Virgin: A Mafia Billionaire Romance

by Shanna Handel

  I push my plate away, entranced in his story. “What do you mean, found you?”

  “He has an insider. A guard that works for the brotherhood. He keeps an eye out for guys like me—ones that understand that laws are sometimes meant to be broken. That caring for people comes before being a good citizen. Guys that have anger, hatred inside them for the wealthy who steal from the beggars, such as the pharmaceutical giants that killed my sister.”

  “And he came to visit you?”

  “He did. Several times. Telling me more about the brotherhood and the Parish each time he came. I was hooked. And after losing my sister, I knew I couldn’t go home. It would be too painful. He got me out, I came here. Started working for him and quickly became his right-hand man. I send money home every month. It helps my family, my village. But—the money doesn’t do anything for me, not now that it’s too late to save my sister.”

  “My God. I can’t...” There are no words. Nothing that can be said to heal his heart. Take away the pain from his past.

  “I was so angry... when she died. That’s when I started my journal. To channel those emotions. I take them and turn them into poems. Stupid, I know.”

  I put my hand over his.

  His gaze rises to meet mine.

  “It’s not, I promise.”

  Every moment I spend with Dante, I peel back another layer of his depth. Now I want to comfort him.

  Hesitantly, I lean forward and kiss him.

  And he kisses me back. It’s a deep, hungering kiss. As if he wants to connect, to feel something. To lose himself in someone.

  To lose himself in me.

  As I kiss him, I know with certainty—I’m falling for Dante.

  * * *

  Dante

  I’ve never told anyone in the Parish about my sister, other than my right-hand man, Nicholas. He has such an easy way about him, he’s the only one who can draw any facts about my old life from me. Not that we brothers spend much time gabbing about our past lives, but still. Sophia’s memory is too special to share. Her story too painful to tell.

  My little sister. A bright eight-year-old. As fiery as they come. Sweet when she wanted to be. Strong... always. But not strong enough to beat the rare form of cancer that destroyed her insides. Vicious cells dividing faster than the medicine could attack them.

  The day I found out she died, my heart went with her, taking wings and flying off beside her tiny soul.

  I have no idea why I told Adrianna the truth. About my incarceration. About my sister. But, after she kissed me, the words flowed like water. I told her of home. My family. My village before the Parish. My teenage dreams of one day going to America.

  And now, I’m making New York City my home.

  Where I’ll live a few houses down from her.

  Adrianna.

  She, like her name, is beautiful. But it’s not her looks that draw the details of my past from my lips.

  It’s... her.

  Whatever that essence, that spirit, the soul that lives within that makes her, her. It has me sharing my story. Stealing her virginity. Making me think of her all hours of the day. True, we are here, locked alone together. But I know my infatuation runs deeper than proximity.

  I already fear the time when we are living in the Village and she finds the man she has been hoping for.

  When I am released as her protector in the hierarchy.

  I’m dreading the day. And we haven’t even left Greek soil yet.

  I clear the plates. Tell her to go enjoy her book when she offers to help. I assure her I’m fine—I need the space.

  And she understands. Gives me a soft smile and retreats to her chair.

  I wash the dishes, hoping to clear my mind with every wipe of the rag.

  It doesn’t work.

  I can’t stop glancing over at her. Curled up in that chair, looking so at home. Nose buried in the book, a small smile of amusement on her face.

  She’s like a magnet.

  I find myself wandering into the living room. I stand casually by my bookshelf, scanning the spines. Nothing appeals to me. Nothing could possibly hold my attention with her in the room. I open the cabinet below the shelves. Pull out Scrabble.

  “Wanna play?” I ask, holding the game out toward her.

  She looks up from her book. “Sure. I have to warn you—I’m an animal. I’ve had all the obscure two-letter words memorized for years.” She dog-ears the page, putting the novel down on the end table. Wrapping the blue velvet throw around her shoulders, she drags it behind her and takes a seat on the floor in front of the coffee table. She’s adopted the blanket as her own.

