Hitman's Promise: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

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Hitman's Promise: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Page 25

by Naomi West


  I turn my grin into the pillow and peek over at Dare. I would scream, laugh, shout for joy, if he wasn’t sleeping. I lift my head a tiny bit to really gaze at him.

  Good lord, this man is built. Sleeping naked, face down, one arm thrown up over the pillow, I look him over, admiring what last night had been mine for the taking. His back is all muscular planes and valleys, the early morning light pooling and shadowing over him. My mouth waters as my eyes travel down the length of his legs to his enormous feet. His perfect ass.

  And his tattoos. I’d trace them if I wasn’t worried it would wake him up. That had been a surprise. You can’t see a single one of them when he’s buttoned up in his dress shirt and slacks. I never imagined he would have any. But they tangle and trace all down his back and arms. There are large, colorful birds, dancing around one another and bursting into flames over one shoulder. The phases of the moon trailing after one another. There’s a sailor’s anchor. The outline of a country. A coat of arms. And a woman’s name. Small, but there. A twisting cursive over his back left ribs. Mary.

  I tear my eyes away from it and try not to let it sour my mood at all. I just need a second to myself. I slide from bed and head into the bathroom. I quickly brush my teeth and wash my face, running my fingers through my hair.

  I barely recognize myself in the mirror. There are love bites littering my body. Across my chest, under my arm, on my neck. I look down with a little thrill and realize there’s one on the inside of each of my thighs. Elsewhere, my skin is glowing. My eyes are sleepy still, but deep with the residual arousal of last night. My hair is tousled around my shoulders and my nipples pull tight in the chilly bathroom air.

  I need to either get some clothes on and make breakfast or I need to get back in bed. But as I emerge from the bathroom and take one look at the gorgeous specimen of man taking up the majority of the bed I know there’s no question of what I’ll be doing.

  As soon as I lift the sheet to slide back into bed, one huge paw comes around my hips and drags me to him. I hide my smile in his shoulder and he growls without opening his eyes.

  “No getting up,” he says, and pulls me even tighter to him. His hot erection pushes into my hip. I press into him a little.

  “It’s almost morning,” I say and run one hand over his back.

  “No morning,” he growls, “not real.”

  “What’re you smiling about? I can feel it on my shoulder.”

  “Nothing,” I say innocently. “I just think it’s cute that you’re grumpy in the mornings.”

  “I’m grumpy all the time,” he growls and moves his head from laying on the pillow to laying on my breasts. He rubs his face a little back and forth for good measure, his five o clock shadow scrapes across my sensitive skin and makes me gasp a little.

  Somehow, he’s adjusted us so I’m on his back with his belly pressing into my pussy, my legs clasping around his back. One of his hands comes up and tangles in my hair. The other hand slides underneath me and grabs a handful of my ass. His breath starts to even out a little and I wonder if he’s falling back asleep.

  “You weren’t grumpy last night,” I say, rubbing one hand down his back.

  He grunts and it’s almost a chuckle. “No, I most definitely was not grumpy last night.”

  “What, um, would you say that you were, then?” I ask, hating the insecurity in my voice, but I think the morning after she loses her virginity, a girl is entitled to a little reassurance.

  He lifts his head and I see his eyes for the first time that morning. They are sleepy and dark and young. He looks rested and carefree and satisfied, hardly the man who days ago had bags under his eyes and looked like a sleep-ridden soldier. I’ve never seen such a sweet expression on his face before and it literally takes my breath away.

  “Are you asking how it was for me, gorgeous?”

  I bite my lip and nod, noting the way his eyes instantly drop to my lip. He leans up and takes it in between his own teeth. His tongue laves gently over it and a flood of wetness has me pressing into him. He grunts slightly and releases my lip.

  “You have no idea what it feels like to want to suck on that lip and then get to suck on that lip. I’ve been denying myself for way too long.” He reaches up and pushes a strand of hair back from my forehead. “The answer to your question is that I wasn’t grumpy last night, Alessia. I was more turned on than I thought it was humanly possible to be. I was so wildly amazed at your sexuality, your full-bodied presence in a moment. I was so grateful to be touching you, tasting you, fucking you. Fucking you was like fucking a goddess of sex. Part of me is waiting to wake up. It’s like I can barely believe it happened.”

  The breath leaves my lungs in one huge puff. “I can barely believe it happened either,” I whisper.

  Dare comes up on his elbows over me, aligning my core with his heavy, straining cock. “In a good way?” he asks and I can see the concern on his face. “I know the first time can be a big deal for some people.”

  I tighten my legs around his waist and try to bring him closer to me. I want him inside me again. “In the best way. I’ve never felt like that before. Beautiful. Sexy. And pretty much continually coming for like an hour.”

  He grins and the smile catches me off guard. It’s like a younger version of himself is suddenly peeking out at me. “You come so pretty,” he says and nudges himself forward a tiny bit, the bottom of his cock slides over my clit and I gasp and tense a little.

