His Mafioso Princess

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His Mafioso Princess Page 17

by Terri Anne Browning


  “What are you going to do? Should I call Cristiano?”

  I gripped the back of my neck with my left hand, squeezing it as a tension headache began to throb at my temples. “No,” I whispered. “I don’t want to involve him.” Even though I knew he was going to freak when he and Papa found out I wasn’t home.

  I didn’t know what Adrian was going to do about my family, but I didn’t want to call my brother and beg for help. Again. I needed to learn to start handling things on my own.

  And deep down, I wanted to see what happened with Adrian. Wanted to see what his plan was to keep me in a house that he kept saying was ours. Maybe I was turning into a masochist, because I mostly just wanted to sleep in that huge-ass bed with him tonight.

  However, my insulin wasn’t going to last more than a day, less than that if my glucose levels didn’t stay down.

  “I’m going to need more insulin,” I told her as I packed up my things and put them carefully back in my clutch.

  Anya groaned. “What am I supposed to do about that? Just tell him, so he can get you what you need.”

  “I’m not ready to tell him.” I wasn’t ready to dive into the deep end where my illness was concerned. Wasn’t ready to show him just how vulnerable and weak I really was. I wanted him to continue to think I was perfect.

  Just for a little longer.

  “Please, Anya. I’ll call Allegra, and she can put together an overnight bag with everything I need. Pick it up and drop it off for me.” I leaned my head back against the door, feeling chilled, but not ready to leave the bathroom.

  “Fine,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “I’ll do what I can. He might not let me past the gate, though.”

  “Then just leave it with one of the guards. I don’t really care as long as I get what I need.”

  “You’re going to have to eventually tell him, Victoria.”

  “Eventually isn’t right now,” I snapped, then sucked in a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m exhausted, and I still have to deal with Adrian. This isn’t easy for me.”

  There was a pause on her end, before she finally spoke again. “I know, myshka. Just don’t leave it until you need help and he doesn’t know what the fuck to do.”

  Before I could speak again, she hung up. Then I just sat there for a while.

  She was right, but I still wasn’t ready to tell him.

  After taking care of my used syringe, I washed my hands. Finding a washcloth, I washed my face, then just sat down on the closed toilet seat. A good twenty minutes had passed, and I knew I had to leave the sanctuary of the bathroom soon or he was going to come in for me. The locked door wouldn’t stop him for long.

  A hard knock on the door only confirmed that a few minutes later. “Victoria?”

  I pushed my hair back from my face and forced myself to stand. Crossing to the door, I opened it a few inches.

  Adrian stood on the other side, his face dark with concern as his eyes scanned over my face.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I just needed a little bit to myself.” Not a lie. I had used the time to get myself under some semblance of control, to prepare my heart for when I actually crawled into bed with this man.

  “Are you finished? Will you come to bed now?” His voice had lowered, and the look that filled his dark eyes right then made me shiver with anticipation.

  I swallowed hard, reminding myself that he was married. That he had a family and I wasn’t a part of it. If I went to bed with him, if I let him touch me as my body ached to be touched, then I was letting him make me his mistress.

  “Only to sleep.”

  His face didn’t change as he nodded. “Of course. Sleep only, unless you say otherwise.”

  That wasn’t the least bit reassuring.

  Chapter 22

  Adrian

  The sight of Victoria in my bed—in our bed—was one of my fantasies come to life.

  Where she was concerned, I had a million different fantasies, but this one was at the top of the list. From the moment I had set eyes on her, all I could picture was her spread across a bed, her long, burnished red hair flowing over my pillow as she begged me to hold her.

  She wasn’t begging me for anything right then, but I knew I could change that if given enough time.

  She sat on the edge of the bed, her bare feet folded under her as she glanced around. Her eyes took their time, moving from one piece of artwork on the walls to another before going to the dresser then the vanity I had thought she might like. It had been there for weeks now, ever since I had admitted to myself that she was it for me.

  She was still in her dress. I knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep in it, but I also knew she would probably have punched me in the face if I suggested she sleep naked. Her fierceness was fucking sexy as hell.

  Being the gentleman I knew I really wasn’t, I went to the dresser and pulled out one of my T-shirts. “Here, kotyonok.” I set the shirt on the end of the bed. “You will be more comfortable in this.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured. Standing, she began to unzip her dress, but the zipper caught halfway down.

  Glad for a reason to touch her, I crossed the space that divided us and brushed her hands away before undoing the zipper myself. I wasn’t blind to how her breathing had changed at my nearness, or the soft gasp that left her as I skimmed my fingers over the exposed skin I had uncovered.

  With the zipper completely undone now, I was reluctant to move away. This close, I could smell the floral scent of her shampoo and the daisy perfume she always wore.

  I caught her hips and pulled her back against me as I breathed in deeply, filling my senses with this woman who I had been deprived of for too fucking long.

  She seemed to melt into me, her body going languid against mine as she tilted her head to the side and her hair fell over one shoulder. Unable to stop myself, I lowered my head until my lips touched her exposed neck. Her skin was the perfect blend of sweet and salty, and I was already craving more.