  I sit opposite her, cross my legs and open the box. “Thanks for the heads up but I have to admit I play a mean game as well. And I can be pretty competitive.”

  “As can I.” Her dark eyes flash at me in a challenge. The look causes blood to rush right to my cock. Leaving me no room in my mind to continue to deny how she affects me.

  I clear my throat, adjusting my legs beneath me. “We’ll see.”

  She immediately takes over turning the tiles upside down and shuffling them on the top of the coffee table. Her brow knits in the most adorable way, the tip of her pink tongue sticking out between her lips as she concentrates.

  “Serious business? Prepping the tiles?” I feel lighter than I have in years. I smile.

  “Can’t have you doing it. You’re a hardened criminal. Who knows if you’d cheat and peek?” she looks up, flashing me a grin. “Why don’t you build us a fire already? I can handle setting up.”

  I raise a brow. “Please?”

  She pouts her lovely lips at me. “Pretty please with a cherry on top, build us a fire?”

  “Better.” I stand, stretching my legs. I leave her to organize the game as she will. I take my time, cleaning the ashes, laying the kindle, arranging the wood. Soon, I have a beautiful crackling fire burning. I return to the coffee table where she’s got the game ready.

  She’s already picked her tiles.

  I sit back down. There’s a wooden tray waiting for me to place my tiles in it. “How do I know you didn’t cheat? You, after all, are a spoiled brat.”

  She holds her hand up, index finger pointing at the sky. “Spoiled. Not a brat. There’s a big difference, you know.”

  “You’re right. You’re not a brat at all.” In fact, though she’s been cared for, doted on, pampered, there’s really nothing spoiled about her either. She’s quite pleasant. But I don’t tell her that. She’s too fun to tease.

  I take my tiles. An X, Z, Q, and four I’s. Bad luck.

  She smiles broadly, saying, “Youngest goes first.” She quickly lays her tiles, spelling out her word. “That’s twenty points, plus a double for going first. Beat that.”

  I stare at the board and end up playing a three-letter word off hers—seven points.

  The game continues to go this way—her racking up mega points. Me doing terrible, each tile I draw being replaced by another useless one. Halfway into the game, I realize she’s already picked and used every blank tile in the game.

  I give her a long stare. “You seem to be having exceptionally good luck today.”

  She’s holding in a giggle. Her eyes won’t meet mine and she says, “Am I?”

  “Yes. Such great luck, in fact, it seems almost... improbable. Especially having only one player get all the blank tiles, and so early in the game.” I cross my arms over my chest.

  She hold her arms up, shrugging innocently. “What are the odds?”

  I narrow my brow. “I think you’re cheating, young lady.”

  A blush rises in her cheeks at my stern words. A wicked smile flashes on her face.

  “Do you know how I handle cheaters in this house?”

  She shakes her head, her eyes widening. The tips of her teeth bite into her full lower lip.

  “I spank them.” Before she can move, I lung over the table to grab at her. She squeals, standing and in a flash is running from the room, blanket s
ailing to the floor behind her.

  “You can run but you can’t hide!” I call, standing and dashing after her. I catch up with her in the hallway. She’s like a deer in the headlights, unsure of where to turn. I grab her arm and pull her toward me. She’s squealing and laughing and playfully pushing at me with her arms.

  I’m so much stronger than her.

  In the matter of a second, I’ve got my right foot propped up on the trim of the wall, and her bent over my thigh. I wrap my torso and right arm around her, pinning her in place and rendering her arms useless as they swat at me. I give her a few hard whacks on her rear.

  She laughs. “Stop! I concede! I may have cheated, just a little!”

  I spank her several more times. Just hard enough to sting, not enough to hurt her. My open palm rests on the curve of her bottom. I turn over my shoulder. “Tell me, now. How did you do it?”

  She wiggles her hips, her bottom moving beneath my hand. Making the crotch of my pants impossibly tight. I give the center of her bottom a hearty spank and she confesses. “Ow! When you were making the fire, I memorized where I put tiles. Put the crappy ones closest to you. I used to do it with my cousins all the time. I find people are lazy and choose the tiles near them.”

