Mia gasped as she tried to adjust to his thick, hard shaft, the exquisite fullness of being so completely filled, the connection she felt as he pushed deeper into her body.
“If I’d known how good you’d feel, how hot and wet and tight your cunt would be, how much of me you could take, I would never have let you walk out of my office at the casino.” He braced himself on the desk and began to fuck her with hard, hammering strokes. His hips pistoned back and forth, his powerful muscles bunching every time he surged forward, his cock driving her closer and closer to the edge.
“Maybe I should have made good my threat that night.” Her voice was hoarse, thick with desire.
“One touch and you would have been mine. You are mine, Mia. If I find you with another man, his screams will echo in the desert for years.” He shuddered, as if he was fighting for control. With a guttural groan, he hooked her leg around his shoulder and drove deep.
“Let go for me.” He slid his finger over her clit and her orgasm ripped through her body, a white-hot burst of pleasure that scorched her very soul. Nico hammered into her, drawing out her orgasm, until he stiffened and groaned, his cock pumping his release deep inside her.
He collapsed over her, taking his weight on his elbows. “You are so goddamn fucking sexy.” He nuzzled her neck, nibbled Mia’s ear. Still dazed from the roughest sex she had ever had, she stiffened, and he pulled away.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.” She ran her hand down his back, felt his powerful muscles ripple beneath her touch. It was hard to believe that she had just fucked a wiseguy after all her years of trying to distance herself from the mob. He was arrogant and controlling, ruthless and violent, and yet she’d glimpsed another side to him—the man behind the mobster, who was protective and caring and deeply passionate about the things that meant the most to him.
She felt no shame embracing her feminine side when she was with him, because he respected her and appreciated her strength. He made her want something she had never allowed herself to want before, to free the part of herself she had buried away when Danny died. She could see herself with him—a man who was not threatened by who she was or what she did. A man who could be in control but not control her. A man who could keep her safe. A man who had no fear of her family.
“If you’d told me the night I walked into your casino that we would end up here like this, I would have called you crazy.”
“I couldn’t decide what I wanted more that night,” he said, brushing a kiss over her temple. “You naked and on my desk or tied up and used as bait for your father.”
Guilt speared through her when he mentioned her father, bringing her to her senses. What would he do if she told him that Dante was the one who pulled the trigger? How could she continue this when she was keeping a secret from him that he would see as the ultimate betrayal?
Nico helped her up and turned to dispose of the condom. Mia scooted off the desk and pulled on her clothes. By the time she was done, Nico had dressed and was back to his impeccable self.
“What do we do now?” She stuffed her shredded panties into her purse, suddenly overcome with how reckless she had been. What would her father do if he knew she was consorting with the enemy? Or maybe he knew already.
“We do what all Italians do when there is a food waiting for them.” Nico pulled open the door. “We eat.”
FOURTEEN
Ben parked his vehicle and turned off the engine. His unscheduled meeting with Jack was four hours away. Jack had given no reason for the change in day, but Ben hoped it had something to do with the end of the assignment. In all his years undercover in the mob, he’d never seen craziness like what was going on right now. People were going to get hurt. Good people. People he cared about.
Until he’d joined the new crew, he would sit in his apartment with the TV blaring and a beer in his hand before his meetings with Jack. He would handwrite a report of all the criminal activity he’d witnessed in excruciating detail, listing names, locations, and descriptions—anything that might help the DA with the big case that never seemed to get off the ground. But tonight, he wasn’t in the mood. He hadn’t been in the mood for two fucking years.