Pursued By My Mafia Husband

Chapter 9

Cassian

There she is. My eyes travel over the gut-wrenching perfection of her curves beneath the sheet, her red hair spilling like rubies over her pillow in a pool of white moonlight from the window.

I relax my clenched fist as she stirs. She lets a breathy little moan that has me hard as steel again.

She’s yours, comes the thought, unbidden. Make her yours for real.

I hesitate. I’ve never even come to her room before this. I gave her the money to decorate it, but I’ve never seen it.

I’m surprised how much I like it. It’s filled with jewel tones and little trinkets on shelves. I expect them to be expensive, but they’re mostly just interesting little things. Shells, pretty rocks, pressed leaves and flowers.

I didn’t even know she liked to collect little things like this.

As my eyes explore the walls of her darkened room, Gemma sighs and sits up in bed.

She inhales sharply when she sees me and pulls the covers up over her chest. “Cassian? What are you doing here?”

Her breasts practically spill out of the tank top she’s wearing. I fold my arms across my chest and bite back a groan of desire. “I…heard you were on the flight.”

“You…heard?” she says, obviously still half-asleep. “I thought you assigned—”

“I came in to make sure you’re all right.” I take a few steps closer so I can see her better. In the moonlight, she might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Against my better judgment, I sit on the edge of her bed.

This room smells like her. Feminine and delicate.

“Wait…” she says sleepily. “Are you…worried about me?”

She turns toward me and leans in. Her eyes are heavy with sleep. My hand brushed her cheek before I could stop myself. She jolted awake, eyes wide with confusion as she looked at me.

My first instinct is to grab her hand and snarl at her.

But I don’t.

After realizing how much danger she was in today…

I want her to touch me.

I want to feel for myself that she’s all right.

*****

Gemma

I’m so sleepy, I don’t even realize I’m touching him until he presses his hand against mine and moves it up his hard stomach to his chest.

“Gemma…” His voice is rough. Am I dreaming?

But somehow, I know this isn’t a dream. Even when I think it must be, because he yanks me close and bends his head to mine.

For the first time, Cassian kisses me.

My heart trembles, and my body immediately bursts into fire and need. His hands are rough on my face, in my hair, against my back, pulling me against him.

“You weren’t supposed to be on that flight today,” he says. He pushes me back, and his body is over mine in the bed.

He pauses, holding himself over me—back from me, and I can see he’s shaking, and it’s taking all of his strength. His eyes bore into mine, and he says, “I’m going to f**k you, Gemma. Tell me you want this.”

My breath catches. Even though he says it as a command, I know it’s a question. I know I could say no.

But I do want this. I’ve wanted it every day for so long.

“I want this,” I whisper breathlessly.

He kisses me again. His hand cups my cheek, then slides down to my breast. I gasp as he squeezes, pleasure rocketing to my core.

I’m a virgin. I’ve never felt anything like this.Since I’ve already decided to leave, why not enjoy Cassian’s body a little? After all, I’ve played his obedient wife for three years. I’ve liked him for so long—f**k it, I want him.

He was this worried about me?

I try to hold on to the thought, but I can’t. His lips are on my jaw, my neck. He tears open my nightgown and starts to feast on my breasts, sucking my n*****s into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the sensitive, aching tips.

“Cassian!” I’m mindless with need. I bury my fingers in his hair and arch up, grinding against him. I don’t even know what my body is searching for, but he does.

He parts my thighs and settles between them, and I want to weep at how good it feels to have his hard length press against my s*x.

We should talk about this, but we don’t. He tears off my clothes and explores my body, doing things to me and making me feel things I didn’t even know I could feel.

He’s driving me mad. I buck and squirm and feel like I’m chasing something that he’s keeping just out of reach.

“Cassian, please!” I half-sob. “I don’t know…I need…I need…”

Then his fingers slide between my legs, between my slick, wet folds, and they find the exact right spot.

I come apart, screaming his name as pleasure beyond anything I ever could have imagined rips through me, shreds me, and then puts me back together.

All this time, we could have been doing this? What was he thinking, sleeping in a different room?

“That was amazing,” I breathe, but my brow furrows. I might be a virgin, but I’m not stupid. “But what about you?”

He strokes my face, looking at me. Despite what he’s done to me, what he’s still doing, there’s something guarded in his eyes. I feel a chill of misgiving.

But he says, “We aren’t finished yet. I’m not finished.”

Then he stands and takes off his own clothing. His body is glorious in the moonlight, every plane and line like carved marble.

I feel nervous as he climbs back into the bed and nudges my thighs apart with his knees. He’s so big, I don’t know if I can handle him.

Then he kisses me again, and even though I thought I was done…I’m not. As soon as he touches me, I start to feel that aching tension down between my legs that only he can release.

I cry out as he slides one finger inside me, then another. Testing me. Stretching me. His mouth dips to my breast, and I cry out as his thumb finds my c**t and he slowly works his fingers in and out.

I let out a wordless sound of pleasure.

“f**k, you’re so wet,” he moans. Then his eyes lock onto mine.

“Tell me you’re ready for me, Gemma. Tell me you want me to f**k you.”

“I want it…” But suddenly I’m nervous.

Before we were married, Cassian was famous for being a playboy. He’s probably been with dozens of sexy, experienced women.

And there’s no way he’s stayed faithful to me for the last three years. A man like Cassian would never deprive himself of s*x to be loyal to a wife he hates.

Like he can sense my tension, he pulls back. “What is it?”

I lick my lips. “I… I don’t know how to do this. I won’t be like the women you’re used to…”

“Used to?” Something dangerous flashes in his eyes.

He bends and kisses my jaw and scrapes his teeth along my neck. He works my body in a way that makes me cry out, the pleasure almost punishing.

His lips brush my ear and he whispers, “How many women do you think I’ve had in the last three years, Gemma? Guess.”