My adorable mafioso
The lamp’s soft light bathed Svetlana’s skin in a golden glow, making her blonde hair look like a halo of fire against the pillow.
Dante was on the edge of the abyss.
Every fiber of his body demanded surrender, to take her, to mark her as his once and for all. But he wasn’t a man without control. He’d spent his life training himself to master his impulses, never to lose his head, even in the worst situations.
Until now.
Until her.
Svetlana had heard so many things from her friends—stories whispered amid nervous laughter and knowing glances. That it hurt a lot, that one bleeds, that it’s never enjoyable, that it’s traumatic... Words floating in her mind like silent warnings.