Mafia Prince (Royal Mafia Book 2)

by Bella J.

  “I can’t. I can’t tell you.”

  “Why? Why can’t you tell me?”

  I pushed him away from me, hating how good it felt to be in his arms. It shouldn’t be that way. It shouldn’t feel good, because loving him would make me lose the biggest part of me in the end.

  Harshly, I wiped at the tears on my face. “I fucked up, Dante. Because of me, everyone I love is at risk. I’m the weakest fucking link. Can’t you see that?”

  “Layla, how the fuck am I supposed to see or understand anything when you tell me nothing? It’s like solving a fucking Rumpelstiltskin riddle, for Christ’s sake.”

  “I can’t…I can’t do this. I have to leave.”

  I grabbed my dirty clothes off the floor when Dante grabbed me around my waist. “You are not going anywhere.”

  “Let me go!” I kicked and screamed, my desperation to save him and my craving to poison myself taking control of every emotion, every action. “Let me go, Dante!”

  I continued to fight, thrashing fists and legs and feet against him until he managed to toss me on the bed. Like a wild animal, I tried to scamper away, but he grabbed my ankle and pulled me while turning me on my back.

  I was no match for his strength as he pinned my arms above my head and straddled me. “I told you, you’re going fucking nowhere.”

  “I don’t want to be here with you. I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can!” His voice roared through the room, the echo slamming against the plastered walls.

  “How can you want me here after what I did to you? Why don’t you hate me?”

  “I don’t fucking know!”

  Immediately, I stopped fighting him, our eyes fixed on one another.

  “I don’t know, Layla.” He tightened his grip around my wrists. “Yes, you hurt me. Yes, you ripped my motherfucking heart out. Yes, I’ve never been the same since you left. And yes, I probably should hate you. I should fucking hate you…but I don’t.” He breathed out. “I wish I did. I wish I did hate you because it would have made everything so much easier. But I fucking don’t.” He shifted, his firm thighs keeping me in place. “I don’t hate you, Layla. Goddammit! If anything, I still love you.”

  My heart stopped beating. My blood stilled inside my veins. All I heard were his words, his deep breathing. And all I felt was the familiar crackle of electricity around us, the sexually-laden atmosphere that always surrounded us, replacing all the oxygen.

  “I still fucking love you.” His grip loosened slightly, his dark gaze never leaving mine. “I still love you, Layla Moore.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was like my mind couldn’t make sense of it, so I made a last lame-ass attempt to fight his hold. But he only kept me in place, his chest rapidly rising and falling while his face leaned down closer to mine. “I. Love. You.”

  And then the veil of resistance finally tore in two as I lost the last ounce of self-control I had left. I pushed myself up as far as I could, and he met me halfway, our lips crashing together like two dark clouds of thunder. Within a split second we were all hands, and lips, and kisses, and moans. We wanted to devour each other in a single moment, leaving nothing untouched, unexplored. I surrendered fully. He consumed me completely. And we ravished each other wholly…just like it had always been.

  Two strong hands palmed my breasts, earning a loud moan from my lips as my body burned from his touch. He squeezed and tugged my nipples, causing me to arch my back, wanting to feel him against me. I needed his heat to thaw the ice that had occupied my heart for so long.

  “Tell me this is okay, Layla.” Hard, heady kisses fell from his lips onto the skin of my neck. “Tell me you’re still mine to touch, to kiss.”

  My body was nothing but sensation and desire as I wrapped my arms around him, weaving my fingers through his ink black hair. I was transported back in time, reliving all the moments we shared together—moments like this.

  With both hands, he pressed my breasts together, his tongue slipping down and licking through the slit of flesh.

  “Dante—”

  “I need to hear you say you’re still mine. Tell me you’re still mine to make love to.” He looked up at me. “Tell me you’re still mine to fuck.” He took a hard nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it, sucking, lapping, and kissing. “I remember every moment, Layla. I remember how you loved being cherished, worshipped. How you desired to be thoroughly fucked, and utterly used.”

