10. Mia #2
Maria, on the other hand, is having a harder time embracing her inner actress.
She’s short and much smaller than her husband, but one look at her face makes it clear she’s no pushover.
This woman has a spine of steel, and the smile she manages is much smaller than the one Salvatore gave me.
The hug is as warm as her demeanor, and it lasts all of two seconds before she’s pushing me away and taking a step back.
She hisses something to Dario in fast Italian, and whatever it is it has him putting a protective arm around me and pulling me against the comforting warmth of his strong body while he answers her in an equally low whisper.
I have no idea what they’re saying, but it’s obvious she’s not singing my praises to her son.
Dario lets loose one more gorgeous string of Italian that has her straightening her already ramrod straight spine and lowering her eyes in resignation.
“Welcome to our home,” she says to me in heavily accented English, and it’s the least warm welcome I’ve ever been given, but it’s better than nothing, so I give her an easy smile and say, “Thank you, Maria. It’s absolutely gorgeous here.”
The beauty of the place is undeniable, and when I take another breath, filling my lungs with the sweet scent of the flowers that surround us, I add, “These are the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen. They smell amazing.”
I see a small hint of approval at my compliment as Dario says, “ Mamma planted all of this, didn’t you?”
She gives me a begrudging nod, and I file the information away for later. If I ever want to get on her good side, I’ll just compliment her gardening skills.
“Well, it looks amazing,” I say, trying to score myself a couple more brownie points while she’s in a good mood. Before I can get crazy with it, Dario says something to them in Italian before tightening his grip on me and leading me away from them.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
“I want to show you something before we go inside.” Threading his fingers through mine, he leads me onto a footpath that circles around the house.
“I was right about your parents hating me,” I tell him as we walk.
“They don’t hate you.”
“Oh yeah? Then you won’t mind telling me what your mom said in Italian. It didn’t sound very nice, judging from your angry response.”
He looks down at me and says, “It was nothing, streghetta mia .”
“Oh, it was definitely something. Never mind, I’ll just get it out of you later.”
“You think so?”
“I know so,” I tell him right before he pulls me around the corner so I can see where he’s been leading me.
The panoramic view of the sea stuns me into silence.
Flowers cover the back of the house as well, and their sweet scent wafts over us as I take a second to appreciate the fairytale world I’ve stepped into.
The yard is manicured and extends far beyond us and off to the sides, there’s an infinity pool that’s situated to look like it’s right at the edge of the cliff, and I can see the beginning of a stone path that stretches out into a grove of olive trees.
Dario pulls me closer and cups my face, forcing my attention back to him. “You know so?” he asks, reminding me of our conversation.
“Yep.”
Dario might come from wealth and hold a high position in his family’s mafia, but he has the hands of a man who’s worked his entire life.
Years of training and fighting have ensured his hands will never have the smooth feel of someone who’s lead a pampered life.
The feel of those hard-earned callouses always makes my body react in the best way possible.
“Your pussy is not a bargaining chip, piccola vipera .”
“You don’t think so?”
He lets out an annoyed grunt that just sounds sexy coming from him and then picks me up, walking me over to a stone wall before setting my ass on it.
He steps in closer. Wrapping my ponytail around his wrist, he forces my head back while barricading me in place.
To anyone watching, it would look rough, but he’s only pulling hard enough to raise my face to his, making sure he has my full attention.
“Your pussy is not a bargaining chip,” he repeats again. “You will not use it to get your way, and you won’t threaten to keep it from me.”
I smile up at him, knowing it’ll piss him off. “You sure do have a lot of rules for my pussy.”
He presses his other hand flat against my lower back, pulling me against him so I can feel the hard length of him against my jeans.
“My pussy,” he corrects, “my perfect little pierced pussy, and I don’t have that many rules, sweetheart. It’s mine and only mine and you can’t try to use it as a bargaining chip. In return for those very simple things, I will fall to my knees and worship it every chance I get.”
He hears my sharp inhale and gives me a wicked grin .
“You like that idea?” He leans in and starts to kiss a line up my neck. “You like the idea of me sinking my tongue into you, of licking and sucking your sweet little cunt until you soak my face?”
