Right now, I don’t care about the decision I have to make about Franco and me. I just can’t bear to be alone.
He’s the only person I feel safe with.
My nerves are frayed, and I’m so tired I can’t deal with anything else.
“How do you want to do this?” Franco asks me.
My eyes drift over his features that look like they’re carved from stone. I can see he’s struggling to keep his anger at bay so he doesn’t upset me.
God. Todd tried to kill me.
As the realization hits me again, my stomach churns, and I feel ill.
Franco tilts his head, and his eyes are filled with concern as he murmurs, “Baby?”
Right. He asked me a question.
I glance at the shower before looking at him again. “I don’t know.” My chin starts to tremble. “I can’t think straight.”
Franco wraps his arms around me and presses a kiss to my temple. “I’m going to shower with you. It’s nothing sexual. Okay? I just want to clean you up so you can climb into bed and get some rest.”
My mind is filled with the trauma I suffered, and I just need Franco to take control until I’m better.
I nod, and the word quivers over my lips as I say, “Okay.”
“Stop me if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
I nod again, and when he grips the hem of my blouse and lifts the fabric, I raise my arms so he can take it off.
Slowly, I become aware of how badly my body is shivering from the horror I was subjected to. While Franco unbuttons my pants, I focus on calming the shivering.
I step out of my ballet flats, and when he crouches in front of me, I place my hand on his shoulder so I can keep my balance as he pulls my pants off.
Standing in my underwear, I look at the bandage around my left hand before my attention is drawn to Franco.
Raising to his full height, I watch as he unbuttons his dark teal-colored vest. He shrugs it off and drops it on my pile of clothes before he removes his gun from behind his back, setting it down on the counter.
When he works on undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, I get glimpses of his chest.
I don’t even realize my mind’s growing quiet as I watch him undress.
When he drops his shirt on the floor, my eyes roam his muscled chest. The words ‘I will not kneel before anyone’ are tattooed across his pecks, and there are two interlinked stars over his heart.
My voice is soft as I ask, “What do the stars mean.”
“They’re for my parents.”
As he pulls down the zipper of his pants, my eyes lower to the six-pack carved into his skin, and even in my shocked and frazzled state, I can’t help but admire his body.
He’s pure muscle and golden skin.
Franco keeps his boxers on, and after he checks the temperature of the water, he takes my hand and pulls me into the shower.
The warm water quickly wets my hair as it rains down on me, and I let out a sigh of relief as it runs down my body.
“Your hand. The bandage will get wet,” Franco says. He takes hold of my hips and positions me so my left arm isn’t directly beneath the spray.
Feeling his hands on my skin, my eyes dart to his face and our eyes lock. The connection between us is so strong it forces the trauma to the back of my mind.
As I stare at him, every argument I’ve had with myself over the past three weeks feels stupid.
Suddenly, it doesn’t matter that he’s one of the heads of the Cosa Nostra. He’s shown me I’m safe with him.
He’s proven he loves me by being patient and supportive.
He loves me, and not in a destructive way.
He cares about my feelings.
The list grows longer and longer until the certainty that he’s the right man for me fills every part of my heart and soul.
“Are you okay?” he asks when I just keep staring at him.
Nodding, I place my hand on his chest while I push myself up on my tiptoes.
Just as I’m about to kiss him, he says, “You’re just been through hell, baby.”
“Keep still so I can kiss you,” I demand.
The corner of his mouth twitches, but his eyes are still filled with worry.
“I want this,” I whisper against his lips.
He lowers his head so I don’t have to stand on my toes, and I wrap my right arm around his neck.
With our breaths mingling, I say, “I’ve made my decision.”
His eyes search mine for the answer. “Yeah?”
“I want a relationship with you.” Slowly, a smile forms on my face. “I want my mystery man.”
Relief fills his eyes, and his arms wrap around me.
“And I want you, Mr. Vitale.”
My words make his eyes darken with emotion, and seeing how much my words affect him, I add, “I want all of you.”
“Even the mafia part?”
Nodding, I say, “Yes.”
The hottest smile I’ve ever seen forms on his face. “Do you forgive me, baby?”
“Yes.”
The word gets smothered by his mouth while he pulls me flush with his chest.
His tongue traces the seam of my lips, and I open for him. As our mouths express our feelings, his hand covers my side where my tattoo is.
The kiss deepens, and I’m swept away to a world where there’s only Franco and me.
I lose track of time as our lips knead and our tongues memorize a dance that’s only ours.
Only when my mouth is tingling from all the friction does Franco break the kiss. He turns off the faucets before taking hold of my hips and lifting me against his body.
I quickly wrap my legs around his waist, and as he carries me to the bed, I feel his hard cock brush against my butt through his wet boxers.
He places his knee on the bed and gently lowers me to the covers. His eyes drift over my face, and seeing the love he has for me makes my heart feel complete.
It feels as if I was placed on this planet to be his.
“Are you sure, baby?” he asks.
Trailing my fingers over the stubble covering his jaw, I whisper, “I’ve never been more sure in my life.”
“Do I need to use a condom?”
I shake my head. “I’m on the pill.”
Franco is so considerate it makes me love him even more.
Pushing his hand behind my back, he unsnaps my bra and tugs it away from my chest.
His gaze lowers to my breasts, and I watch as his irises darken with desire while an expression of awe tightens his features.
He brings a hand to my right breast and softly brushes his thumb over my nipple before his palm covers me.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs. “So fucking perfect.”
Lowering his head, his tongue darts out and swipes over my other nipple before he sucks it into his mouth.
My back arches, and placing my right hand behind his neck, I moan, “Harder.”
He sucks and bites my nipple until I’m writhing on the bed.
I’m going to orgasm just from him devouring my breasts.
“Franco,” I whimper.
His hand massages my other breast, and his fingers tweak and tug at my nipple.
My abdomen tightens, and tilting my head back, moans and whimpers fall over my lips.
His teeth pull at my sensitive skin, and his eyes flick to my face.
It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and it sends me over the edge.
My body convulses while my pussy feels neglected and in desperate need of his cock.
