Gian (Trassato Crime Family #1)(48)

She stared at me, her eyes simmering with lust and a hundred unspoken emotions. Uneven breaths puffed from her mouth, and my attention dropped to her breasts, searching and finding her pebbled nipples beneath her flimsy nightie.

Fucking beautiful.

“Yes.”

I wrapped the tie around her eyes, knotting it at the back of her head. Her body coiled like a spring and a giant stream of air whooshed out of her lungs.

“What are you doing?” she rasped, her chin angling to the side, and her pink-tipped fingers clutching the square edge of the dresser.

“Shh.” One of my hands wound around her slim neck, not applying any pressure. I just wanted to establish I was in control and I would protect her. I pressed a finger to her lips. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

I slid one strap of her nightie down her shoulder then the other. The silky material pooled around her waist, exposing her tight rose-colored buds. I cupped them in my hands, strumming my thumbs over the sensitive tips.

“I can’t.”

I dragged her panties down her mile-long legs, the petal-soft hush of lace against skin ringing my ears. Nothing had ever sounded so damn arousing.

“You can.”

I kissed and caressed every inch of her skin, and the tension gradually unfurled from her limbs. She bit her lower lip, and a ragged moan escaped her, and just like that, I knew I had her. She wouldn’t object. My fingers dipped between her legs, smearing her wetness around her clit, bringing her to the brink, again and again.

“Please, Gian.”

Her body arched like a pagan sacrifice. Her chest rose and fell in harmonized spurts. Her sunset-colored locks danced along her collarbone. Her pink lips were parted, and I couldn’t hold back for another second.

Groaning, I shoved my boxer briefs down my hips, and dragged the head of my cock through her folds. She pawed at me, kissing my face, my chest, my neck, and any body part within striking distance.

With one hard thrust of my hips, I shoved inside her. She was warm, wet, and perfect for me. I stalled momentarily to commit the feeling to memory, and her head drooped like it was too much work to keep it aloft. The tail of my tie drifted over her shoulder, dangling like a pendulum of a grandfather clock.

I pulled her forehead flush against mine, rocking against her. The urgency inside my chest swelled, crawling up my throat. I needed to be deeper, claiming everything she’d give me and more.

My heart thundered as I moved faster and harder inside of her like this moment was all we’d ever have. Like someone could snatch her away any second and I’d be left with nothing except regrets and memories.

Every time I thrust, she arched her pelvis to meet me. The dresser pounded against the drywall.

My lungs strained, my thighs burned, and sweat trickled down my back.

Little whimpers and mewls hummed low in her throat, and I leaned forward confiscating them with my mouth, not wanting any part of her to go unsampled. Pleasure built inside of me, hijacking my body and my thoughts.

Her mouth parted, her thighs trembled, and she clenched around me so tight I thought I’d found heaven.

Our actions choreographed, our heartbeats synchronized, and her body bowed and shuddered against mine. When the last twinge of pleasure rippled through her, Evie dropped her head to my shoulder, and I let go. Silence punctuated by our quickened breaths filled the air.

After a few beats, I removed the blindfold from her eyes, still deep inside of her. Her eyes fluttered, blinking away the darkness, and adjusting to the weak lighting of the room. Her hair was tangled, her eyes were glazed, her lips were bee-stung. I’d never seen anyone look more beautiful in my life. Possessiveness coiled around me like a snake, and I struggled to suck in a breath.

“You’re mine. Not your ex’s or any other man’s. Do you understand?” I choked out, too many emotions to name swelling inside of me.

She trailed her fingers down my chest. “And that makes you mine.”

I didn’t object, because it was true. She owned me. “You’re not meeting your ex tomorrow.”

“I know. I’ll text him tomorr—”

“It’s no longer your concern.” I scraped the hair away from her face so I could absorb every detail. “I’ll talk to him.”

Her breath hitched.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re not going to hurt him or…?”

“Or what?”

“Do what guys like you do when you want someone to disappear.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Guys like me?”

“I know that you’re involved—”

I covered her mouth. “Don’t say it, Evie. The less you know for sure, the better.”

She nodded, and I dropped my hand.

“Answer one question.”

I groaned. “What do you want to know?”

“Why did you choose this life?”

Shit. I didn’t want to go there with Evie. “Honestly, I’ve never given it much thought. It’s in my blood. My dad, my uncle, my grandfather. No one escapes it, and honestly, I didn’t want to.”

Her brows pinched together, and twin lines dented the skin over the bridge of her nose. “Why not?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Try.”

Groaning inwardly, I scrambled for and explanation an outsider would understand. “When I was a kid, my dad’s power mesmerized me. He could double or triple park his car, and nobody would do anything. People gave our family shit for free. We were treated like royalty everywhere we went. I didn’t see the ugly side until much later, and by then, it was too late. Once you’re in, you’re in for life. Death is the only way out.”