you.”

  With shaking hands, I fumble around my oversized purse cursing myself the entire time. Why did I have to be drawn to the bigger, oversize purses? Why couldn’t I be drawn to the cute shoulder ones, or the small clutches? ‘Cause if I was then finding my keys would be a whole lot damn easier, and the sooner I find these damn keys, the faster I can get Braxton in my apartment, and finally get to see what lies beneath the expensive suits. Can finally feel his hard body against mine.

  Finally, thank fuck, my fingers wrap around the cool metal and I unlock my door, stepping aside to let Braxton in. The minute he steps around me he has me pinned against the now closed front door. His hands back to their exploration of my body, his breath causing little wisps of my hair to tickle the back of my neck sending shivers racing down my spine.

  Braxton abruptly spins me around, lifting me up causing my legs to wrap around his waist and pinning my back to the door. His teeth nip along my jaw before pulling my bottom lip into his mouth and sucking it. I moan, tightening my grip around his waist and pulling him closer. I can feel his rigid length rub against the wet spot coating my panties.

  His fingers trail down my middle, dipping below the skirt of my dress. Braxton runs a finger up and down my satin covered slit. I moan and arch into his touch. It’s not enough, I want more. I need more.

  “Has anybody touched you like this, baby? You’re already so wet for me, Mia Bella.” His nose runs up my throat, nipping at my earlobe.

  “No,” I pant, trying to get closer.

  His hands move from around my body, brushing the hair out of my eyes. Pinching my chin between his fingers he forces my face up to his. He’s so close, if I were to lean forward an inch I could have his lips back on me.

  “Good,” he growls. “Once I
have you, Klara, you’re mine. No one else’s. Understand? I don’t share what’s mine.”

  His hard eyes bore into mine expecting an answer. I don’t give it a second thought. I nod and swallow hard, and try like hell not to dwell on his words too much. Not right now. Right now, I just need Braxton De Luca. All of him. Every single hard inch.

  “I’m yours.”

  “Bedroom,” he demands, nipping my bottom lip harder this time.

  “It’s the one on the left.”

  Our apartment is a simple open plan layout. When you walk through the front door, you walk immediately into the living room which leads directly into the open kitchen. There’s a bedroom on either side of the apartment between the living room and kitchen. Dri’s is on the right. We each have our own ensuite bathroom. The only thing that sucks about this building is the laundry room is in the basement, and is shared between all the units. But the rent is cheap-ish and I have my own bathroom so I can’t really complain.

  Braxton deposits me in the middle of the bed, immediately following me down, his hands sliding up my sides lifting my dress with them as they go until it slips past my fingers. His hands pin mine down into the soft sheets above my head, his nose buried in my neck again, his tongue licking a fiery trail up to my jaw. His fingers slide down my arms as he licks his way down my body, stopping to nip at the sensitive skin around my belly button, before continuing its trail down.

  “Mmm, you smell as good as I remember, Mia Bella.” Braxton runs his nose up my panty covered slit until his lips find my clit and he licks through the satin.

  “Ahh,” I moan, arching off the bed.

  Braxton chuckles and does it again, obviously amused at my reaction. It’s only when I buck my hips to try and get more friction he stops. His fingers curl around the waistband of my panties and sliding them down my legs.

  “Tell me, Mia Bella, has anyone ever licked you here?” he asks, sliding a finger up and down my slit.

  “N-No.” I’m going out of my mind with need. I need him, his fingers, his lips, his cock. Him.

  “Good.” His warm breath skates over my exposed flesh. “Everything I kiss, everything my lips touch on this beautiful body is mine.”

  I barely have time to nod before I feel his tongue dart out and lick up my folds before finding my clit and flicking it. Once. Twice. Three times. Then his lips close around my clit and he sucks. Holy freaking shit! That feels so good.

  Braxton slides a finger inside my pussy while his mouth works my clit. I’m not afraid to admit that I’ve given myself some pretty freaking great orgasms with my purple rabbit, but I can almost never come from just penetration alone. Ninety-percent of my orgasms have been clitoral. But I should’ve known that will never be a problem with Braxton because I can already feel it building inside me.

  He sucks harder, his other hand reaching up to the undo the front clasp of my bra, immediately finding my nipple and pinching it between his fingers. I think I’m going to lose my mind. It’s too much; his fingers tugging on my nipple, his lips around my clit, and now two fingers sliding in and out of my pussy. It’s all too much, and I don’t think I can take it anymore. Then he curls his fingers and I see stars. Braxton continues his onslaught through my orgasm, not stopping until the walls of my pussy stop clenching around his fingers.

  He moves up my body, trailing little kisses along my hips, my stomach, between my breasts before circling each nipple with his tongue and drawing it into his mouth, sucking until my back arches off the bed again, then continuing to trail those drugging kisses up my throat, along my jaw and finally, finally I get those lips back on mine.

  He’s marking me. Claiming me as his.

  When my arms wrap around his back I realize that while I’m fully naked and exposed beneath him, Braxton is still fully dressed, but he doesn’t protest when I work his dress shirt out of his pants, then my fingers are fumbling to undo the buttons and pushing the shirt off his shoulders.

