Insatiable Crimes: A Mafia Romance

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Breaking the Capo's nose for being an irritating motherfucker... probably wasn't the best way to go.

Can't say that I regret it, though. He deserved it for the brief and infuriating answers he was giving me.

Blood spurted from his nose, dripping down the curve of his lips. I smiled at the clear restrain in his pose, just as an involuntary tear cascaded his cheek.

Beautiful.

"All that blood looks good on you," My fingers suddenly had a mind of their own as they trailed his bloody cheek. An almost shiver escaped him, as those silver-grey's stared right back at me.

His dark gaze swept over me languidly, eyes unreadable. There was something sinister in his eyes, a hunger prominent within.

Anger and lust— the perfect combination.

I traced his busted lip, pressing down on it harshly. He shuddered lightly, closing his eyes, almost reflexively.

"It really brings out your eyes," I murmured, having way too much fun.

"Now," I brushed my hand callously, taking a respectable step backwards. His eyes flashed open. "Do continue your explaining. Preferably without any more incoherency or stupidity. I have places to be."

He didn't budge. He never once looked away from me.

Raising a brow at his defiance, I looked at Axel in the shadows. "I'll get the Don. Watch-"

A low, unhurried voice called out something from behind. That 'something' being absolute gibberish to me. Italian. I heard closely, the way his voice deepened and turned into a dragged drawl, lilting at certain words. Hot.

I tilted my head to the side, not turning around. "I don't talk lasagna."

A few other incomprehensible words joined in, and I could feel the heat behind his glowering at being given my back to talk to. He recognised that as a sign of blatant disrespect. I let a slight smirk curl at the corner of my lip.

When his mutterings wouldn't come to an end, I came to the conclusion that he was cursing me in his home tongue.

Such flattery.

"Stay," He demanded, rather than told, his voice as flat as his expression.

I matched his neutrality, finally turning around. "Beg for it."

He didn't. But I did receive a death glare, along with the slight widening of his eyes. Small wins, every day.

"No." The look he shot me then was enough to make me believe that he was more insulted by my words, rather than angry.

A new point in his armour for me to gnaw at.

"Why not?" I tilted my head, studying him curiously. "You'd look pretty on your knees."

I wasn't lying. But maybe pretty wouldn't be the only words I'd use to describe him. He'd be a domineer, even lowered to his knees.

"I'm glad you think so." Was his icy reply.

"If that is all—"