“I do.” He sets the alarm on the black coupe, placing a hand at the small of my back and ushering me forward. “I spend my weekends here and any lengthy amount of time I have off.”
If I thought my jaw couldn’t drop any lower, I was wrong—so wrong. Braxton ushers me through a door which leads us right into the kitchen. A pang of jealousy shoots through me as I take in the Italian inspired kitchen. A mix of granite countertops and wood cupboards, stainless steel appliances. It feels homey, and not at all what I expected Braxton’s home to feel like.
I was expecting dark colors, and clean, sleek lines found in most modern furniture and homes. I was expecting his home to match the person he portrays to the world – cold and calculating. I was not expecting this.
Home. My brain screams, and I have to mentally shake the thought away.
Strong arms wrap around my waist, backing me into a countertop, fingers gripping my hips as Braxton lifts and sets me down on said countertop, stepping between my legs. The dress making it nearly impossible. A growl reverberates through his chest, his fingers pulling at the neckline until it rips all the way down, bearing my breasts to his gaze, and then my stomach. And finally, the rip meets the high slit and the dress falls away landing on the counter behind me.
I’m not even mad. I should be. I should be furious. That dress cost me almost a whole paycheck, but that… that was fucking hot, and as I make a mental note to wear something else that will make him lose control like that again, Braxton’s hands find my bare hips, pulling me to the edge of the counter, his lips finding that sensitive spot below my ear that sends shivers down my spine every damn time.
“I need to feel you wrapped around me, Klara. Been too long, Mia Bella.”
His one hand sprawls against my back holding me in place while his other dips behind my panties, his fingers finding my clit, starting a sensual rhythm. I moan, trying to get closer, trying to find the friction I need, the friction I crave from him.
In one swift move, Braxton tears through my panties leaving me in nothing but my bra. His fingers finding my hips again in a bruising grip.
“Going to take you hard and fast, Mia Bella. Need to feel this pussy gripping my cock.”
I nod. Braxton lifts me from the counter and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist. He spins us, my back hitting the cold steel of the fridge hard, his hand undoing his belt and zipper one minute and the next he’s pushing into me.
One hand supporting me under my ass, the other wrapped around my throat, Braxton pounds into me. His thrusts getting harder and faster as each minute ticks by. I’m not sure how much longer I can last like this. With every thrust his cock brushes my g-spot. The hand around my throat tightens a fraction, his lips capturing mine in a hard kiss. When his teeth sink into my bottom lip I can’t hold back anymore, my pussy clenches so hard around him when I come that Braxton’s thrusts falter for a second before they’re back to their bruising pace. Several thrusts later, he grunts when he finds his own release. His hand falling away from my throat, his arms wrapping securely around me and carrying me to a nearby bathroom.
Braxton deposits me onto a bathroom counter. He steps away only long enough to turn the water on in the shower and get undressed. My body is so tired that I allow him to pick me up again and carry me into the shower with him. Braxton spends the next ten minutes washing every inch of my skin, paying careful attention to the area between my thighs. His fingers massaging my scalp as he washes my hair cause my lids to flutter closed, my body swaying under his gentle touch.
He rinses us both off, carrying me out of the shower stall again and gently standing me up on the soft bathroom floor mat. I watch under heavy lids as Braxton grabs a towel, lowers to his knees and starts drying me off, his lips following the path of the towel up my body. When they reach the apex of my thighs, he sucks on my clit until my legs begin to buckle under me. Steadying me with one hand he continues his lazy kisses up my stomach, sucking each nipple into his mouth, placing a kiss between my breasts, up my collarbone, at the curve of my neck, along my jaw. By the time he reaches my lips I feel high from all the attention he’s showing my body.
Without a word, Braxton dries himself off then tosses the towel over the glass door of the shower, swoops me up and carries me into the joining bedroom. He doesn’t let go of my body while he pulls the comforter down, lays us both on the bed and pulls the comforter back up over us, his hands gripping my hips again to pull my back snugly into his front cocooning me between his hard chest and his arm draped over me.