  My palms run over solid, sculptured muscle as I follow the smattering of neatly trimmed chest hair down between his pecs, over his abs, to the trail that disappears behind the waistband of his pants. Then he’s moving away, standing at the foot of the bed. With heat blazing behind his lust-filled eyes, he undoes his belt, pushing his pants and boxers down legs as thick as tree trunks.

  I gulp when my eyes land on his cock and the hand he has wrapped around it stroking slowly up and down. Up and down. All of a sudden, I feel as inexperienced as I am. I’m not sure I’ll be able to take all of him. He’s huge, and I’m a twenty-three-year-old virgin. Suddenly, this feels all wrong. He’s so much more experienced than I am, he’s also older by seven years—a fact I found out at dinner. Why would he want anything to do with me? I’m positive he could have his pick of women. Garnered by the all the looks he drew today, he would have no problem snapping his fingers and having an experienced woman at his feet, ready to do whatever he commanded. So why me?

  Warm fingers wrap around my leg, lifting my foot before his lips are pressing a kiss to my inside ankle. Shivers race down my body, my core clenches. Fuck, that feels so good. With just one touch, I no longer care why I captured his attention. All I care about is that he’s here now with me, and while it may never progress outside this room, I’m going to bask in his touch tonight.

  I hear the tear of a foil wrapper seconds before Braxton is crawling back up my body, planting his elbows on either side of my head, his nose inches away from mine.

  “Wrap your legs around my waist, Klara.”

  I do as he instructs and instantly feel him prodding at my entrance. My entire body stiffening. Braxton places soft kisses along my jaw.

  “I’ll go as slow as you want me to, Klara. You’re in control here.”

  His words offer more comfort to me than he can ever know. With a shaky breath, I force my body to relax when I feel the head of his cock pushing in. The pain is instant. I have to shut my eyes and remind myself to not tense up, to keep breathing, but thankfully Braxton stills allowing me time to get used to his cock stretching me. Then after a while I start squirming beneath him, needing him to move.

  Braxton kisses each one of my eyelids before resting his cheek against mine as he starts to move, slowly at first, and then his pace picks up when my hips buck up to meet each one of his downward thrusts. His scent wrapping around me like a security blanket.

  I have no idea what the future holds for either one of us, but right here, right now, as I cling to Braxton De Luca and my body races toward a free fall, I curse my heart for trying to attach itself to a man we cannot have. A man who only after one day already holds the potential to break my heart in ways I don’t want to imagine. A man I know nothing about.

  ***

  When I wake up the next morning I’m not surprised that Braxton is nowhere to be found. His side of the bed is already cold, telling me he probably waited until I fell asleep to sneak out. It shouldn’t surprise me. I know it shouldn’t. And yet, it still does. I’m not sure what I expected after last night.

  That after I gave him a part of me nobody else has had he would magically want to stick around? Did I really expect that after one day he would want to be with me? Because if I did then I really am just a naïve little girl.

  “Everything I kiss, everything my lips touch on this beautiful body is mine.”

  Was it all just lies to get me into bed?

  I sigh, tossing an arm over my eyes. Get over it, Klara. He told you what he thought you wanted to hear to get you into bed. It was a one-night stand. Simple. You were practically begging for it.

  Frustrated with the turn my thoughts have taken now that it’s the day after, I throw back the covers and hop into a shower, allowing the hot warmth to ease away some of the ache in my muscles. I try to wash the smell of sex and Braxton from my body, but no matter how much I scrub, I can still feel his touch, still feel his fingers gripping onto my hip, still feel his breath on my neck, his lips placing kisses behind my ear.

  Knows what he
’s doing: Check.

  Shutting the water off, I quickly dry off and throw on a clean pair of yoga pants and a racer back tank, tossing a sweater and change of clothes into my gym bag. The shower didn’t help to get my mind off Braxton, it only added to the onslaught of images already playing, but maybe a session at the gym is just the thing I need.

  Adrienne isn’t out in the living room when I go to fill a shaker bottle with my usual pre-workout and water, and her door is still slightly ajar which likely means she never came home last night. My lips quirk in a half smile having some idea of where she likely spent last night.

  I toss the gym bag over one shoulder so it’s resting across my body making my way downstairs and out into the crisp early summer morning. I love days like this. When the morning still has that clean spring smell and feel to it, but by early afternoon it’s hot and well on its way to being summer.

  The gym is about a thirty-minute walk away, which gives me the perfect amount of time to drink my pre-workout and have it kick in by the time I hop on the elliptical. Usually, I’ll do fifteen on the treadmill and fifteen on the elliptical as my warm up cardio, but today I need to sweat out some frustration. So as soon as I lock my bag in my locker, I jump on the elliptical, hit fast start and immediately try to get my stride up to 6.5.

  It doesn’t take long ‘til I’m dripping sweat and my legs are burning. After wiping down the machine I move onto the leg press and stack forty-fives as well as thirty-fives on each side of the bar before climbing in and bracing my feet in a wide stance. I push up slightly and release the holds, then bring my knees down toward my chest before pushing back up. I do three sets of twenty-five of these before moving on to straight leg deadlifts. I do another three sets of twenty-five of these with a seventy-pound weighted bar. Leg and calf extensions are next before moving on to squats and finishing with straight leg kick backs. By the time I’m done an hour and a half has passed and I jump on the treadmill to finish out my workout with a moderate jog.