  “What?”

  “I said, you come so pretty.” He lowers his mouth to the crook of my neck and licks a path along my collar bone. “Your hair spreads all out and your breasts stand right up.”

  I squirm against his words, slightly embarrassed at what he’s describing. I’ve never really thought about what I look like when I come.

  “Tell me,” I urge.

  “Your back comes up off the bed and you squeeze me so tight. Like I’m never quite close enough.” He strokes himself across my clit again and lifts his head. Smiling again, he brushes his fingers over my cheekbones. “You’re blushing. Am I embarrassing you?”

  I squirm again. “I- It’s just new to me.”

  The smile drops off Dare’s face. “Coming is new to you?”

  I put a hand over my eyes and shade myself from his laser-like stare. “Not completely new. But I came more last night than I pretty much have in my entire life.”

  Dare tugs my hand down from my face and I can see he’s completely serious again. “That’s a crime, Alessia. You were made to come. Coming was invented so that you could do it.”

  That one makes me laugh and it makes his cock stroke across my clit again. I lift my hips into him, but he won’t be distracted.

  “You never touch yourself?”

  His head cocks to one side and he strokes a hand over the side of my face like he’s reassuring me that he’s not teasing me.

  I hesitate but, shrugging, I realize there’s no reason to hold back from him. I’ve sat on his face for fuck sakes. “No, not really. I was never comfortable enough. There were always so many people around in my dad’s house. So many bodyguards always following me and standing outside my door. I don’t know. I just never felt like I was really alone.”

  A light clicks off in Dare’s eyes and he drops his head to my shoulder. “Not much has changed, huh?”

  I tug at his hair and bring him back up to face me. “Dare, this is completely different!”

  “How?”

  My hands fall back to the bed and tangle in my hair as I search for the words. “You see me. You don’t look right through me or assume that you know what I’ll do or say because of the way I look or because I’m Patrizzio’s daughter. You look harder. You see me,” I repeat.

  His eyes blaze into mine and I’m trapped in them. Pinned underneath him and pinned in his gaze.

  “Yes,” he says and thrusts forward. “I do.”

  He reaches over to the night stand and grabs a condom. Ripping it open and sheathing himself in the blink of
an eye.

  “And now I want you to see yourself,” he commands and rears back on his knees.

  “What?” I ask, unsure of what he means. But he doesn’t answer. With one effortless motion, he flips me over and brings me up onto all fours in front of him. I’ve never been exposed like this before and it’s equal parts arousing and intimidating.

  He reaches forward and puts one hand on my chin, tilting my head to one side. He gestures toward the bathroom. I had left the door open from earlier and from this angle we can see ourselves reflected in the bathroom mirror.

  He’s towering behind me, cut and tattooed, one hand resting on my lower back and the other on his cock. My hair waterfalls over one side of my head, tumbling to the bed. My nipples are pebbled and my ass is in the air, angled up and begging for him.

  My mouth comes open as I take in the erotic scene. It’s so forbidden, so unlike anything I’ve ever done before. One of his hands comes down between us. It finds me, burning and aching for him. He presses his fingers inside me and I find I’m tender from last night, but I like it nonetheless. It feels raw and animalistic and primal. I naturally push back on his hand, and watch as the woman in the mirror does, too. The sight forces a rush of wetness inch down my legs.

  Dare grins a feral grin and presses another finger inside of me. “You like this, huh? Watching me finger fuck you from the back?”

  I nod distractedly and lick my lips. I can’t take my eyes or my mind from the sight in the mirror. Suddenly, Dare pulls his fingers from me and aligns himself with my core. I’m watching in the mirror, so I know he’s about to do it, but even so, I’m not prepared for the feeling of his broad head spreading me wide.

  “Wanna lose your virginity again, gorgeous?” he says, grinning at me in the mirror.

  I laugh and feel my body relax around him as he pushes inside. He goes slowly but doesn’t stop until he’s seated all the way inside me. The front of his legs pressing against the back of mine.

  “Jesus,” he mutters and clamps his hands on my hips. His face is tight with desire for me. He lets me get acclimated to his size in this new position for a moment, but then he draws out almost to the tip and pushes back in. My back arches and my mouth drops open as I take him.

  I push back again, trying to take him even deeper and he grunts, thrusting forward. His hands grip my hips and he really starts to pound into me, mounting me from behind.

  I moan as I watch my breasts jiggle and bounce with the force of his thrusts, my small, delicate body dwarfed by his muscular one.

  “Oh God. Dare. God,” I clench the sheets in my hands and slam my eyes closed when the sensations start to overwhelm me. All I can do is take his manhood in me as I race toward ecstasy.

  My eyes pop open again when one of his hands drops to my clit and he starts rubbing circles around the sensitive nub.

  I throw my head back and arch my back, torn between thrusting back on his cock and pushing down on his hand.

  “Watch, gorgeous,” he commands and I turn to look at us in the mirror.

