"Yes. Yes. Yes."
He cupped my breasts, his breathing ragged. The moment he pinched my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, the single orgasm turned into two, then three.
"Fuck. Fuck!" I threw my head back, tightening my knees against his body and rode him hard and wild, moving in an erratic fashion. I wanted him to come. I needed him to fill me with his seed.
"So beautiful. A very bad girl." He twisted my hardened buds until the anguish was blinding but oh-so good.
I was as close to raw ecstasy as I'd ever been, wet and wild. As I heard his breathing changing once again, slight husky murmurs coming from the beast inside, I squeezed my pussy muscles.
He jerked up from the bed, the keening roar filtering into the room, the sound glorious. Just when I thought it was over, he flipped me, grinding his hips as he rested on his elbows. He remained silent, studying me, hovering over me as I drank in his spectacular masculine scent, full of testosterone and vigor.
There were so many questions I wanted to ask, so many reasons that I should demand answers, but the moment was almost special. I could feel his ragged breathing, his chest pressing down on mine. I could also see the wheels turning as if he was shutting off the emotion he'd allowed himself to feel.
And I'd been right.
He rolled off, moving to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, resting his head in his hands.
I remained where I was, uncertain of what to say or if I should say anything.
"You mentioned you had a sister," he said quietly.
The question came out of the blue. "My older sister Sasha."
"By all rights she should be the one marrying the asshole."
I was frozen for a few seconds, trying to figure out if I even wanted to admit the truth.
"My sister is dead. She has been for a few years."
He shifted only slightly as an acknowledgement to what I'd said. There was certainly no love lost for a man like him.
"She got in with the wrong crowd and didn't know how to keep her mouth shut," I continued, remembering the day my father had received the damning phone call. He hadn't been the same ever since.
"I am sorry to hear that." Michael kept his voice low. "Family is important."
"Were you ever close with your father?" I'd asked him before but quite frankly, hadn't believed him.
The huge sigh was haunting. "When I was little he was my world. I didn't care who or what he was. The man was larger than life."
"What changed?" I moved to a sitting position, curling my legs under me, but I kept my distance lest I spook him off.
"My mother was murdered by assholes hunting my father. The hit on my mother's life was... destructive. Something snapped within me. I realized that I could never have anything precious. I made a promise the day of her funeral that I would never love anyone. I couldn't stand the grief."
"That's terrible, Michael. I'm so sorry." I dared to place my hand on his arm. While he didn't jerk it away, I could feel the tension increasing.
"Part of doing business as a mafia Don, my father would say. Cold-hearted bastard. After that, I left his world and never looked back. Until now." He laughed bitterly.
"You still love him. I can tell."
He snapped his head in my direction. "Don't presume that because we've had sex that you know me, Francesca. Don't make that mistake. Ever."
The anger in his voice was gut-wrenching, but the cold look in his eyes sent a new round of shivers into every portion of my body. "I'm sorry. You're right. I don't know you at all."
After a few seconds, he exhaled. "I don't want to see him dead."
I decided to skip over the remark. "How do you know Vincenzo?"
He snorted. "He directed my last movie. I've known of him for years, the two of us sparring any time we were in close proximity. I knew who his father was, even though I didn't address the connection. Hiring Louis Saltori was completely my father's choice. It didn't matter to me."
"I'm certain Vincenzo simply wanted an expanded bank account."
"I wouldn't put anything past him."
I held my arms, the chill remaining. "I just don't understand why my father selected the Saltori family, other than if there'd already been plans in the works to take over your father's territory."
He turned his head once again, narrowing his eyes this time. Trust. He was trying to figure out if he could trust me. "That's what I suspect. An elaborate plan to bring the Saltoris into power."
"But why? Why would my father go along with it? It just doesn't make sense."
"That's what we need to find out and I plan on doing so. Are you certain you want to know the answer?"
I hadn't thought about a question of this nature. If dirt was found on my father, that would gut me, but I had to know. "I want to know everything. I don't like your methods, but you were backed into a corner."
He chuckled and moved to a standing position, walking toward the window and peering out. "My methods. I have no methods at this point. This might be in my blood, but I don't eat, sleep, and drink mafia work. Rest assured that I will get to the bottom of what happened and who's really behind this scheme. When I do..."
While he allowed the words to trail off, he didn't need to complete the sentence. He'd made up his mind. What motive could my father have? This couldn't be about money. He was rigid, scanning the area outside the window. The man was anticipating a hit on his life. My God. This had gotten so out of hand.
"What does your father have to gain with the Massimos?"