Angel and his Mafia Don

15| Imagine You Naked

"Don't hey me! You didn't call," I angrily point out.

I hear him release a shaky breath, clearly struggling on what to tell me. "Something important came up."

"Important?" I question swinging my feet in the air. You couldn't miss the hint of interrogation in my tone. I really want to know what this important thing is.

He could have at least texted me.

"Yes, but don't worry. I thought about you the entire time,"  he gently reassures me like I'm the most delicate thing in the world. Almost as if I'm a small flower and without reassurance and care, I'll get blown away in the wind.

His pretty words are not good for me at all. The reply is something I would've never expected but secretly my heart feels content.

I can't stop my emotions from escaping me. They trickle out like the clouds crying happy tears. I start rolling around on my bed, tangling myself in the silky sheets. A vague mix of relief and happiness overtakes me. Very strange indeed.

He carries on as my smile grows to the size of the moon, " So...how have you been?"

My pettiness from him not calling doesn't allow me to answer properly. "I was doing great until you called, any updates?"

I can easily imagine his annoyingly handsome face lit up with a smirk. Seeing him would be great, but just hearing his husky voice through the phone sends chills right up my spine. The electrifying and exhilarating ones that you desperately want more of. That you helplessly dream of everyday. That you hopelessly search for all your life. I've found a person that has no problem giving me them.

He replies, "Straight to the point. I like it."

"Stop messing around Aleksandr! What are you doing right now?" I snap at him, genuinely feeling curious about what he's doing.

The next words that leave his mouth leave me unable to string a sentence together.

"Imagining you naked."
An arrow to the heart, right there

"In the middle of my bed."
I couldn't help but close my legs

"My fingers running gently down your body."
I could've told him to stop but I didn't want to.

The silly thing is I'm actually imagining it. I wonder what his room looks like? How would he look at me? What would his touch feel like?

"Are you alone my sweet Angel?" he questions in a dominate way that has me desperately squirming. At this rate I'm ice and he's the serene fire of the sun. Melting me, burning me and most of all possessing every inch of my mind.

I reply instantly, "Yes."

Curiosity to see his next action becomes my fuel.

A confident yet wicked chuckle escapes him. Such a small action but it has big consequences for me. My stomach starts doing somersaults. The poor thing could actually win a gold medal at this point. I despise how easy being sexy is for him and how needy he makes me. I've never been this way. It isn't fair at all.

Another cruelty is that he pauses after each sentence. Maybe it's to let the true power of his words sink in. Nevertheless, the waiting is killing me softly. For some unknown reason, I feel like I can trust him.

"Good, take of all your clothes."

Finally!

I quickly obey his order and strip all my body of restrictive material. I'm naked and vulnerable, it feels strangely freeing. Tossing them to a side, I mumble, "w..what..next?"