I did it! I don't how, why, and even when, but I followed the primary instinct that always takes me over whenever she's around and I sucked that kiss off her lips like a tamed animal on heavy winter when there's no food to feast.

She has never seen it coming and she didn't fight it either which made me wrap one arm around her back and pull her closer when her tiny palms landed on my chest and her fingers grabbed the fabric of my shirt to steady herself I felt the whole world is mine, with all mine skies where I found myself floating while working on her lips deeper and deeper, with all the waters and lands of the planet and the core of it all it's her, with all the necessary and unnecessary things revolving around her, making everything I know tiny and unimportant, even myself.

My skin almost hurts me with arousal and I have never been so lost of control over myself, but even in this moment, when most men would take it all, I, the motherfucker I, think about never being enough for her, never being what she deserves, never being able to offer her safety, the way she deserves.

And I pulled back from her lips, not because she was choking having no more air in her lungs, but because I realized I was not the one for her and yes, Enzo was right, life with me is never safe, never decent, never quiet.

As I pull away, I keep my eyes closed because I know the moment I'll see her, I'm doomed. I'll never be able to let her go, I'll lose my rational thoughts and I'll take her all, and the more I'll her, the fewer chances will be to let her go and the moment she's mine, we'll... she's mine forever, in life and death.

She bubbles something while sucking air to refill her lungs, I don't even understand what she's saying having the arousal still resounding in my ears, then she walks away.

I called her to come back, just once hoping she wouldn't because the intensity of this moment had to stop.

When she waved her hand showing she wants to be alone I breathed with relief and turned around to leave.

I need a good fuck tonight. And booze. A lot of fucking booze and pretend this has never happened.

I pulled the phone out of my pants pocket and dialed Fabio, shaking, struggling with the urge to turn around and fetch her and run away, maybe to my forest cottage.

How much wished I took her there.

"Ciao, Raffa! Come stai?" he asks and I hardly distinguish his voice from the noise in the background, loud talk, laughter, and music. (Hi, Raffa. How are you?).

"Get out of there and come to the beach. She is there, I want surveillance at all times," I order.

"She's already supervised, Raffa. Come on, that's how you know me?" he laughs.

"I want you to be with her."

"Alright. I'm at the mansion, one minute away. Anything else?"

"I'm going out tonight."

"Facto! Avrai tutto pronto," he confirms and I hang up while walking towards the sliding doors of the patio just before I get in my eyes and Fabio's meet while he's exiting the mansion on the other doors, heading to the beach, just as he has promised. (Got it! You'll have everything ready).

His look tells me Mia is safe with him and my eyes speak gratitude but there must have been something more that my look has said because I see him frowning in question.

I salute him with two fingers reaching my temples making sure he understands I'm in no mood to talk and I walk in, straight to the office and right to the whiskey bottle in the hope that booze burning my throat will also burn my brain and my thoughts and the picture of her wasted in my arms while I devour her lips.

It's torture. It's a walk through hell stepping on flames and fucking pretending it doesn't burn.

With the third glass of whiskey I throw down my throat I pick up the phone from the desk and opening the screen my eyes land on the books app where she is supposed to fucking write every fucking Friday.

Well, today is fucking Friday and there's nothing new.

Of course, it isn't! She is busy fucking with my brain!

I open the app and then her book and roll my eyes at the first lines of her first chapter. I miss the stupid Don of her book, melting like butter in front of her while she devilishly torments him.

Right now I'm that weak fucking Don of her book and I feel she does anything she wants with me and she doesn't even struggle much. All she needs to do is exist. Fucking exists.

My knuckles turn white squeezing the phone while in the battle fought in my brain against her the brain seems to lose and the heart wins, racing wildly with every memory of her beautiful smile.

Arguments against her are plenty and quite strong while the ones for her are only in my heart sending mischievous messages to my brain.

Because you can't live away from her from now on.

But she's Don Enzo's daughter.

So?! Whenever have you chosen easy things in life?

This is not about hard or easy. Don Enzo is the murderer of my father.

How sure are you? What proves you have?

My father's legacy...

A letter you don't even know is real.

