Owned by the mafia boss

MIA

I woke up wrapped in a cloud of male. The scent triggered images I couldn’t untangle-confusing blurs of Italian men, dark street corners, and someone’s protective embrace. I smiled into the downy pillow and stretched my toes, surprised when they didn’t bump the bed frame. My leg stuck out from the blankets. Cold stung my knee. I dove into the sheets that glided on my skin like silk. It was a furnace under the comforter.

What made it an oven?Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

I inched closer to the warmth, rolling into a man’s body. I moved David’s arm aside, squirmed onto him, and nuzzled his neck. He was so warm, and he smelled incredible. I picked up sandalwood and leather notes, instead of the usual perfumed laundry detergent. Did he use a cologne-or was this his scent, and I’d never noticed before?

Strange.

Whatever it was, the intoxicating essence clung to his pillow. I felt across the broad panes of his chest as my arousal sharpened. Damn, had he been working out? I stroked his massive shoulder and swept to his stubbled jaw and chin. He inhaled through his nose, a shallow noise. Then he released the breath with a deep groan that reverberated between my legs. His hand wrapped my waist. He slipped under my pants and brushed the swell of my ass. Then he squeezed.

Hot.

I wanted more. I pressed my mouth into his sinewy neck, his sharp jaw line, and then I pushed into his thick hair. When I nibbled his ear, he growled. Sexy as fuck. I had to do it again. A pleased sound vibrated into me. When did David turn into a feral beast? Why did the scent of him make me giddy?

I kissed his throat. “I had the craziest dream.”

“Was it about me?”

Alessio.

His body. His sheets. His bed.

I stiffened as the images from last night arranged themselves. Zip ties burned at the forefront of my brain. I lifted my head, no longer trapped in a happy bubble of safety. He’d taken me captive, and I’d willingly snuggled beside him.

What was wrong with me?

A bare-chested Alessio sprawled underneath me. His olive skin flushed where I’d kissed him. I ripped from him before I tamed my reaction. Hazel slits opened as he rolled over and settled inches away. A sleepy smile staggered across his lips when he took me in, curled in a protective ball.

Oh my God.

“Get back here.”

My insides blackened at the fact I’d groped him. “I didn’t mean to-I thought you-when did you get naked?”

Alessio’s grin widened. He pushed himself upright with a yawn. I shoved myself to the other side of the bed, heart hammering.

“I’m wearing boxers.”

The comforter fell off his shoulders as he revealed a sculpted frame that I never could’ve mistaken for David’s. Alessio had a hundred times the sex appeal, especially with mussed hair and a smoldering voice. It was deep with exhaustion.

I’d slept with him.

I searched my surroundings. The bag and all its contents were gone.

Alessio slipped from bed, a Greek god compared to David. Corded muscle rippled down his arms. He flashed me a smile so disarming I fisted the sheets.

“I’m taking a shower. You’re welcome to join.”

No fucking way.

I was too frazzled to respond, but Alessio didn’t hang around. He headed into another room, where I could still see him. Light bounced off charcoal floors as he faced the mirror. Water poured as he turned the faucet. He splashed his face and scratched his stubble, his eyes struggling to open. I admired the large muscles rippling along his back, the seductive line riding his spine, and the two gorgeous dimples just above his ass. He thumbed his boxers, the fabric dragging over his hips. He was perfectly proportioned.

Why the hell was I scoping his body?

I ripped my gaze from Alessio. The whirlwind of images pieced together as I swung my legs over the mattress. He slept with me, but he must’ve crawled out because his slacks weren’t on the floor. I couldn’t find my backpack.

I stood.

A pressing question hammered my skull.

Even if it gutted me, I had to know.

I followed Alessio into a luxurious bathroom with gray tiles and white marble walls. His and hers sinks touched the left side, from which a window flooded light. A claw-foot tub sat on the right, and ahead, fogged glass. The nude outline of Alessio flitted in and out of view. I glimpsed a muscular thigh and a long, hanging shadow that sucked in my breath.

“Are you a voyeur, or do you want something?”

His voice echoed above the steam, inviting me forward. I didn’t touch a stitch of my clothes as I approached. Working up the nerve to confront a naked Alessio was a fucking challenge.

I opened the door.

Alessio had braced himself against the stone as the spray hit his head. He looked different underwater. More alive with the blossoming red cheeks and neck where heat kissed his tanned skin. When the cold draft blew in, he noticed me. His lips curled into a tight smile, as though I kept surprising him in ways that pleased him.

“Mia. You’re overdressed.” He faced me, close enough to taste the water clinging to his mouth. “Come in.”

“Where were you last night?”

“Take off your clothes, and I’ll answer.”

“Don’t play games with me. Where did you go?”

“We’re not married yet. What’s with the interrogation?”

“Where did you go?”

Alessio sighed. “David’s.”

He’s gone.

My hand slipped. I thought of David’s welcoming arms, his kind eyes, the characteristics I admired-they’d vanished. He was dead because I visited him for twenty minutes. While I slept, Alessio had murdered him. He’d warned me.

This was my fault.

How would I live with myself?

“After everything I told you?” Hurt laced every syllable as I ground my fingers into the glass. “How could you?”

“Mia, relax.”

“You killed him. I explained how devastated I was by violence, and you did it anyway. Are you that sick and broken? Fuck me, you are. Aren’t you?”

“No.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“No, I didn’t kill him. I taught him a fucking lesson.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“Call him if you like, but don’t expect him to respond. I gave him very explicit details on what’d happen if he contacted you. This is for his own sake as much as yours. If you’d cared about him, you should’ve used your vibrator.”

The relief pouring in almost buckled my knees before that final sentence chased it away.

“You’re revolting.”

“That might be more believable if I didn’t wake up to your hands on me.”

“I thought Cristiano Ronaldo had slipped into my bed.”

“Meaning, I’m as hot as an international sports star.”

I growled.

He laughed, his dimples widening. He allowed the spray to hit his neck, and I wished I were the drops trailing the lean muscle that seemed to extend all the way-

I snapped to his knowing grin. “Last night, I was weak. Lonely.”

“Well, I can help with that.” Alessio jerked his head, inviting me inside. “I’m serious. I don’t want you to be lonely.”

His honeyed words were poison.

“Join me.”

“No.”

“You’re getting an eyeful of me. Time to return the favor.”

“I can’t.”

“It’s only fair. Come in. I’ll make you feel so damn good you’ll forget you hate me.”

“Alessio, I’m not-I’m not ready.”

Water made rivers on the glass as he palmed the wall, his voice low and earnest. “I won’t touch you. Promise.”

I saw myself ripping off my shirt and climbing into the steam, but I wasn’t prepared for him touching my naked skin. “Somehow, I don’t believe you.”

He dragged a finger over his chest, a chill riding my spine when the gesture took a double meaning.

Cross his heart.

Hope to die.