  “I don’t think you’re in a very good position to be calling me lazy.” I lay another hearty swat in the center of her rear and it makes her squeal.

  “I’m sorry! You’re not lazy. You’re a very hard worker. And I’m sorry I cheated.”

  I let her up. She’s laughing and her face is flushed. She stumbles into me, her hands pressing against my chest as she rights herself.

  I hold her shoulders in my hands, steadying her. My gaze devours her lovely face. The wide, wild eyes, her smiling lips. She’s so beautiful. I have to kiss her.

  I lean in and her smile fades, her lids grow heavy.

  I press my mouth against hers. Her body responds by melting into mine. My arms wrap around her as I explore her mouth with my tongue. She tastes of icing and coffee and warmth. My hands run down the length of her silky hair. Over the curves of her ribs. Circle around her waist. I lean down further as our kiss deepens.

  Somehow, we’re making out and making our way over to the couch. Again. I lay her down and position myself over her. The backs of my fingers stroke down the curve of her neck. My hand finds her breast and cups it, making her kiss me harder.

  I’m stroking her sides, her thighs, her breasts. I can’t take my hands from her.

  I can’t stop kissing her.

  Her hands are tugging on the hem of my shirt. I break our kiss long enough to sit up, lift the shirt up and over my arms. Her gaze is lustful as she takes in my bare chest. I reach for the hem of her skirt. It’s risen up, the dress bunched around her thighs. She half sits up and helps me remove it. I lay it on the coffee table. She tugs at the latch of her bra, removing it and freeing her beautiful breasts.

  She lies back down, her eyes wide and soft. Wearing nothing but those panties I found and washed for her late last night. I find myself leaning down, my mouth circling her pink, peaked nipple. I kiss and cup her breasts and she sighs as she runs her hands over the back of my head.

  This is where I stop this. This is where I end this. I can’t make this mistake again.

  My hand slips down, between her legs, over her panties.

  She ignites.

  Her hands are reaching for my belt. The metal clanking as her fingers hastily unlatch it. I rub harder, her hips raising, my touch distracting her from her task. I sit up, my belt hangs open. My hands go to my waist.

  This is the moment where I am meant to buckle my belt back closed. Climb off her and leave the room. Take a cold shower and avoid her as much as possible until that damn shield rises.

  My hands hover, her voice interrupts my thoughts. “Just this once. Just a once in a lifetime, fate brought us here and why not? kind of thing. Two perfect days. Then we go back to the Village and everything will be as it was. You’ll be my guardian and I’ll be good. Your job will be easier because unveiling the mysteries of the flesh will no longer be my first priority.”

  Her eyes are shining with desire. Her face is flushed with fervor. Her mouth forms one pleading word. “Please?”

  And it’s my undoing.

  There is no turning back from this moment.

  My trembling hands go to her waist. Her leg straightens. I pull her panties down, down past her knees. She’s kicking them from her ankles. I move the pillow from behind her head so she’s lying flat down on the cushions. Her hands reach above her head, her arms picture framing her lovely face, circled with a halo of her dark hair. I take a moment to memorize the beauty of her body. Her golden skin shines. Her breasts stand high and firm, pink nipples peaked. Long legs lay miles before me, her right knee bent and lazily resting against the back of the couch. Her pussy exposed. The scent of her arousal rises, greeting me and flooding my being with need.

  I unzip my pants, pushing them down over my hips. My cock springs free. Hard and ready, a dot of pre-cum glistening from its throbbing head. I shove my jeans down, kicking them from my feet.

  I kneel before her, my knee digging into the cushion between her and the couch. Her eyes are wide, curious. Her hand goes to my cock.

  The soft, hesitant touch almost makes me come. My balls tighten in their cocoon as she lightly strokes up and down my shaft.

  “It’s... so big. I can’t believe it fits.”

  “Last night, it was a perfect fit...”

