“Tell me you’re not going to fall for his brother. You do realize this isn’t a game. They’re dangerous, Cali.” My warning tone sounds like something a mother would say, but I can’t help worrying about my younger cousin. Even though she’s only two years younger and an adult, sometimes, she can be irresponsible.
“No, we’re having fun. I’m way too young to fall in love. Besides, you’re the one who looks more forlorn than any of us. Also, tonight is a double date. Adria and Matteo are going to meet up and we’re all going clubbing. Maybe you should come? Ask Franco to join us. Who knows, you might have some fun for a change.”
* * *
I didn’t wantto go out, but my cousin can be frustrating when she’s got an idea in her head and won’t let it go. So, I find myself in the middle of a nightclub. The red and purple strobe lights swirl back and forth over the sweaty crowd and I’m watching my cousin and best friend dancing with the two brothers.
No, my courage to ask a man like Franco to come out to a nightclub is non-existent, hence me sitting here nursing a cocktail with a name I don’t want to think about.
“Hey, a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be sitting alone. Let’s dance?” A drawl from beside me has my skin crawling. When I turn to find the source, I’m met with green eyes that almost seem luminous in the darkened club.
“No, thank you.” I offer a smile and drag my gaze back over to the dance floor. My hopes that the stranger will go away are dashed when he slips into the seat beside me and grabs my wrist.
“You should be friendlier to people. It’s rude to refuse a man a dance when he asked so politely,” he hisses in my ear and fear snakes its way over my skin and collects in my chest. With my heart thudding wildly and the loud bass of the music, I can’t find my voice to call for help. Neither Adria nor Calista are looking this way, and their dates are more entranced by the girls than casting an eye toward me.
“Please, just leave me alone,” I plead, anxiety lacing my tone, and I fight to swallow the lump of panic that’s silently trying to choke me.
“You’re going to dance with me, pretty lady.” The strength of his grip has my hand tingling from loss of blood, but before he can drag me off the seat, his hand falls away.
“Get your filthy hands off her. Now.” A thick accent much like a rich chocolate fills the space and my head snaps around to find the dark eyes of Franco Moretti glaring at the man. “Either you take your vile hands off of her and find some other toy to play with, or I’ll slice each finger from your limbs and have them stuffed down your throat.” Each word is filled with a threat I have no doubt he can fulfill.
My gaze flits between my savior and my attacker. The drunken man leans in and hisses under his breath, “Russo says this isn’t over, Moretti.” And with that, he’s gone.
“What are you doing here?” The question falls from my lips in a gasp as he circles one strong arm around my waist and tugs me against his solid form. Everything south of my belly button liquefies and my skin heats with the penetrating gaze he pins me with.
“Do you enjoy being sitting bait for assholes?”
His biting question sends me reeling and my feisty temper flares. “Obviously, you’re here, aren’t you?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to swallow them back in. With one strong hand holding me against him, the other comes up and fists my wavy locks, gripping my head tightly as he leans in. Our mouths only inches apart and the need for him to kiss me has me squeezing my thighs together to ease the ache.
“Do not piss me off, Raina. I don’t take kindly to competition and men putting their hands on what’s mine. That pretty little mouth of yours”—he halts for a moment, as if composing himself, dark eyes falling to my lips as my tongue darts out to moisten them—“will be fucked if you try to talk to me like that again. Do you understand me?” His grip on my hair tightens and a soft whimper falls from my lips. I should nod, I should agree, but the alcohol racing through my veins, coupled with the desire he stokes like a fire in my core, has my mouth working to my disadvantage.
“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, sir,” my murmur is like fuel, which sets him alight. His body visibly vibrates as he grips both my hips, lifting me and walking toward the rear of the VIP section where we’ve been seated. We come to a stop when my back hits the wall and he presses his body against mine.
“You want this,bella?” He calls me beautiful in Italian, which only intensifies my yearning. “Because, once I take you, once I fuck you, your body will no longer be the same. You’ll hurt, sweetheart. You’ll cry and beg and scream.” He hisses so violently, but his words don’t scare me, they caress me. They stroke my skin, they ignite my blood, and my panties are drenched.
“I want this.”
That’s all he needed. His one hand deftly finds the hem of my dress, lifting it to my hips. His fingers stroke the wetness between my thighs and he audibly groans when he finds the material damp.
“Jesus, Raina, you’re fucking wet for me,” he moans as his lips find my neck. They feather along the sensitive skin, causing goose bumps to rise in their wake. When he shifts my panties to the side, he slips a finger into my molten core. I’m slick, needy, and my fingers find purchase on his shoulders. “Spread your fucking legs for me,” he grunts, pressing himself against my thigh. I can feel the thick, hard length of his erection.
“More, please,” I beg. I plead. I whimper. Suddenly, two thick fingers delve into my pussy. In and out. Deeper. Faster. My legs tremble and my body arches toward him. I’m needy. I’m wet. I’m about to unravel for this man.
“I’m going to whip your ass so hard for making me do this, but fuck, I need to feel you come. Do it. Now. Soak my hand in your juices, Raina,” he growls, his teeth sinking into the smooth skin of my neck as he sucks the flesh into his mouth. His digits crook inside me, pressing against the front wall of my pussy, and I explode.
My knees give out and if he wasn’t pressed against me, I’d never be able to stand on my own. My eyes shut so tight all I see are white lights. My body pulses around his fingers and I know I’ve soaked his hand.
Moments, perhaps hours, later when my eyes flutter open, I find dark chocolate pools bearing down on me. “You’re exquisite when you’re lost in lust and desire,bella,” he murmurs reverently. A smirk tugs at his lips and he steps back. Taking a look around, I realize we’re still in the club. Nobody’s even noticed us.
“How long—”
“Only a few minutes. You were so beautiful flying so high, so graceful.” He reaches up with the hand that had given me the best orgasm of my life, and he smiles. “Taste yourself,” he whispers and I do. Sucking both digits into my mouth, my essence both sweet and musky coats my tongue. Before I have a moment to think, he pulls them from my lips and crashes his mouth on mine. Unapologetically, his tongue sweeps into my mouth. It’s violent, like the man himself. It’s rough, sexy, and as I allow him to explore my mouth with his, he steals every breath, every sound, and I know he’s about to steal my very soul.
When our mouths finally part, I’m breathless and so is he. “Franco,” I breathe his name, but he places a finger on my lips, silencing me.
“Don’t. The only thing I need to hear from you is you saying yes.”
“Yes?” My brows crease in confusion as our eyes meld into each other. This man is danger with a capital D, but he’s also a mystery. Tiny hidden pieces of one solid story that I’d like to uncover. Each moment I spend with him, something small is revealed to me. Whether it’s the way he looks at me, something he says. My curiosity wins out, and I find myself wanting to know all the parts of the cryptic Franco Moretti.