2

Vincenzo

"What are you doing?" She's terrified, and instead of calming her, I climb onto the bed between her legs and press my weight down. It's not to scare her, but to prevent her from kneeing me or hitting me with her arms. That's why I have my hand over her mouth and I'm trying to restrain her gently.

"Stay calm," I growl.

Her eyes widen, and I realize she might not understand me.

"Stay quiet," I snap.

She squirms underneath me, trying to break free, but it only brings her closer to the hardness between my legs. She freezes instantly, her cheeks flushing. She wriggles harder, biting down on my fingers that cover her mouth, sending a jolt through me. The pain mixes with a rush of arousal, making me stiffer. This seems to frighten her more, and she fights back fiercely. She strikes my face with her free hand, making me grunt.

The wound on my head throbs, sending pain shooting through me. For a moment, I see stars. She leans back, her curly hair swirling around her face like Medusa. She's like Medusa, here to tempt and freeze me in place. Mission accomplished on both counts. My head spins, a strange sensation coiling in my chest. Electricity pulses through me, and I pull back.

She seizes the opportunity, frees one leg, and kicks me in the thigh. It doesn’t hurt much, but I've had enough.

"Stop fighting me, you feisty thing; there are cameras watching us."

She struggles for a moment, then goes still, seeming to understand my words.

I nod and gesture toward the ceiling. She follows my gaze to the light fixture.

"It looks like a regular light, doesn't it?" I ask.

She nods.

"Take a closer look," I urge.

She squints at it for a moment, then another, and understanding flashes across her face. She quickly turns her gaze back to me, a question in her eyes.

"Yeah, that's a hidden camera," I confirm with a nod.

Her whole body tenses and then relaxes as I remove my hand from her mouth.

She swallows, "So, all this time, they were..." Her voice trails off as realization sinks in. She pales. "They were—"

"Watching you. And now they’re watching us. I bet they have microphones on us too," I add.

She swallows again, tension pouring off her in waves. Her shoulders tense up, every muscle in her body coiling nervously. Her chest rises and falls, the snug fabric of her shirt emphasizing her curves.

Heat rushes through me. Damn, her nipples are hard enough to show through her shirt. My chest tightens. I realize I’ve leaned in closer when she jolts. I lift my gaze to her face and notice her pupils are dilated almost completely. Only a ring of gold around them shows her irises.

"I’ll take my hand away from your mouth, but promise not to scream," I warn her.

She freezes for a moment, then nods.

Damn, I don’t trust her. She’s probably going to scream as soon as I let go. And how long can I stay like this, trying to keep her quiet, with her body so close, her sweet scent, soft skin, and warmth making me increasingly uncomfortable?

Fuck! I release my hand, and instantly, she screams. So I do the only thing I can in that moment; I press my lips against hers. Her whole body stiffens. I absorb the sound, kiss her deeply, and thrust my tongue into her mouth.

She stays still for a beat, then another. Then, she bites down on my lower lip, andcazzo, my cock jerks in my pants. I tilt my head, deepen the kiss, and she pushes her breasts up into my chest. She juts out her chin, relaxes her jaw, and I slide my tongue in deeper. The taste of her is sweet and complex, with a bite, the scent of her like crushed rose petals, the feel of her curves so soft, so lush, so goddamn sumptuous. My head spins. She writhes under me, and the hard column in my pants nestles into her core. My balls tighten. A hot sensation fills my chest, and my ribcage hurts. I squeeze her chin to hold her face where I want it as I swipe my tongue across her teeth, as I drink from her, and suck on her tongue, and my entire body goes on alert.

The hair on the back of my neck rises, and the muscles of my shoulders coil. I tear my mouth from hers and stare into her flushed face. Into those tawny eyes with pupils so blown, I swear I can see myself reflected in the blackness.

She stares back, the surprise I feel reflected in her features. Then, she raises her hand—and to be honest, I see what’s coming, but I do nothing to avoid it—and her palm connects with my cheek. My head jolts back, and yet, I can’t take my gaze off of her. Something electric crackles in the air between us, coils itself around my chest, and squeezes until I can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t do anything but gape at her.

"Get off of me," she snarls.

"Only if you promise to listen," I shoot back.

"First, get off me."

"First, you promise to listen."

"I’ll do no such thing."

"In that case..." I lean more heavily on her, and her eyes widen.

"You wouldn’t." She scowls.

"Try me." I smirk. Using my weight to keep her in place while I try to get her to... Listen to me? It’s not the nicest move, but whatever. We’re in trouble, and the only way out is if I can get her to do what I say.

Her face goes a bit pale, then she tightens her lips. "Fine," she mutters quietly.

"I didn’t catch that," I tease.

"Asshole," she murmurs.

"Heard that, and it’s alpha hole to you."

She opens and closes her mouth. "You think pretty highly of yourself, huh?"

"Not the only thing that’s inflated, Angel."

"Don’t call me that."

"I’ll call you whatever I want." I grin wider.

Her scowl deepens. "You... you... Jerkwad!"

I blink, then can’t stop the chuckle that rolls up my throat. I laugh so hard, my whole body shakes, and as a result, she shakes under me. "That’s a creative insult, I’ll give you that."

"I’m just getting started," she shoots back.

"You and I are going to have fun; I can feel it," I tease her.

"Get off of me." She slaps my shoulder, and the vibrations shudder through my brain. The back of my head begins to throb in earnest. I touch the space and my fingers come away wet.

"Is that blood?" She stares at it, then at my face. "Does it hurt?"

"Are you concerned?" I narrow my gaze on her.

"Of course not. But since we are, clearly, having a conversation, can you please get off me now?"

"We are, aren’t we?" I roll off of her, and once on my feet, extend my arm to her. "Vincenzo Lombardi."

She sits up, then pushes off the bed and stands facing me.

"What the hell did you think you were doing earlier?" She scowls.

"Trying to distract you so you wouldn’t scream and make those guys come in here again."

She pales a little, and her gaze flicks to the door. "Did they take you, as well? I mean, obviously, they did take you... But how did they overpower you? You seem—"

"Strong? Virile? Sexy?"

She darts me an annoyed look. "Does everything always have to be about you?"

"Not always… but mostly." I wiggle my fingers. "At least shake my hand, will you?"

"If you think I'm going to be your friend after what you did earlier, you're wrong."

"Considering we've already swapped spit, a handshake doesn't seem so far off."

She throws up her hands. "You're disgusting."

"And you're cute when you're mad."

"Huh?" She opens and closes her mouth. "Who are you again?"

"Vincenzo Lombardi, part of the Lombardi Seven."

"Are you some kind of underground Mafia group?"

"How'd you figure that out?"

"You're joking, right?" She starts to laugh, but my serious expression makes her lips tighten. "You're not joking."

"Not at all," I confirm.

"Oh, for goodness' sake." She steps back, as if realizing the situation too late. Too bad—I've already got my eye on you, and I'm not letting go easily.

"So, you're part of a Mafia gang?"

"I am the Mafia." I stand firm. "And you're stuck in here with me."