  Kissing my way to her shoulder, I pushed the strap of her dress down her arm then bit into the flesh where neck met shoulder. The whimper that left her made my cock throb against her hip.

  Fuck, I wanted her. My body had been one huge ache for weeks now, desperate to feel her against me again.

  “Adrian,” she breathed my name, catching my blood on fire as I snaked my arm around her waist, anchoring her against me.

  “I have missed you, kotyonok.” My voice was like gravel at my confession, but I didn’t care. I wanted her to know how much she affected me. Wanted her to understand that what I felt for her wasn’t sensible, yet it felt right when nothing in my life ever had before. “I refuse to spend another day without you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” she whispered, pressing her body back against mine welcomingly. “But … this isn’t right. You’re married.”

  I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead to the back of hers, letting her hair hide my face. “Married in the eyes of the law, but not married in my heart. Klara means nothing to me. She never has. I’ve told you that.”

  She tensed before she pulled away, and I let her go, knowing she wouldn’t get far.

  Her lovely face was pinched with pain when she turned to face me. “Yes, you’ve told me that, but you haven’t told me anything else. If you’re not married to her in your heart, then why not divorce her?”

  “I am.”

  Her eyes widened, her lips falling open in a small O, yet doubt darkened her brown eyes.

  “My lawyers already have the divorce papers drawn up. I’m just waiting on her to sign them, and then I’ll be a free man, kotyonok.”

  “Really?”

  I cupped her face with both hands and brushed my lips over her forehead. “Really.”

  She melted into me, though doubt was still clear on her face.

  “I … I need you to tell me about her. About your relationship.”

  “Klara was my
brother’s girlfriend,” I told her, opening up for the first time in my life, ready to spill any and every secret I had if it meant I got to keep her forever.

  Her face scrunched up in confusion. “I didn’t realize you have a brother.”

  I caught her hands and pulled her close for a kiss, needing to taste her again. She pulled them free and tried to push against my chest, but when I licked her bottom lip, she twisted her fingers in the material of my shirt, seeming to pull me closer instead of pushing me away. Only when I knew she was submitting to me did I lift my head.

  Touching my lips to her forehead, I just held her for a long moment, needing her closeness to steady myself before I told her about my brother. I never talked about Taras, not even to Anya. It was too hard for either of us to remember the brother who had been taken from us too soon.

  “Taras was younger than me by only a year. We were closer than any two brothers who walked the earth. Closer than even you are to your sister.” I kissed her forehead again, welcoming her touch when she wrapped her arms around my waist, as if she knew I needed her comfort. “He was a good man, a better man than me, kotyonok.”

  “You keep saying was,” she murmured, lifting her head to meet my eyes. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  I nodded, and tears filled her eyes.

  I caught one with my thumb, fascinated that her heart was so big she could cry for a man she had never known. But my kotyonok was special. She loved with her whole heart.

  “While I was in prison, he took over for me, even though I told him to stay out of it. I would have rather had Anya take it over. She is just as hard as I am, just as ruthless. Not like Taras. He was everything good in this world. But we are a brotherhood, and even though she has respect, she is not a man. Not many would have followed her willingly.” I stopped, my jaw tensing as emotions threatened to boil over.

  “He didn’t listen?” she asked, encouraging me to go on.

  I blew out a harsh breath. “No. He might have been the good one, but he was just as stubborn as me. He took on the majority of my business dealings while I was inside. He did a good job when it came to handling the money, but when it came to enforcing the rules, he couldn’t always follow through. People take advantage of that. They took advantage of him.”

  “I know how people are,” she murmured, a hint of steel in her voice. As Vito Vitucci’s daughter, I knew she had to have learned some hard lessons about how people really could be at an early age. “I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s life.” I gave her a grim smile. I still had to tell her about my wife. “Klara was pregnant with Theo when Taras died and I was still inside. I didn’t even know her, had never met her, but she was carrying my nephew. She made threats to end the pregnancy. I couldn’t lose the last connection I had to my brother if she aborted the baby. I knew the only way I could protect the boy was to give him my name.”

  Her body seemed to jerk, as if she had been struck by one of the lightning bolts flashing outside the window. “Theo isn’t your son?”

  I watched her face closely, saw the way her throat was working.

  “My name is listed on his birth certificate, but he’s biologically my nephew.”

  More tears filled her eyes, but she held them at bay. She stood there, just staring up at me, not saying a word for long moments. I couldn’t read her reaction, couldn’t read her, so I had no way of knowing what was going on in her beautiful head at my confession.

  “I’m tired,” she finally said after nearly two full minutes had passed.

  I crossed to the bed and pulled back the covers for her. When I turned and found her still just standing there, I went back to her. Her eyes were glued to me, following my every step as I approached, but I still couldn’t read her. It was like she had flipped a switch and had turned everything off.

  Bending, I swung her up into my arms and carried her over to our bed. She was still in her dress, but it was easy enough to pull over her head with it now unzipped.

  As each inch of her was exposed to my hungry eyes, I forgot about my brother and everyone else.

  Her panties matched her bra, both of them a soft, sheer blue that left nothing to the imagination. I could see the dampness on her pussy that begged me to make a feast of her. Her nipples were hard as they pressed against the soft material of her bra.