“Braxton –”
“I’m sorry, Klara,” he says before I can get any words out. When I try to turn around, his arm tightens keeping me in place. “Sleep,” he commands.
But sleep doesn’t come. Instead I lie awake, staring into the dark room, wondering if he’ll be gone again in the morning just like last time.
SLEEP MUST’VE COME for me sometime in the middle of the night because as I roll onto my back, warm sunlight streams through the floor to ceiling window, but the spot where Braxton slept last night is cold. Frustration and disappointment flood through me that I don’t immediately notice the smell of coffee and bacon in the air.
Thinking Braxton may have gotten up earlier to make us breakfast has me jumping out of bed and shrugging into his dress shirt from last night. Padding out of the room still doing up the buttons, I don’t immediately notice that it’s not Braxton standing over the pan of sizzling bacon.
When I finally do lift my head, I’m greeted by a woman who must be in her early sixties. Hair as dark as Braxton’s with streaks of grey frame a tanned face. But where Braxton’s eyes are dark, hers are a deep blue.
“Ah, there you are. Braxton said not to wake you, but I thought you may be hungry once you awoke. Come, sit.” She motions toward the breakfast bar and I take seat across from her, still not understanding who she is or why she’s in his home. “Here,” she says placing a heaping plate full of bacon, eggs, breakfast potatoes, and toast in front of me. “Eat. You’re too thin,” she tsks.
“Ma.”
The sound of his voice coming from behind me startles me and I almost drop the fork I picked up a moment ago. When I crane my neck around, Braxton is leaning against the entryway to the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest, his feet crossed at his ankles, a small grin tugging at his full lips. Black dress pants slung low on his hips, a white dress shirt hanging open at his sides. I have to try really hard not to whimper at the sight of him.
“Don’t Ma me,” the woman admonishes, hands on her hips. “You told me not to wake her. I didn’t wake her. Not my fault she can’t resist the smell of my coffee any more than you can.”
At the sound of coffee, I perk up trying to look over her shoulder to see where the coffeemaker’s at, at the same time a big steaming mug is thrust in front of me. Braxton chuckles as I graciously thank his mom and accept the mug of caffeine goodness from her.
“I thought you had somewhere to be today, Ma.” Braxton places a hand on my lower back as he claims the stool next to mine. His hand never leaving my body as he accepts his own coffee from his mother.
“Braxton De Luca, have you no manners? Aren’t you going to introduce me to your girl?” She glares at him, quirking an eyebrow and causing me to almost choke on the hot liquid. Braxton makes the exact same facial expression when he challenges me.
Beside me, he sighs, running his hand up and down my back in a soothing gesture. Soothing me from what I have no idea. I’m loving this little interaction between him and his mother.
“Ma, this is Klara. Klara, this is my Ma.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. De Luca.” I try extending a hand out for her to shake but she ignores it, instead coming around the breakfast bar to pull me into a crushing hug.
“Call me Ma. After all, it must be serious between you and my son if he’s bringing you to this house.”
“Ma,” Braxton warns, but she ignores him, keeping her blue eyes trained on me.
“Be
good to him, yeah?” Her eyes search mine and I swallow hard. “Don’t hurt my boy,” she adds only loud enough for me to hear, but words fail me. What do I even begin to say to that? That he has the potential to hurt me worse than I could him. That I’m already halfway in love with her son after only spending two days with him, and it has nothing to do with him being my first sexual partner, because I’m pretty sure I was halfway in love with him before we had sex. I do the only thing I can and nod.
She must approve of whatever she sees in my eyes because she pulls me in for another hug before stepping back and letting me go.
“Antonio is driving me to the airport,” she says reaching for a suitcase I missed standing by the door to the garage.
“Ma, I told you I could’ve driven you.” Braxton glares at his mother, his jaw ticking.
“Yes, and I told you that I didn’t need you to drive me. Plus, you have company.” She glances between us, a slow smile pulling at the corners of her lips.
Braxton sighs, running a hand through his disheveled hair and sliding off the stool to hug his mother. “Have fun in Sicily.” He places a peck on her cheek and then she’s gone.