  “Fuck, Dante,” I whispered, his words causing a frenzy of lust and need crashing against every corner of my body. I bucked my hips in search of him, the ache between my legs growing stronger with every stroke of his tongue and every touch of his hand. His lips let go of my nipple with a pop, and when he looked back up at me, his hand slipped in between us. “Say it, Layla.” And then he touched me, his fingers sliding through the sensitive folds of my pussy, sending the most intense wave of lust up my spine, my entire body electrified.

  “Jesus, Layla,” he moaned. “Your body is begging to be fucked.”

  “Dante…” I started to plead.

  “Say it first. Tell me you’re mine.”

  Deep down, I knew I never stopped being his in the first place. Not a day went by that I didn’t think of him, of us, of how my heart still belonged to him. It was the worst kind of torture knowing he was out there in the world, building a life without me.

  “Say it, Layla.”

  “I’m yours.” The words escaped my lips with a breath. “I’m yours, Dante. I’ve always been yours.”

  A finger slipped inside me, and I moved my hips, wanting it deeper, harder. His thumb moved over my clit, and I gasped as pleasure spread through me like wildfire.

  “I’ll make love to you until you come.” He pushed his finger inside me again. “And then I’m going to fuck you until I do.”

  I dug my nails into the skin of his back. There was nothing I wanted more at that moment. I forced aside every thought, every inhibition that would keep me from surrendering. Truth was, all I wanted to do was surrender my everything to the man I had always loved. I wanted him so badly, it hurt. My insides were coiled tight with anticipation, my body primed for seduction and pleasure. All I wanted, all I needed…was him.

  I moaned when his finger slipped out of me, only to softly move down my thigh, hooking his hand under my knee to jerk my leg up, spreading me wide open for him to see.

  “Don’t move.”

  He got up, and I watched with untainted desire as he removed his clothes. He was much bigger than I remembered. There were tattoos inked across his skin, barbed wire wrapping around muscular arms, a huge tribal circle inked over the place where his heart was.

  Ripped abs were roped across his abdomen, the V that disappeared beneath his pants more prominent than when we were first together. Just looking at him had me writhing on the sheets, needing him on top of me, and inside me.

  He dropped his pants to the floor, standing naked in front of me, his hard cock demanding my attention, causing everything inside me to tighten.

  “Right here, right now, there’s no one but me and you.” He eased onto the bed. “Right here, right now, it’s only us and our desire for each other.” His gaze moved across my naked body, pausing between my legs. “Right here, right now, all I’m going to do is reclaim what’s rightfully mine. You, your body…your pussy.”

  I couldn’t speak. My mind was a jumbled mess of naked bodies, ecstasy, and pleasure. All I could do was watch him, look at him while he crouched and dragged his tongue all the way up my inner thigh until…fuck me…his tongue glided over my outer lips. I grabbed the sheets in my fists and moaned, struggling to contain the pleasure, struggling to stay in control.

  “God, I missed this. I missed tasting you on my tongue.” With his fingers, he spread my lips open, the tip of his tongue teasing my clit until my body started to shudder. The pleasure it shot all the way through my body was so intense, it was almost painful.

  “Don’t come. Not yet,” he ordere
d before dragging his tongue all the way from my clit down to my opening and back up again. “I want you to come around my cock, but I need to get my fill of your taste first.”

  “Dante, please.”

  “Shhhh.” The sound vibrated against my sensitive flesh, and I squirmed, feeling as if the pleasure had the strength to break me in half. He didn’t speed up. He didn’t lick or suck any harder. It was like he savored my taste, dragging out every second of it by slowly driving me insane with his lips and tongue.

  “If you don’t put your cock inside me right now, I’ll be coming on your tongue.”

  A low, guttural moan came from the back of his throat. “God, I missed that dirty mouth of yours.”

  As he moved up, he wrapped his hand around my knee, bringing it up with him, pressing it between us.

  I felt the head of his cock nudge against my entrance, my eyes fluttering closed as my body braced itself, waiting to be filled.