  When the dress was finally over her head, she stood there, proud and confident in her beauty. She rubbed her legs together, as if she was trying to assuage the ache between them.

  My hands shook as I lifted them to brush her hair over her shoulders. “Do you want to wear the shirt?” My voice wasn’t my own, sounding like some wild beast that was fighting his dark side. Right then, that was exactly what I was. A beast hungry for his mate, ready to do anything to have just a taste of her.

  But this was her choice. She held all the power right now. If she chose to wear the shirt, then I would respect her wishes and only hold her.

  If she didn’t, then I knew she wanted something more, and there wasn’t a force on this planet or any other that could have stopped me from touching her.

  Reaching behind her, Victoria unfastened her bra and let it fall to the floor.

  My cock was trying to break through my zipper as I watched her turn, dressed in only her sheer panties now, and climb into bed. She moved into the center and pulled the covers up to her waist, then lifted her gaze to mine.

  “Come to bed, Adrian.”

  Chapter 23

  Victoria

  I didn’t know if I believed Adrian when he had said he was getting a divorce. He had given me no reason to believe anything he said when it came to his wife. But after what he had said about his brother and Theo, I wanted to believe him.

  I silenced the voice in the back of my head that kept shouting at me to not do this and looked up at the man I wanted to be all mine. “Come to bed, Adrian.”

  With his eyes glued to mine, he undressed then climbed into bed beside me. He was reaching for me before his back even touched the mattress, pulling me down with him as his lips found mine.

  Yes, I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t give a fuck right then. I was tired of wanting yet not having, tired of fighting what I felt.

  He was mine, and we both knew that I was his. There was no use in fighting it any more. I didn’t care what people would say. Didn’t care that my father was going to blow a gasket when he found out. Nothing mattered but the feel of his mouth on me, his hands touching every inch of my skin, and finding a relief to the throbbing need that was burning me alive.

  Adrian sucked my bottom lip between his teeth then broke the kiss, only to lick his way down my neck and bite into my shoulder. My head fell back onto the pillows, giving him access to my entire body.

  With one hand, he cupped my breast, squeezing and massaging, pinching the hardened nipple and making me whimper with the pleasure. His lips went from my shoulder, kissing a trail to my collarbone, and then down to the breast he was playing with. Hungrily, he sucked my nipple, pressing it against the roof of his mouth and forcing more needy noises from my throat. I melted into the bed, my legs spreading willingly, invitingly.

  Without lifting his head, he moved his hand lower, leaving a trail of goosebumps on my skin along the way. Dipping into my panties, he then spread my pussy lips with his middle finger, rubbing over my clit and sending little electric currents shooting throughout my entire body.

  I could feel his hunger shaking through his body, but he was taking his time, touching me with tender strokes, teasing me until I knew I was going to go mad with how much I wanted him inside me.

  He moved his mouth from one breast to the other, sucking my nipple so carefully that I thought I was going to cry from how good it felt. He teased his thumb over my clit, barely putting any pressure on it as he rubbed a figure eight over it.

  I couldn’t keep my hands still, rubbing them over his back, biting my fingers into his flesh, trying to urge him to suck on me harder, to t
ouch me rougher.

  “Adrian, please,” I cried when he only continued to torture me with his careful lovemaking. “I need … more.”

  “Shh …” he said against my flesh. “Let me make this good for you. Let me worship you.”

  “It is good,” I whimpered as he pushed his middle finger into me up to the first knuckle. “It’s so good it’s killing me. Touch me like you can’t get enough of me,” I begged. “Touch me like you’ll die if you don’t.”

  He lifted his head and looked down at me through heavy, ravenous eyes. “Trust me, my love. That is exactly how I’m touching you right now. This is what I’ve dreamed of doing from the first moment I set eyes on you. Don’t rush me, kotyonok.”

  I swallowed hard and lifted up onto my elbows. “Then let me touch you, too. Let me …” I didn’t know what I wanted him to let me do. Other than what little lovemaking we had experienced, that was the limit to my knowledge of how to give him the same pleasure he was giving me. Despite that, I was a quick learner and knew I could find all the ways that made him beg for more.

  Adrian covered my mouth with his own, silencing me. While he kept me distracted with his lips, he caught both of my hands in one of his and lifted them above my head.

  “We have a lifetime for that. For now, just enjoy.”

  Releasing my hands, he moved down my body, tugging my panties down my thighs and making quick work of getting rid of them. Then he opened his mouth over my pussy, and I couldn’t think, only feel.

  He pressed his tongue over my slit and licked up to my clit before circling it with the tip then going back to my entrance. He dipped his tongue inside, tasting my innocence. My hands fisted in the covers on either side of me, my hips lifting in search of a deeper penetration.

  He growled greedily against my clit, sending little shock waves shooting through my stomach. It felt so good, and I couldn’t catch my breath.

  He then pushed my legs open wider so he could delve his tongue deeper. He kissed my pussy with deep, open-mouthed kisses, thrusting his tongue deeply. He made a growling sound each time more of my need would flood into his mouth.

 

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