"Cazzo di merda!" I yell my frustration out loud in the hope that my brain will stop emerging all sorts of reasoning, for or against Mia. (Fucking shit).

She's not a fucking merchandise that I can trade in my brain or outside just the way I like.

I'm sure how long I've been drinking on my own in the office but I'm noticing it's dark outside just when a notification on my phone brings me back to reality and I see the books app flashing with a red dot.

There's an update! For fuck's sake, there's an update!

I jump off of my chair and grab the phone, sliding up and opening the app as if there I find some kind of secret of eternal life.

It says "New chapter of Mafia in Love has been posted".

If this was to be any other moment in time before we met I would have ignored this new chapter most probably and hit the road to some bitches, but now things are totally different.

The kiss I sucked from her lips today felt like a life source I've just become addicted to. Therefore, anything, any single thing related to her is now primordial for my brain status. I say the brain because my heart is done, it's a goner already and totally surrendered to my new little passion and I don't have either the arguments or the will to go against it.

My eyes roll fast on the lines of the new chapter she has just posted, searching and analyzing any kind of hidden message she might send me in this new chapter or maybe she wants to simply vent because I know that kiss has woken some demons in her or at least some naughty angels.

I'm sure it did! The meat shivering on her bones and the weakness in her knees was proof of it.

Nothing out of the ordinary in this chapter. Poor Don is still falling on his knees begging for mercy and release from the claws of her play on him while she enjoys being a bitch.

One thing is different though. The Don doesn't seem to be stupidly in love anymore while the female character wonders towards the end if she hasn't fallen for him, too.

I lean against the backrest of my fucking disgustingly expensive leather office chair and laugh loudly with satisfaction I've rarely felt before. Or maybe never.

This is how I know my kiss has got under her skin and she won't forget it easily.

Good! Let her burn in the passion of that kiss and whenever I'll feel it fade away she'll get a new kiss, stronger and hotter till I see burns on her skin.

I stand up feeling at ease for not being the only one under the water here but also kind of dizzy. I don't even remember how many glasses of whiskey I've had but that doesn't matter.

The drunker I'll be tonight, the less likely I'll be to remember tomorrow the bitch that will suck me dry tonight because fuck it, my girth is hard and hurting since the damn kiss.

I can only hope she burns in the same arousal as I do right now. It can't be just one of us, sweetie.

I reached the club late tonight. Don't ask me why but no suit fitted me, no pant was wide enough to fit my erected manhood and no style of my hair satisfied me.

Finally, I said fuck it! My money will speak in the place of my appearance.

I don't know how or whom I take after but I have never shown I'm drunk whenever I have one too many. I'm the most precise driver or walker or whatever when I'm tipsy. And I need a lot of booze to cross that stage.

A black window-tinted SUV was waiting for me at the front door at the exact hour Fabio said it would and with no instructions needed, it took me straight to the club. Our club.

Well, sort of ours. The owner did not agree to sell but allowed us to manage it as if it was ours with the highest discretion from his side and the personnel in the change of some good amount of money.

We do our deals here, high top secret meetings and negotiations, our good deeds and bad deeds while everyone else's eyes are turned to the other side. Always.

Fabio is already here. I can see him from the entrance gathered with some of his friends in one of the VIP rooms from upstairs and once I show myself in his eyes fall straight on me.

I don't know how but Fabio besides being always my best friend, has also been the one that held my safety to the highest.

It's like he has five fucking pairs of eyes.

He salutes me with two fingers to his temple and I show him that I'll take the way to the office. Not in the mood for noise or crowd.

I wished I was home and check on Mia. Or stay with her. Or take her out. Or make love to her.

The last thought froze my heart. I've never used to say that before. Never.

I fuck! Simple. I fuck, I don't make love!

On the way to the office and while thoughts gather in my foggy brain like arrows piercing in and thrusting out, I grab the hand of one of the bitches from the bar and drag her with me to the office.

I have no idea what her face looks like, she could even not have one for as much as I care, I only need a bitch to fuck.

Mia's face flashing in front of my eyes every two minutes is more than I could handle.

