Page 27 of Falling for the Mafia Dom
“That’s a really, um, nice offer,” I stammer, “But I’m going to decline.”
“I get it,” he smiles at my slyly, “You like to be a tease. Pretend you don’t want it. I can work with that.”
“Listen,” my tone lowers and I’m about to tell him off and cause a scene when his demeanor changes.
“Never mind,” he blurts out as he quickly gets up from his stool, “I was just playing around.”
I’m going to kill you, Lyla.
Standing from my stool, I smooth out my dress and mentally shake off the feeling of the creep. Grabbing both of the drinks, I begin to scan the crowd looking for any signs of Lyla or Tristan.
“What are you doing here,piccolo fiore?” I still at the familiar deep voice rumbling from immediately behind me. His warm hand can be felt through the thin fabric of my dress when he places it against my side. The moment I feel his touch, my breath hitches. Closing my eyes, I swallow hard before trying to exhale.
His hand slowly slides over my hip, his warmth leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The racing of my heart increases with every inch he delicately caresses. His fingers splay as his hand spreads across my stomach, and I gasp when he uses it to quickly pull me backward until I’m flush with his chest.
His warm, bourbon scented breath blows over my ear as he whispers, “This isn’t a place for good little girls like you.”
Good little girl…
Those words make me feel like I am on fire.
His right hand still on my stomach holding me tightly against him, his left snakes around me and spreads just below my throat. My heart is pounding in my chest as he continues to speak quietly against my ear, “You shouldn’t be here.”
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
“If you’re going to be here,” the words grumble against my neck, “You’re going to be here with me.”
“Sal…” His name trembles from my lips. “Just a few days ago you made it very clear how you felt about me.”
“Apparently not,” his voice is gruff as he releases me, “And I’m not asking Ellie. If you are here, you are here with me.”
Slowly turning to face him, his brows pinch together when he continues to speak to me, “I’m not willing to let any other man in here lay a finger on you,piccolo fiore.”
As much as I want to argue and decline his demands, I can’t, and I remain rooted in place.
ChapterTwenty
SALVATORE
Watching Ellie from across the room, I see red when that piece of shit, fake Dom puts his hands on her. Approaching the two of them, and seeing her obvious discomfort, I am fully prepared to end his life for even having the audacity to think he was worthy of touching her.
I’m not fucking worthy of touching her.
My hand trails down her arm before slowly taking one of the drinks from her. I place her hand in the crook of my elbow and walk her to my table on the other side of the room. Sitting at the table are Dmitriy Andreyev and three of Tristan’s business partners. Two of the men have beautiful, young women sitting on their laps.
Placing the drink on the table, I pull out my chair and sit. Ellie takes a step toward the empty seat on the other side of the table, and I grab her wrist to pull her backward into my lap. She lands with a soft grunt before shifting uncomfortably. It may be unintentional, but she repeatedly brushes over my cock.
“Sit still, Ellie,” my hand glides down her spine and to her hip. Gripping it firmly, I slide her body higher on my thigh and hold her tight against me. “We both know this is exactly where you want to be.”
Watching her chest heave with every breath she takes, I try to discern whether they are increasing out of hatred or desire.
Maybe both.
“We both know this isn’t where you want me,” her voice is tinged with anger.
“You’re right. This isn’t where I want you at all,” my lips graze over her ear, “But I’m not fighting this tonight,piccolo fiore.”
It’s not a lie.