  Dante stilled. “Don’t you dare close your eyes, Layla. I want you to look at me as I claim you. I want you to see me when I possess every part of your body.”

  And then he pushed forward, entering me with one slow, deep thrust.

  “Oh, God,” I cried, my back arching off the bed.

  Slowly, he pulled out again, before sinking back in. “Jesus. How is it possible that you feel even better than I remember?”

  My nails raked down his back, and I closed my eyes only for a second.

  “I told you to look at me,” he demanded and thrust forward, the head of his cock reaching the deepest part of me. The more he moved inside me, allowing me to feel every inch of him sliding against my inner walls, the more my body squirmed in its pursuit of sexual delight. Moans slipped from my lips, my mind nothing but scattered thoughts of carnal desire and indulgent sins. With every thrust, Dante reminded me who I belonged to—who owned me. Him. It had always been him.

  I started to pant, struggling to keep my eyes open as I felt the heat of my orgasm pool between my legs. “I’m going to come, Dante.”

  “Then come. Just don’t close your eyes.”

  All it took was one more thrust, one more stroke of his cock inside me, and I broke into a million pieces of undiluted ecstasy. I cried out and my body shuddered, shaking while the climax possessed me. The faster he moved, the more intense it felt as pleasure moved up my spine, crashing against every bone.

  “There’s my girl.” He smiled victoriously as he stared down at me. “I love the way your face flushes whenever you come. The way your eyes show your pleasure.”

  His lips found mine, his tongue sweeping through my mouth as I slowly came down from the high of sexual indulgence. With his kiss, he carried me through it, allowing me to stay in the fog of ecstasy for as long as possible. It was bliss in its purest form, and I wanted to stay in that moment forever.

  Finally, when my body sagged into the mattress, completely spent, he looked down at me, his eyes dark with need, and lips curved in a wicked grin.

  “Now it’s my turn.”

  Chapter 14

  Dante

  The way her mouth formed the perfect fucking O while I buried my cock deep inside her was the most amazing sight. I loved the way her face flushed, her skin all pink and beautiful. Sweat beaded like tiny pearls on her chest, her eyes languid with pleasure. This was what I had been missing all these years. Every time I had seduced and bedded women in search of something that would feed the craving, tame the need, was for naught. Only now, while I stared down at Layla beneath me, her pussy clenching me tight, did I realize it was just her. It had always been her. Only she had the power to fill the emptiness which stemmed so deep in my fucking soul.

  Every kill I had ever made was also an attempt to find what I had been missing. I thought cruelty and cold-heartedness might be the cure, but it wasn’t.

  She was.

  She was my cure. Being without her had been my illness. It disabled me. But now…now I felt whole. I felt complete while I was inside her—one with her.

  Her fingertips lightly scratched the back of my neck, and I smiled. I wasn’t done with her. I gave her what I knew she needed. Now she would give me what I needed.

  I sat up. “Turn around.”

  Her eyes fluttered open, ecstasy brightening the color of her amber irises. Without a word, she turned around, lying flat on her stomach…and then I saw it.

  “Oh, my God, Layla.” I reached out and softly touched the skin between her shoulder blades. Earlier in the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of the tattoo, but only now did I see what it was.

  My fingertips traced the black inked lines. The face of a wolf. An exact replica of the image tattooed on the top of my hand. I placed my palm flat on her back, identical art engraved on my skin. No words could have described the feeling that flooded through my chest—the warmth that spread through my veins.

  “It’s beautiful,” I murmured, still staring at it in awe.

  She glanced over her shoulder but didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. The ink on her skin spoke a thousand goddamn words, but most importantly, it told me this woman was still mine. That she had always been mine. By God, tonight I would reclaim all of her.

  Biting my bottom lip, I allowed my gaze to caress every inch of her body, slowly moving down, admiring the view of her glowing skin and firm ass. My palms itched.

  I slapped her ass, and she yelped, the sound making my cock twitch.

  “I haven’t forgotten.” I rubbed over the red handprint on her skin.

