His massive cock slides deep inside of me. There’s none of that fumbling that comes from this being our first time. We’re both too full of pent-up energy for that. I dig my fingernails into his shoulders, bouncing on him. He grabs my ass. He throws me around like a rag doll, up and down, his searing length grinding my lips.
“Throw me,” I pant. “Use me.” This is strictly a one-time-only hookup, and it’s been so long that I’ve had sex, that I’m throwing it all out there, no holds barred. After tonight, I’m never, ever going to see this man again. But for the next few minutes, I want to be his.
I bite his neck. He rasps in my ear, a deep, carnal sound that tells me he’s close. “I wanna feel you come on me, Dani,” he groans.
I’m about to tell him that it’s coming soon, but then soon comes—well, sooner than expected. The disco lights are pulsing against his bare chest, his eyes are consuming me, his cock is burning up inside of me. When my orgasm comes, it hits like a truck.
We stumble across the room, falling onto a couch, Angelo biting softly at my neck and shoulder as he thrusts even harder.
We finish together in a crescendo, like we’re making music. At the very peak of it, the moment when I’m completely and totally checked out of my head and I can barely keep myself from drooling all over his bare chest, I find his gaze and realize that he’s doing the exact same thing—staring back into my soul with an unreadable emotion in his eyes.
Then he rolls aside and I come to my senses.
We lay still for about a nanosecond before I push him off of me and scramble away to find my jeans. He’s already walking across the room as I jump back into them.
“Another drink?” he asks casually, as though we’re some faint mutual acquaintances here for social hour.
I feel cold and empty all of a sudden, but I don’t want him to see that, so I turn away as I button and zip my jeans back up. “I think we’re supposed to do that in reverse, right?” I laugh bitterly. “Drink, then have sex? But you’re not one to play by the rules now, are you, playboy? I think I’ll take you up on that champagne this time. The beer didn’t go where it was supposed to go, last time around. Turned into a little bit of a fiasco, if you ask me.”
He grins. “I suppose we will have to settle for a champagne fiasco instead.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I tell him as he swaggers over to me. I back up instinctively. It feels like I’m being cornered by a wild beast. His hair is mussed, but his cock is still hard and threatening. He looks like he was carved out of marble. And that smirk… it’s maddening, intoxicating.
I shiver and break eye contact as I reach forward to grab the glass of champagne he’s offering. It takes every ounce of self-control I have on tap to keep my hand from shaking.
This all feels so natural, so easy. That can only mean one thing—it’s very, very dangerous. Getting mixed up with a mysterious club owner with scars on his chest and a dark glint in his eyes is definitely not part of any plan I have for myself.
But I also feel like I’m not really here, like I’ve vacated my head for a little while. It’s a night away from being me, right? In here—this dark, private room—I don’t have to worry about tending to overdose victims or fretting about my little brother or mourning the death of my parents. In here, for this night only, I can take my foot off the gas and sink into the hot lava lust that’s bubbling up inside of me.
So I dip my fingers in the glass of champagne and hold them up to him.
“Your turn.”
He pauses, and I’m not sure whether it’s one second or one million seconds that pass us by. All I know is that Angelo is standing in front of me, buck naked and beautiful, with my champagne-drenched fingers just a few millimeters away from his lips. He’s eyeing me hungrily, possessively, and my body is reacting to his like I’m a star going nova, about to explode.
Then he leans forward just the slightest bit and closes his lips around my fingers.
Angelo
Two Days Later
The crown jewel of the De Maggio club empire, Sole Nero, is busy as usual. I sit far back in my private booth and sip on a glass of whiskey.
But I’m not sipping as slowly as I perhaps should be. Still, it makes no difference. No matter how much I drink, I cannot dampen the unprecedented thrill that surges through me every time I think of Dani.
I watch as Levi makes his way across the dance floor. Even though Levi isn’t exactly what one would consider a classically handsome man, the club girls are all over him. That is how it is with the women who come to our clubs regularly: they’re hungry for power.
He eventually pries himself loose of the piranhas in tall heels and tight dresses and mounts the stairs up to the raised booth where I am seated. I know he likes sitting up here, where they can ogle him. Maybe I like it too, sometimes. But tonight, I’m weary of being on display.
Levi wrinkles his brow as he slides into the seat next to me. “Why the sour face?”
“Because an ugly bastard named Levi Mancini has just disturbed my peace and quiet.”
“Peace and quiet?” Levi laughs. He gestures at the massive speaker stacks lining an entire wall. The music is deafening.
“Just peace, then.”
He raises his glass. “To disturbing the peace.”
We clink glasses together and I take a small sip. It burns, like it always does, but not nearly as much as the irritation that churns in my chest when Levi broaches the one topic I’ve been avoiding, as I knew he would: my father’s goddamned ultimatum.
“Have you given it any more thought?” he asks.
“Father and his fucking demands,” I growl. “I’ve been serving this Family for years. I’m not going to get married just because he tells me to. I’m his son, for fuck’s sake, not his puppet. I understand that he wants me to have an heir, a family …”
For a second, I think about Mother. I remember being a young boy and standing in the doorway of the kitchen, watching her and Father dancing together as the scent of fresh carbonara drifted into the air. I remember seeing the eternal worry lines etched into his face actually relaxing in that moment. As if that was all that mattered to him.
Is that what he wants for me? To be so distracted by a woman that I lose focus on the empire we’re trying to cultivate, to retain, to dominate?
Fuck that. I spend my nights with the faceless whores who populate this nightclub because they do exactly the opposite: they remind me that business is all that matters.
“It’s my time now, Levi. You know it. I know it. Father even knows it. He’s getting old. He’s grown too damn soft for his own good. That shit with the baking powder … do you think he’s going to retaliate against Dujar? No. When Dujar lies and tells him it was an innocent mix-up, which surely he will, Father will pretend to believe him. ‘Diplomacy,’ he’ll say. He always fucking says that.” I shake my head. “It’s a fucking joke. Someone needs to shake the old man from his roost.”
“You sound like you’re considering a power play,” Levi says cautiously.
“Against my own father? The man who took down the Irish? Who slayed the Elephant? Who put the whole city under his thumb in one fell swoop?” I shake my head. “He was a force to be reckoned with, once upon a time.”