I moan at his words and the way he starts nipping at my skin, each soft bite making me forget about everything except him.
“I can’t wait to explore your piercings,” he murmurs against my skin. “You have no fucking idea how badly I want inside your body, how much I want to feel you taking me in, squeezing me like you’ll never let me go.”
“Dario,” I whisper when he brings his hand around to grip my inner thigh, spreading me wider so he can grind harder against me. “Fuck, don’t you dare stop,” I warn.
His sexy, deep laugh is muffled as he keeps sucking on the skin of my neck.
My arms are wrapped around him, one hand in his hair and the other gripping his shoulder in an effort to keep him right where he is.
He’s had me right on the edge ever since he got me all riled up last night and then came all over my stomach.
I’m desperate for some relief, and when I rock my hips, he groans and brings his mouth to mine, kissing me with a ferocity that rocks me to my core.
He doesn’t ask me to submit with his lips—he fucking demands it.
Each stroke of his tongue, each nip of his teeth against my lips, and the way he’s still fisting my ponytail all mix together to make it impossible for me to resist him.
My body softens, becoming compliant in a way that it never has for anyone else.
In my heart I know it will never be like this for anyone but him.
He makes me want to expose my soft parts, the vulnerable places that I usually work so hard to keep hidden.
“ Vipera mia, ” he whispers against my lips. “Are you close, sweetheart?”
I nod and fist his hair harder, willing him to not stop.
“Do you want me to let you come?”
“Yes,” I beg when he presses harder against me, causing my piercing to move and nearly tip me over the edge. “Don’t you dare stop.”
“Are you ever going to try and keep this sweet pussy from me? ”
I growl against his mouth, letting him hear how pissed he’s making me. I feel him smile before he slips his hand under my T-shirt and runs his thumb over my nipple, hard enough to tug on the barbell so it floods me with another rush of pleasure.
“Hmm,” he murmurs. “I can’t hear you, little viper.”
“No,” I whisper when he gives my piercing another tug. “I won’t keep it from you.”
“Good girl,” he growls before kissing me hard and pushing me over the edge with the next thrust of his hips.
Pleasure races through me, blinding me with the force of it.
He breaks our kiss, pulling my ponytail and jerking my head back so he can watch me fall apart.
His pupils are blown, making his eyes look black and the feral look in them has another wave hitting me, so powerful I can’t help but arch my back and scream his name.
A smug, wicked grin spreads across his face at hearing it, but I’m too lost to my own pleasure to care that I’m giving him exactly what he wants.
My body slowly starts to return to normal, and when it does, I bolt upright, looking around and hoping like hell his parents haven’t come out to check on us.
“Something wrong, sweetheart?” Dario’s teasing tone is bad enough, but when he accompanies it with a pinch to my nipple, I glare at him and try to push his hand away. He tsks at me and says, “Don’t worry, I didn’t let anyone hear you who wasn’t supposed to.”
“What?” An uneasy feeling starts to work its way up my spine, and when I turn my head, I have just enough time to see several armed men walking through the olive grove. They aren’t looking at us, but there’s no way in hell they didn’t just hear me scream Dario’s name under the afternoon sun.
“You asshole!” I hiss at him, keeping my voice at the low level I should’ve been using a few minutes ago.
“Ah, la mia piccola vipera , don’t be too mad, sweetheart. They needed to hear this, and I hate to break it to you, but it won’t be the last time they hear you come with my name on your lips.”
I glare at him, letting him see exactly how pissed I am, but underneath the anger is a deep hurt that I refuse to acknowledge.
His dark eyes study mine, peeling back the layers that I’m trying so hard to keep together, and when his eyes soften, I narrow mine, because the last thing I want is his sympathy.
When I try to look away, he pulls my ponytail tighter, refusing to let me turn my head. Before he says anything, he presses his lips to mine in a tender kiss.
“Just because I let them hear you doesn’t mean we didn’t just share something, streghetta mia .
They’re not allowed to look, and even if they had, I made sure you weren’t visible, because no one gets to see you like this but me.
I needed them to see us together to make this believable, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want this, and it doesn’t mean that watching you orgasm while screaming my name wasn’t the sexiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen. ”