Conquered by the Mafia Boss

#2 Chapter 25



Then, as if he expects it, as if he knows I’m just inwardly begging for him to do it, he lowers his head and catches my mouth in his. My heart rams against my chest as his lips touch mine, the kiss deepening as he clenches the back of my neck. He’s softer than I’ve ever felt him, but then I feel his tongue, and then I remember that we’re right in the middle of a fucking café.

Good thing I’m quitting.

Johnny pulls back with a primal growl in the back of his throat, looking as though he’d quite like to strip me down right in the café.

“How about it? Do you want another night-”

“-Shh-”

“-Where you scream my name as you come on my cock?” He just laughs at me when I pound his chest. “Come on. I’ll take you out.”Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

God, I can’t fucking stand it even though I know it’s wrong. He’s wrong. I want him. Every cell in my body screams for him.

“We’re a disaster waiting to happen. If my father finds out-”

“I’m not afraid of your father.”

Sold.

I don’t know what kind of drugs he’s on, but if he doesn’t give a shit about the risk he’s taking, why should I?

I leave the rag on the table as I take his hand, my spirits so high that I could probably fly if I jumped in the air. There’s a car waiting out front, and he opens the passenger door for me, my skin heating when he slides in next to me. I don’t know why, but I feel fucking nervous locked in the car with him.

“I can’t believe you’re not pissed off about my dad.”

Johnny shrugs as he slides his arm around my shoulders and draws me closer. I feel his breath on my face and I know that if I turn my head, he’ll kiss me.

“I was pissed before, but now I understand.”

Fucking slick bastard will say anything to get into my pants.

He hooks his hand around my thigh and an electrical shock runs straight to my pussy as he tilts my face toward his with just a finger under my jaw.

It was inevitable once I felt his hands on me. The spark between us is undeniable. Like flesh on flame, like tongue on steel. His lips crush mine as the stubble on his cheek scratches my skin. My heart pounds when he pulls back slightly to look at me with unbridled lust. I’ve never been with a man like this. He swallows my gasps as he kisses me again, grabbing my tits through my shirt. His thumb moves roughly over my peaked nipple as a wave of heat rolls over my chest.

I yank his lapels and feel the heat emanating from his skin. I palm his chest, sliding down his tie as his tongue dazzles my mouth. His tongue slipped inside my pussy that night. That’s all I can think of as he kisses me. My hand settles in his lap, the burning heat now a raging forest fire. I grab his cock, which stiffens in my grip. Johnny digs his fingers in my hair as he rests his forehead against mine, a low growl rumbling from his chest.

I love that.

The car stops and Johnny pulls away from me, adjusting his cock so that his raging hard-on is not so obvious. My mouth waters as I look at it. He gives me a wink as the driver opens the door, and then I realize how fucked up my hair must be.

Oh shit.

He stopped us in front of small café: Momesso. Italian sausage sandwiches.

I press my lips into a firm line as laughter builds up inside my chest. This must be his idea of a joke.

“What, we’re going to eat here?”

“That’s the idea.”

“Italian sausage? Is this a joke?”

He looks at me, smiling. “They make really good sandwiches.”

I don’t know. I look around the parking lot for a hint of chrome, because if one of my father’s people saw me with an Italian-

“Relax. We won’t be seen.”

He holds the glass door open for me with a smile and I walk inside as my stomach clenches over and over. I’m already condemned.

Johnny’s suit clashes horribly with the interior. It’s an ordinary-looking café, with plastic tables and chairs. Nothing special. Johnny wraps an arm around my waist and bends his head to my ear.

“Go get us a table.”

I turn around to see the whole fucking establishment staring at me. Their eyes drop when I catch them, my heart pounding louder than ever.

That’s fucking it. I’m Googling him when I get home.

I don’t know who the fuck he is, but obviously he’s someone important. High up in the family. I choose a table and watch the cash register. Johnny takes out his wallet and argues with the cashier, who waves his hands.

“Your money is no good here.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Of course, Mr. Cravotta.”

Damn. That son of a bitch doesn’t have to pay for anything.

Moments later he walks to our table with a sexy little smirk that makes my heart flip. He sits down across from me, and he looks at me as though I’m the meal even as the worker sets the plates of sandwiches down. The spicy smell of the Italian sausage, split in half in the toasted bun, makes a sudden, sharp pang of hunger hit me. I take it with my hands, but he picks up the plastic knife and fork and uses them to cut into the sandwich.

What a freak.

“So, what is this between us?”

He merely glances up at me. “It is what it is.”

Well, that’s a nonanswer.

“You know my dad would kill you if he found out about this, right?”

His smile widens and a stab of anxiety hits my chest.

“Oh, I doubt that very much.”

I watch as he pops a piece of the sandwich into his mouth and chews, his eyes dancing with mirth.

What is he hiding?


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