  She gazes up at me and the look in her eyes is so trusting, I’m struck by the realization of what I’m about to do. My hand cups her face. I lean down until there’s only inches between our faces. I stroke her lip with the pad of my thumb. Searching her eyes, I say, “Adrianna, are you sure...” There’s too much to be said and my words trail off. Is she truly okay with this temporary arrangement, sure that she can go back to the way it was before?

  Her response is confident, sure. “Yes. I want you. Now.”

  She leans up to meet my lips. Our kisses renew the fire that got us to the couch in the first place. Our mouths press together, hard and fast and hungry. I feel I should slow down but she’s on fire and burning for me to take her. Clawing at my shoulders, pulling me in closer to her.

  I wrap my hand around the base of my cock, pressing the head against her tight, slick entrance.

  I unlock my mouth from hers. Pull back. My left hand finds her cheek, cupping it gently. I study her face. Her flushed cheeks, her smoldering eyes. Her lips reddened by my kisses. I trap her gaze. Silently asking her once again if this is her will. She gives me a nod. A reassuring smile. I hold her gaze and slowly enter her for the second time.

  Her eyes never leave mine, never waver. The look she holds in them I know I will never forget.

  She’s tight and warm and the way her pussy wraps around my cock has my breath catching in my chest, my heart pounding. But it’s that look in her eyes—it hits me in my soul, and I know I’m gone. There’s an urgency to have my face near hers. I lean down, pressing my cheek to hers. My lips brush against the lobe of her ear. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” She turns her head, her lips finding mine. I press into her further, slowly not wanting to hurt her but she surprises me. My hands clutch at her ass, pulling her closer to me. My cock fills her.

  Her fingernails dig into my flesh and she gives a quick gasp of pain.

  I pull back, study her face for a moment. “I’ll be gentle.” I move more slowly, reading her body’s response. When she moves past the place of pain and enters the realm of pleasure, I move harder, faster.

  Her pussy tightens around my cock in reply. I pull my hips back, thrust into her once more. Her hips rise to meet me. In the flash of a moment, we are rocking together, our bodies tangled around one another. Her skin is damp and hot against mine. I begin to sweat, my heart rate accelerating. My balls further tighten as more blood flows through my shaft. I’m thrusting within her and she’s eagerly meeting me with each p
lunge.

  Her legs wrap around my waist, pinning me to her. The walls of her pussy clench around me. She wraps her arms tightly around my neck, her body curving around mine, letting me know she’s getting close. She’s breathing hard; every few pants, my name escapes her mouth.

  The quiet exhalation of my name pushes me over the edge. There’s a tightening at the base of my cock the makes me lose my breath. My muscles tense. My brow is damp with sweat. She’s clutching my skin, calling my name as her pussy winds as tightly as possible around my cock. I give one final, hard thrust, succumbing to her powers. Lightning strikes my mind, an explosion from within lighting my body. White heat flashes through me as she gives a warlike cry of victory, her arms so tight around my neck I’m in pain.

  She stays rigid a moment, then with a sharp exhale, collapses beneath me on the couch. Her hands go to her hair, stroking the damp locks back from her forehead. She’s panting, her eyes wide and wild as she looks around the room. Her mouth opens and closes, as if she wants to speak but is in shock. I’m starting to worry, but finally, words form.

  “I... that... oh, my God. That. Was. Amazing.”

  I grab her face in my hands, holding her there a moment as I stare into her eyes. I pull her toward me, kissing her hard.

  My lips press against hers, my tongue tasting the sweet nectar of her mouth.

  I lose myself in her. Ignoring the nagging voice in the back of my mind. The one that’s threatening to ruin the best moment of my life. It’s saying: You’re a dead man.

  * * *

  Adrianna

  I wake to him playing with my hair.

  I’m in his bed. Lying naked in his arms, my cheek resting on his bare chest. He must have brought me here from the couch after I fell asleep. The thought of my naked body in his arms as he carried me up the stairs strikes me in my heart, making a warm smile spread on my face. I shyly meet his gaze.

  He twirls a tendril around his finger and says, “How are you?”

  “Good.” My gaze focuses on his lips. The memory of his touches warms me, makes me shy. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “About an hour.”