  “What haven’t you forgotten?”

  “How much you loved it when I used you.”

  Her hips bucked, and she pushed her beautiful ass up and out, the pink flesh of her pussy teasing me, taunting me with glistening temptation. She was searching for it. My touch. Something to ease the ache. And I gave it to her as I slipped my fingers through her wet cunt, her cum clinging to her wet lips.

  “I remember how you used to scream for me. How you enjoyed every moment when I unleashed my most carnal desires on your body.”

  “Dante,” she breathed, “you’re going to make me come just by fucking talking.”

  I let out a laugh. “I love how easy it is for me to tempt you, to seduce you into submission.”

  Her hips fell back to the mattress, her body squirming over the sheets.

  “Is that pussy of yours searching for it, Layla?”

  More squirming. “Yes.”

  Softly, I traced my fingertips down her back, across the tattoo, all along her spine while I took my cock in my other hand, squeezing tight. As my hand reached her ass, I slapped again, harder than before. Layla whimpered, and I pumped my cock up and down in my palm. My body was electrified, my most primal instincts stemming from the marrow, possessing me completely.

  I wanted to claim.

  I wanted to dominate.

  I wanted to fuck.

  And it was all because of her. She brought out the man in me, the alpha. She was my vice, my drug of choice—her body my cocaine, her pussy my heroin…her heart my poison.

  “Put your hands behind your back.”

  She obeyed like a good little girl.

  “Now lift that ass of yours.”

  Her hips bucked, and her ass was in the air. Like a fucking offering. Her pussy bloomed, glistening with invitation.

  I sat up and guided the tip of my cock over her ass, then dipped it down the slit of her cunt. We moaned in unison, and I fisted my dick before giving her ass another slap.

  “Tell me there hasn’t been anyone but me.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Can you tell me the same?”

  I stilled, my cock in hand.

  She smiled. “I thought so.”

  And then I smacked her ass hard, causing her to yelp. “That’s what happens when you smart-mouth me.”

  Her hips lowered a little, but I reached out and righted her.

  “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired of letting your pussy blossom for me.”

  “Dante, plea
se.”

  “Unless you’re about to beg me to fuck you, I suggest you put your mouth to better use.”

  I got up from the bed and walked around, still fisting my cock to get some relief from the ache of wanting to be buried balls deep inside her. Her eyes flicked up to mine, and she already knew what I wanted from her. This woman knew me better than God Himself.

  She got on her knees and crawled toward me, licking her lips as if she was starved for what I was about to give her.

  I grabbed her chin in my hand and jerked her head up to me. “You left me.”

  She bit her bottom lip.

  “Do you have any idea how fucked up I was because of it?” I never stopped fisting my cock, her gaze flitting toward the movement every now and then.

  “Apologize.”

  She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Dante.”

  I gripped her hair at the back of her head. “Now put me in your mouth and apologize again.”

  Her lips parted. The second I pushed my cock into her mouth, she moaned, and I felt it all the way down my spine. Her tongue flicked against the tip before she muttered, “I’m sorry, Dante.”

  And then I unleashed the beast, the animal who had been unsated for so fucking long. No other woman stilled the hunger, quenched the thirst for release. And now, as Layla vigorously sucked my cock, the animal in me fucking roared as it finally got what it had wanted all this time.

  In and out, I fucked her mouth, pushing deep, my grip on her hair tightening. The noises that came from her lips as she sucked and licked and lapped were like porn to my ears. She coated my cock with her spit and wrapped her fingers around my shaft, making me moan like a goddamn demon born to flourish in sin.

  Holy, sweet Mother of Christ. I was about to shoot my cum down her fucking throat. But I wasn’t ready for this to be over yet.

  I pulled her head back, her lips letting go of my cock. “Turn around.”

  The second her ass was in front of me, her pussy in full bloom, I plunged deep inside her. She cried out, and I roared the second I felt her heat wrap around me. So slick. So warm. So goddamn tight. I loved feeling her from the inside, filling every inch of her sweet, greedy little cunt.