With his full attention now on me I feel like running after her and telling her not to go. Heat blazes behind his eyes when he takes in the shirt I’m wearing. The dress shirt barely covers my thighs with the way I’m sitting on the barstool.
I gulp, watching the way his muscle tense with each stride he takes closer to me. His hands slip under the shirt, moving it up as his fingers inch up my thighs, my hips. Then he suddenly stops. Confused, I glance down. Small finger-shaped bruises decorate my hips from where his fingers dug into me last night.
“Braxton.” My voice is barely above a whisper when he places his hands on either side of my face, moving my hair back from my nape. His brows furrow when he takes in the bruises along my throat, too.
He nuzzles into me, kissing the hollow of my neck. “I’m so fucking sorry, Klara. I should never have been so rough with you last night.”
“W-What are you talking about?” I try to move back but he holds me in place.
“I should never have marked you like that. I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry.”
“Don’t.” I shove him away but he’s so strong, so solid that he doesn’t waver. “I liked it, Braxton. I liked your fingers gripping my hips, leaving little marks. I liked your hand around my throat. I like knowing that you left your mark on me.”
I can feel his head shaking but he still refuses to lift his head and meet my eyes.
“I. Liked. It,” I reiterate. How does he not know this? He made me come so freaking hard I thought I was going to black out. I never thought I would like anything as rough as what we had done last night, but I did, and it just made me want him even more.
Braxton finally pulls himself away from the crook of my neck. My stomach falls from the look of pain on his face.
“Told you I’m no good for you, Mia Bella.” He drops his hands, stepping away. His features going cold. “My driver will take you back to your apartment. Goodbye, Klara.” His gaze rakes up me again like he’s trying to remember everything about me. Braxton turns and I watch the way his muscles move at his back until he walks into what must be an office off the long hallway and shuts the door.
I should be relieved. Braxton De Luca is a wreck waiting to happen. He thinks I don’t know that he can’t possibly be good for me, but I do. I know. I see the darkness swirling around him. I see the cold, calculating man behind his eyes. I caught a glimpse of something sinister lurking in the shadows when he fucked me rough last night. Every inch of my body has told me to run in the opposite direction and run far whenever he’s in the same room. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, signaling danger. But instead of running, I want to get closer. The monster lurking beneath the surface has my curiosity piqued. I don’t know what that says about me. I should be relieved that he let me go, then why am I disappointed?
Because despite my lack of experience with relationships or anything sexual, I want Braxton. I want him to mark me, to own me, to make me his in whichever way he deems fit. But this… this running away every time his conscience tells him he’s no good for me isn’t going to fly. And I’m calling bullshit.
“Miss.”
My eyes snap to the guy wearing a black three-piece suit standing at the door to the garage and waiting patiently for me to gather my things. I hold up my hand in a ‘give me a sec’ gesture and make my way to the room Braxton disappeared into.
Not bothering to knock, I try the handle surprised that it isn’t locked, and push my way through the door.
“You can’t just walk–”
I swallow the rest of my words when four sets of eyes turn my way. Followed by three sets of smirks. Braxton’s lips pull into a thin line, his jaw ticking and I know, I just know, that I’m in so much trouble. “I, uh, didn’t know you had company. I’m sorry. I’ll just…” I start backing toward the door.
“No need. We were just finishing up,” the guy at the far end says, standing up, and I have to crane my neck because, damn he’s tall. And built. Thick corded muscle barely encased in the black shirt he’s wearing, a leather jacket hanging from his hand. Long jean covered legs and combat boots on his feet. Grey eyes stare back at me and his smirk grows into a grin when he realizes I’m staring. I swallow hard recognition dawning that he’s the guy who barged into the office that night at the club.
A throat clears, and heat travels up my cheeks when I realize that Braxton just caught me staring at his friend, but Hulk doesn’t waver in his own perusal of me.
“Alessandro.” Braxton’s voice is thick with warning.