  His hips piston into me and I get glimpses of his cock disappearing into me and reappearing, shiny with my arousal for him. His hand works against my clit and I’m arching toward an orgasm. My eyes cloudy and unseeing, my hair everywhere, my hands fisted in the sheets and I moan his name like a prayer as everything in me comes apart.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dare

  “See,” I say as I roll off of her and tie off the condom, “you come so pretty.”

  She lays in an inert pile on the bed and hasn’t moved by the time I come back from tossing the condom in the trash. I gather her close and nuzzle her.

  “Well, whatever it is, it’s hot,” she says and tilts her head to one side, letting me get at her neck.

  A feeling rises up through me like bubbles in a champagne glass. I let out a breath and drag a hand over her bare back. Briefly grab a handful of her ass and nip at her shoulder. She lifts her head and smiles a shy little smile that cuts right through me.

  What is it about her that speaks to me so deeply? It’s more than the physical. Her hair and eyes and silhouette. Sure. They would call to any man. But it’s the little ways she draws back the curtain for me. The little examples of shyness. The sweet little questions. When she loses her cool and stomps her foot. Her eyes snapping and her voice biting. I'm into all of it. Anything that isn't the act she puts on for her father. Like she's dumb and frigid. That's the Alessia her father knows.

  And it couldn't be further from the truth.

  "Breakfast?" she asks, and for some reason there's a small fear in her voice.

  I glance at the clock. "Sounds great."

  "I assume I'll be making it?" she asks in a dry voice.

  I stretch and reach over to give her a little spank. "I make a mean bowl of cereal."

  She smiles and stretches and tosses her legs over the side of the bed. "Yeah, I've seen how soggy you let your cereal get. I won't subject myself to that."

  "For the record, Rice Crispies are better that way," I say as I watch her slide on a blue silk robe and slippers and tie her hair up in a knot. The champagne feeling starts happening again.

  "Omelet with tomatoes, onions, feta, mushrooms, and spinach. Hash browns, fruit salad, coffee and orange juice," she says like she's throwing down her trump card.

  I hold up my hands in surrender. "You win. We can have soggy cereal tomorrow." She turns on her heel to go get breakfast started but I'm out of bed like a shot. "Not without me," I bark and slam my hand on the door. Her eyes go wide as she jumps back from the door.

  I don't mean to make her jump. I don't mean to yell at her. But she can't just go gallivanting around the house right now. "Alessia, I haven't done any security checks in the last ten hours. Greco himself could be sitting on that couch and we wouldn't know,” I remind her.

  She quails and pulls her robe tighter around herself. "I didn't realize you had such an active involvement at night."

  I slide my pants on quickly and ignore the expression in her eyes. Something is shuttering, closing me out suddenly. The air in the room gets colder, tighter. The open warmth of last night and this morning is frosting over so quickly and I have no way to stop it. I won’t lie to her. Not about who I am or what my priorities are. She’s going to have to get used to my role in her life both as her security and as her… what? Boyfriend? Lover? All of it seems inadequate after what happened last night. All I know is that we’re both going to have to be patient while we figure out how to walk the line we so zealously crossed last night.

  "I monitor everything. All the time. This room is the safest. Almost impenetrable. Which is why I pretty much only sleep when you're locked in here."

  Understanding dawns in her beautiful eyes. I continue on, needing her to understand and needing her to stop looking at me the way she used to. "All the other monitoring equipment is in my room. Where I'm supposed to be. If any sensors have been tripped, I can't tell from here."

  "Right," she says dully, "where you're supposed to be."

  I'm not sure what to say to that, so I just watch her. She whispers something to herself. It sounds like the word iceberg.

  She steps away from the door and goes to sit on the bed. "I'll wait here," she says.

  I want to go to her. Take her face in my hands and explain what keeping her safe actually means to me. But her face is drawn and impenetrable. Her arms are crossed over her chest. She’s protecting herself from me. From what I stand for.

  I decide to take things one step at a time. First things first, I need to make sure she’s safe. I go back to my jacket that I’d tossed off last night and grab my gun belt out of it. I hear her sharp intake of breath behind me and I realize that she probably had no idea I was even wearing it. I had intentionally tried to slip it off without her noticing, worried it would kill the mood between us.

  I ignore her reaction and pull my crumpled undershirt on over my head, quickly strapping the gun to my side. I don’t honestly think that o
ur security has been breached, but protecting myself and my charge is deeply ingrained in who I am. The instinct is as much a part of me as my arms and legs.

  I don’t say anything as I open the door and slide out, flipping the lock as I go so that she’s locked in. I do a quick and efficient sweep of each room, but nothing is out of the ordinary. Lastly, I head to my own room and check the security software on my computer. Nothing has been tripped or alerted. All good. No disturbances. I check the log history of each one of the sensors and check that everything is functioning properly. I designed this system myself and know it inside and out. The automatic timers turned all the appropriate sensors and alarms on, even if I was too busy fucking my brains out to think of it.

 

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