Romanced by the Mafia: The Don's Wife

Chapter 10

I rush around the house, cleaning like I've never cleaned before. He had said he was on his way, but it had taken hours before he called me. He might have been a million miles away. He had private jets, helicopters, motorcycles, cars.

Why the hell am I cleaning the bathroom?

Oh right. Nerves. Sudden and insistent as his words echo in my mind again. Purring like a cat, soft and velvety. I shake my head, walking towards the living room.

I check my phone. Nothing yet. I bite my lip and head upstairs, turning on the shower. I get in, washing away the grime from my impromptu cleaning spree. When I step out, 20 minutes later, I put on my robe and turn on the closet light.

“Hello, Ina.” His voice is dark, and low, and I jump and scream.

“Damnit, Kieran!” My hand goes to my chest where my heart is pounding. He smirks, and laughs a little.

“Why so jumpy?” He says, standing and towering over me. “I noticed the house is very lemony fresh.” That damn smirk again, the one that brings out his dimples.

I clear my throat. “It needed cleaning. And because I didn't expect you, and you sat in the dark like a freaking troll.” He laughs again, and I stand there arms crossed, trying to be indignant.

“You were nervous cleaning.” His eyes look down at me, dark as a storm. “Why were you nervous, my little wife?”

He knows exactly why. The smug bastard. “Why did Selene call me on your phone?” I mentally kick myself as he takes a step back, raising a dark eyebrow. Why am I self-destructing?

He takes a deep breath. “She was trying to start trouble between us. Turns out the man she left me for is broke, gay, and left her six months ago.” A hand runs through his dark hair, moving it off his forehead. An old nervous habit. “She thought if she came back, played the harmless friend and victim card, it would work. She didn't anticipate that I would actually…Want to be with my contract wife.”

I take a breath, not realizing I had been holding one. Most men would have chosen their ex. Most men wouldn't have seen through her so quickly, or at all.

“Alright. Give me the full story, then.”

He shakes his head, backing me towards the wall. His hand comes up, leaning against the frame of the closet as I back up further. That damned smirk reappears.

“We have unfinished business, my little wife.” He says, voice smooth as velvet again. Did it always sound like that when he was turned on? I swallow hard.

Another hand is suddenly gripping my waist, pulling me closer. I can't even pretend to fight it.

His mouth crashes down on mine, and I forget how to breathe, forget I ever needed to. He cradles my head, tilting it back as his mouth opens over mine, tongue invading. It is every fantasy I have ever had about kissing this man. Or any man at all.

Then his body is pressed against mine, and I'm whimpering – What the f**k – while he kisses me like he's a man drowning and I am the only water in the desert.

When he finally pulls away, pupils wide and eyes half lidded, I'm breathing like I've been running a marathon. His hand has crept beneath my robe, and onto my thigh, sliding higher by the minute.

Nothing prepares me or ever prepared me, for his thick Irish brogue in my ear, whispering: “I bet you're already soaked, aren't you, anam cara?”

I gasp as he whispers, his hand sliding up to find my core just as wet as he predicted it would be. I moan softly against his ear, unable to stop myself as his fingers slip between my folds, and my hands clench on his shoulders.

“Kieran–” his name is a dark whisper, my voice smokey and soft, almost unrecognizable as my own. He moans against my throat, his lips on my pulse point as his fingers work me, making me gasp and whimper with each touch.

“Ina…” He whispers my name against my ear, and every nerve ending becomes electric. “Come for me sweetheart, I can feel you tensing around my fingers. So…fucking…tight…”

I moan again, coming almost on command as he growls the order in my ear, my nails biting into his shoulders as I gasp and come undone beneath his fingers.

He withdraws them, and I swallow my whimper at the sudden emptiness. He licks his fingers again, deliberate, slow, like he's savoring me. I swallow hard at the sight, trying not to come again at just the gesture. I bite my lip. His thumb comes up, tracing my lip, pulling it from between my teeth.

He opens my mouth further with that same thumb, and pushes his fingers inside my mouth. Those grey eyes nearly glow in the dark as he does. “Suck.”

The single word of command has me pressing my thighs together again. I do as he commands, gentle and needy as he touches my tongue and I taste myself there.

A low sound vibrated through his chest, his lips parting as he watches me. He takes his fingers away, replacing them with his mouth. Teeth, tongue, and that breathlessness again.

A few moments later and we're both panting, unable to catch our breaths. He presses his forehead against mine, one hand on my waist, and the other on my neck, just below my jaw. His thigh is working its way between my legs. “Inara. This will be your first time, right?”

I take a shaking breath, and nod. He curses softly, and my brows furrow. “Is that bad, Kieran?” I can hear the offended tone in my voice, how angry I sound.

He stills, his dark voice rumbling in his chest. “Why would that be bad, my girl? You've waited all this time for me.” His lips press against my pulse point, teeth grazing softly. “I was a fool.” He kisses again, and his thigh finally works between mine, the sudden friction there, letting me grind against him, makes me moan again.

There's another groan from him, low and dark and full of a need I've never heard from him. “Fuck..Inara…” He's making himself stay controlled, and for some reason that pisses me off.

I let my robe fall open slightly, my breast peeking out. I know my n*****s are hard. I felt the soft fabric scraping them when he started touching me. I want him as needy as I am. Not controlled. Not careful.

I see the moment he notices, his dark gaze fixing on the bud peeking from the fabric. There's a low curse, and then he's got his mouth on me, and I'm crying out again, grinding on his leg like it might keep me sane as my hands fist in his hair.

“Kieran…Please….” He feels so good. I don't even know precisely what I'm asking him for, but luckily he does. He lifts me effortlessly, carrying me to the bed, his mouth still on any exposed skin he can find.

He moves his dark head between my legs, his breath ghosting over me. "Beautiful," he growls, "and all mine."