Purchased for Submission: BWWM Mafia Romance by Jamila Jasper

Purchased for Submission: BWWM Mafia Romance by Jamila Jasper

Author:Jamila Jasper
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Jamila Jasper Romance
Published: 2021-02-25T05:00:00+00:00


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31

Fallon’s Hidden Desires

Fallon hisses that she’d rather die than dance with me, and to prove her point, she finds Cassia dancing alone and joins her. Cassia’s too drunk to remember that she thinks she’s better than everyone, including Fallon. I spend most of the night watching Fallon. She barely touches any liquor, but I can’t say the same for myself.

Ofek grabs Cassia near midnight and takes her back to his place. Just like that, Yiayia married her off, and she’s the Israeli’s problem now. We’re flying back to the seaport tomorrow morning and heading back to Greece. Fallon stumbles up the stairs ahead of me. With the door shut behind us and liquor coursing through me, my desire for her mounts. She’s a somber drunk, and she stumbles into bed, wriggling beneath the covers, fully clothed.

I strip my shirt and pants off and slither into bed next to her, naked except for my boxers. She turns around and her hands come upon my bare chest. Fallon recoils with one hoarsely whispered word, “No.”

“I want your cunt,” I slur.

“I said no, Stavros.”

“Why shouldn’t I take what I want. I... I want you.”

“Why?”

“Does it matter? You’re a woman. You’re beautiful.”

“Stop it. You bought me. You paid more money than I owed the federal government in student loans. There has to be a reason I’m here.”

“Fate, beloved.”

She swats at me.

“You don’t believe in fate.”

I spread her legs and position my weight on hers. Fallon’s breathing slows. I want to kiss her. She’s right. I don’t believe in fate. A man who kills for a living can’t believe in fate. Or chance. She wraps her thighs around me and makes a little noise in the back of her throat that sounds like purring.

“I want you,” I repeat gruffly.

“We can’t. It’s not good for either of us.”

Her hand touches my cheek. Her fingers burn me with their touch. I’m guilty. I’m wrong for touching her and touching her. My cock strains against my boxers. I’m inches away from her pleasure centers and my yearning for her only intensifies. I run my lips over her neck and enjoy the way she whimpers. She doesn’t know yet if I’ll take what I want or if I’ll wait for her yielding to me.

“You want me, beloved,” I whisper, taking her bottom lip between my teeth and sucking on it.

“I shouldn’t.”

“One more time,” I murmur, kissing her and acting like I’m not pleading for her permission, “I fuck you good one more time and then I never do it again.”

“Liar.”

Her breath tickles my neck, and I grind my hips forward. She whimpers like she knows how close she came to impaling herself on my stiffness.

“Fine. I’m a liar. And a murderer. And every fucking wicked thing on the planet. Then why do I get you so goddamned wet?”

“I’m not.”

Her voice changes pitch. I know she’s lying.

“Let me touch your cunt. I’ll find out how wet you are.”

“Don’t you dare,” she hisses.

“What will you do to stop me?”

“I could push you off.



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