Hulk chuckles, walking toward me, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. He stops next to me, his body within inches of mine. One thick finger trails down the side of my face, down my neck. A growl sounds from my left but Hulk doesn’t remove his finger. Instead he leans down, his breath warm against my cheek. “Give him hell, baby girl.” I shiver at the deepness of his voice.
“Swear to Christ, Alessandro. I’ll remove that hand if you don’t remove it from her.”
Another man, this one just as tall, but not as built as Hulk steps forward, clapping him on the shoulder. His blue eyes twinkling in amusement as he looks from me to Hulk and then over to Braxton. His inky black hair shining in the bright sunlight streaming through the floor to ceiling window. “C’mon, Alex. Leave the poor girl alone.” He tips his head. “Antonio,” he says, proffering his hand for me to shake.
“Klara.” I slip mine in his, but instead of a shake he grips my hand, turning it over and pulling it to his mouth to place a soft kiss close to my knuckles.
“Enough,” Braxton barks, pushing up from his seat behind the large desk, making his way to my side and throwing an arm around my shoulders, pulling me back from Alessandro and Antonio. “You fuckers need to get out before I kill you.”
The two men chuckle, moving out of Braxton’s reach and away from me. “Awh, c’mon, Boss. Just having some fun.”
Braxton glares at them mumbling something about no respect then tips his chin toward the third man who hasn’t moved from his seat in one of the chairs facing the desk. “The only fucker I wouldn’t have to kill is Giovanni. At least someone in this room still has respect.”
Giovanni.
His eyes move from Braxton to me and I stop breathing. Cold, dead eyes glare at me from under thick dark lashes. Everything about him screams for me to not get close, to take cover behind Braxton or Antonio, or hell, even Alessandro. I wonder if Braxton sees it, too. Then he blinks and it’s gone. Replaced by idle amusement at the scene in front of him and my reaction to him.
“Ciao.” He pushes up from the chair, walking around us. Only stopping once he’s halfway through the door and looks over his shoulder. “Let’s go get this over with.”
Antonio and Alessandro nod, following him out and I feel like I can breathe a little easier. That is until Braxton spins me into him, backing me
up until the backs of my knees hit the desk.
“Did you like their hands on you, Mia Bella? Did you like Alessandro’s touch or the way his breath skated across your skin?”
A hand wraps around my loose hair, tugging my head back and forcing my face up to his. “Did you like Antonio’s mouth on you?”
His hand runs down my side, inching up the men’s dress shirt I still have on, gripping my hip and pushing his into mine. His rigid length brushing against my belly. I moan.
“Do you want them, Mia Bella?” His teeth sink into my jaw, his tongue running along the same spot trying to sooth the sting. “Do you want their touch?”
“N-No. I want your touch, Brax. Only yours,” I pant.
“Good answer.” His grips my throat, fingers digging into my cheeks. “Now, I’m going to show you what happens when you interrupt a meeting.” He lets go, stepping back and unbuckling his belt. “Get on your knees, Mia Bella.”
I do as I’m as told, watching as Braxton undoes his zipper and slides his dress pants down to his ankles, followed by his boxer-briefs. He palms his thick dick, slowly stroking up and down the long length. “Going to fuck that sweet mouth, Mia Bella.”
He reaches down, his thumb running across my bottom lip. “Been dreaming of these lips wrapped around my cock.” He grips my chin in one hand, the other running the head of his cock across my lips making me open for him.
I’ve never sucked anyone off before. Not from lack of begging from previous boyfriends but I just never felt the desire to. Truth be told, until meeting Braxton I never wanted to. I was firmly in the ‘I’d rather receive than give’ group. Call me selfish but it was what it was. But now, after meeting Braxton, I want to do whatever it takes to please him. I want to make him happy, to see him come undone because of me.
I lick up his length, flicking the tip of my tongue up the slit before wrapping my lips around the head of his cock and taking him in my mouth. Braxton grunts when my nose hits his pelvis, the entire length of his cock buried down my throat. Courtesy of having my tonsils removed when I was little.
Dark Desire (Famiglia Book 1) Page 6