The girls here are not my girls in Italy. Their faces carry so much make-up you could beautify up an entire wedding, so I push her towards the bathroom door.

"Lave ton visage," I order her while walking to a leather chair next to the sofa and pulling out a cigar from the sculptured wooden box from the desk. (Wash your face).

I sit on the sofa stretching my legs to their full length and leaning my head on the backrest while sucking the cigar and releasing perfect smoke circles, waiting for the girl to come back.

When she finally shows up my mood towards her dropped to half. Looking up at her I can clearly say she's much more beautiful without the tonnes of makeup.

"Une chose que je ne comprendrai jamais avec vous, mesdames françaises. Vous êtes généralement des femmes qui ont une apparence si naturelle, mais ici vous mettez des tons de maquillage. Tellement de maquillage qu'on ne peut jamais deviner qui est derrière," I tell her while she waves her walk toward me. And kneels between my legs. (One thing I'll never understand with you, french ladies. You are usually women that carry such a natural appearance but in here you put tonnes of make-up. So much much makeup that one could never guess who's the person behind it).

She chooses not to answer but to slide her palms along my inner thighs, slowly while her eyes lock with mine, hoping for a spark in my look.

She tries her best, moving her palms slowly and putting pressure in the exact right places to make my girth stand and twitch.

She's good, I'll give her that. But the only part of me that twitches is my cock, although she does her best.

"Allez-y," I order her coldly and bend my head back till my eyes are pinned to the ceiling. (Get to it).

She unzips the pants and releases my manhood to such a relief that makes me moan deeply.

I feel taken into her hot, humid mouth and that makes me tense the muscles of my thighs and move up and down while she takes me fast and deep.

I hear the door opening and I know it can never be anybody else but Fabio, who says nothing but walks in and seats next to me, holding a cigar of his own and waiting quietly till I'm done.

She tries, she tries hard but I'm losing my interest and I want her out of here as soon as possible, so I jump on my feet while grabbing her very light figure and I throw her on the sofa with her face crushed on her backrest and butt up where I plunge strongly making her yelp.

It doesn't take me long to release, grabbing her left thigh with a strong grip where I trust my fingers in and waving my right hand which is still holding a cigar.

I release the air collected in my lungs with a long breath and pull out of her when I'm done. I have no fucking idea if I was hard in her or not, I simply don't remember and actually don't give a fuck.

"Bonne fille," I mumble once I'm out and slap her right butt cheek as a reward then she stands up, fetching a tissue and cleaning me up with a satisfied smile. (Good girl).

"Merci," she whispers before leaving the room, waving her thin thighs wrapped in some black lace. (Thank you).

"Was she any good?" Fabio speaks.

"Good enough."

"I thought Mia is with you."

"Why would she be?" I ask staggering to hide my racing breath hearing her name.

"She was asking me about the nightlife in Cannes. I was expecting her to ask you to take her out tonight."

I frown my eyebrows and stare intensely at Fabio wondering where the fuck has left his brain.

"Really?! And you found it fit not to tell me?" I scold him in a deep tone while putting off the cigar in one of the ashtrays on the desk and finishing my glass.

"She can't go out alone. She can't get out of the mansion without me knowing about it," he replies leisurely.

"No shit?! How the fuck can you be so sure? She is the daughter of a gangster, Fabio! Do you really expect her not to know how to escape security whenever she wants?! She lived all of her life with security around her, Fabio," I roar and exit the office rushing my steps out and asking for the car keys from one of my men waiting outside next to the bouncers.

I know she can escape. I'm a gangster son myself, I've known all the secrets of security my grandfather used to have around the house and I surely know how to fool them.

And Mia is not stupid. She's anything but stupid.

I leave the club's premises with screeching wheels and drive insanely on the crowded streets hoping I'll reach my mansion before she has the chance to leave.

If she manages to escape that means she can leave me anytime she wants. And I'm not ready to let her go. I don't think I'll be ever ready to let her go.

Besides, if something happens to her, if the Moroccans get to her before I do, I'll be hanged by my balls by her father.

I wouldn't blame him if he did.

~~~~~
Dear Reader, thank you for being here. 🤗