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6. The Devil's Wife Wears Lace
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2025-04-29 16:30:31
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Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King 63. The Drive
The second I step back into Hale’s room, I move as fast as my stiff legs are willing to carry me.My entire body aches from training with Sable, and my back still throbs where she slammed me into the wall. I can still feel the heat of her breath on my face when she leaned in, promising that next time she won’t stay professional.The nerve of that woman.It won’t surprise me if it comes to light that Sable has a thing for Hale. Or maybe there is history between them—or something like that.I toss my boots off and walk straight to the wardrobe, flinging it open and grabbing the first two hangers I see. A navy-blue dress with gold detail. A plain cream-colored blouse.I carry them to the door, hook them onto the inside handle like I did the last time, and adjust them until the metal hangers touch—just slightly.I test the door once to make sure I’ve placed them right.Then again.Each time, the steel clicks together with that soft, familiar chime. Perfect.I step back, crossing my arms.
Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King 62. Sharp Lines
By the time morning rolls around, my body is sore in places I forgot existed.We had sex—again.Twice more after the first time. And I let it happen. I gave into the distraction, let him touch me, kiss me, use me—because for a few hours, I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to remember my father’s voice in my ear, swearing Hale murdered my mother.I needed to shut it out.So I took the only escape available to me—Hale’s hands. His body. My god—his lips. In the moment it felt like I was in heaven. A deep bliss that made your brain shut down completely. It was what I wanted.Now I regret it. Not because I didn’t enjoy it, but because of what it says about me.What it means.I chew on that as I pull on the fresh clothes left out for me—black leggings and a fitted top—and lace my boots tight enough to cut off circulation. My arms are already aching as I head to the training wing.Sable is waiting for me.She doesn’t speak when I walk in. Just tilts her head and gestures for me to take my
Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King 61. Claimed
Hale’s pov.She stands in front of the vanity, fingers closing around a hair brush resting on the vanity across from our bed. Her posture is relaxed, either unaware or unbothered by the way I’m watching her from the bed. She drags the bristles through her hair in smooth, unhurried strokes, her back turned to me, seemingly lost in thought.She’s wearing my sweater.And not just any sweater—my oldest one, the one with the threadbare sleeves and stretched-out collar. It hangs low over her ass, barely covering her almost see-through tights, and every time she shifts, the hem rides up just enough to make me want to sink my teeth into the back of her leg.My cock twitches under the sheets, already getting hard.There’s something about seeing her like this, wearing something of mine like it belongs to her. She’s not just here. She’s settled. Comfortably. In my clothes, in my room, in my fucking head. And now, even the way she brushes her hair feels personal.I push up from the mattress.She
Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King 60. The Lie Between Us
Hale doesn’t show for dinner.I sit alone at the long, polished table. A single place setting gleams under the chandelier, like a spotlight meant to mock me. The silverware’s too shiny—the linen napkin’s folded with such neatness, you wouldn’t expect it in the home of the notorious Hellbringer—but at the table of the British royalty instead.I don’t speak to anyone, and no one speaks to me. A small blessing, if anything.I eat in silence. Fast. Each bite is mechanical, tasteless, my jaw working only because I force it to. My throat is tight, but I make myself swallow. Every chew feels like a countdown. I want it over. I need it over.I drain the water in my glass, wiping my mouth and rising in one fast motion—so fast I nearly knock over a pot plant behind me in the process.I make sure no one’s watching me, then leave the dining room and take the stairs—two at a time. I slow at the hallway’s end and glance out the massive window. The sky’s tinted orange and purple, fading into night.
Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King 59. The Daisy
Cali’s POV.Hale’s phone buzzes just after we step out of the tub.He doesn’t look at me. He just stands there for a second, dripping wet, his hand clenching around the edge of the vanity. Then he answers.His tone shifts to slight annoyance, but I can tell he’s putting in effort to sound calm and aware—enough so to make it clear that whatever is being said on the other end matters. I can’t hear the voice, only that it’s male, speaking in a rushed manner.He cuts the call after a few curt replies.By the time we’re both dressed, he surprises me once again, by wrapping his arms around me in a tight embrace, then follows it with a kiss.His hand cradles the side of my face as his mouth finds mine, softer this time. Slower. There’s something behind it that doesn’t feel like forceful or remotely sexual—like the way he kissed me earlier.No, this time it’s gentle and almost caring.Then he leaves, without so much as an explanation.I stare at the closed door for a while, then turn back to
Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King 58. A Shift In The Air
The third time nearly knocked us both out.Cali’s draped across my chest, limbs tangled with mine, her breath still uneven as it ghosts along my skin. Her body is flushed, damp with sweat, her hair plastered to her temple. My cock’s finally softened, but the memory of every sound she made—every clench of her body, every cry that escaped her lips—is burned into my mind with no chance of fading.I don’t want to move.But she stirred a moment ago, mumbling something about food.I grab the phone on the nightstand, dial the butler directly, and tell him exactly what I want. No multi-course meal, anything exotic—nor expensive. Just something basic—something I have a feeling Cali would enjoy right now.“Two pizzas,” I order. “Meat-heavy. Add chocolate mousse on the side.”I hang up before he replies.Cali hasn’t moved much. She’s still draped over me like she’s not planning to go anywhere anytime soon. I watch the steady rise and fall of her back, the lazy curve of her ass against my thigh,
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