Craving The Mafia's Touch.
She scratched, bit, teased, and I claimed, dominated, pressed, and made her mine even as the enemy vibe between us pulsed like a living thing.
Finally, after endless, torturous intensity, I found release, and her hands clutched me, pulling me close as if to anchor me to her, whispering against my ear, “This… this is only the beginning, Dante. Never forget… enemies or not, I own a piece of you now.”
I lay there, chest heaving, sweat-slicked, arrogant, alive, and infuriated, because she didn’t explain, because she refused being honest about pulling the trigger, and because she had me exactly where she wanted me...lust, hate, desire tangled into one impossible woman.
Bab Populer