Bred In Violence (A Mafia Romance Book One) #𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟏

Chapter 29

I will always remember I was his for a few hours.

Sophie

*Unedited*

"Raphael"

"Yes, cara."

"I'm hungry."

"I made you hungry" He chuckled, his voice arrogant. I poked his ribs, and he pushed me beneath him, feeling his weight; I will never get tired of feeling his weight on me. He smiles at me, that beautiful smile that belongs to only me; I smiled back, comfortably basking in his attention.

I loved this man. I remember saying it to him in the heat of the moment, and I wish I could blame the heat for saying those three words, but I cannot. I meant exactly what I said. I loved him.

Knowing he would break my heart should have been reason enough to push him away to protect my heart, but I did not. I pulled him to me and reveled in his weight.

I loved everything about him. His height, his beautiful face, his arrogance, his leadership, and his strength, which I have relied on and taken advantage of a few times.

"Come on, if you don't want to be lavished again" He pulled me up, and I squealed, trying to reach for something to cover my nakedness. I pulled a sheet and covered my front, making Raphael laugh, a real laugh, a loud laugh— it stopped me at my track, gazing at the wonder that was him.

I still thought he was beautiful when he smiled, but when he laughed, he was breathtaking

I felt giddy that I could make him laugh, so I just stood there, tightly holding the sheet, gazing at him.

"What?" He asked, kissing me while trying to pull off the sheet from me, but I unyielding held onto it.

"You should laugh often; you're gorgeous when you do."

"You have to stop that!"

"What?" I bit his lip, pretending not to know what he was talking about.

He kissed me until I was breathless; he kissed me until I forgot I was embarrassed to stand in front of him naked. I wound my arms around his neck, kissing him back, pressing my body into his. He abruptly pulled me away, taking a step from me. His eyes filled with passion, hunger, and almost desperation.

"We can't do it again," He said, dragging his hand through his hair. I saw the tremor of his hand even as he tried so much to hide it; his voice was husky... "You're sore," he said hoarsely.

"I blushed, but I still managed to shake my head, denying it, but I shouldn't have bothered; I couldn't fool or trick him into making love to me again.

"Let's go feed you," he sounded excited. "You're a knock-out cara," He said, looking like he wanted to literally devour me, which was apt because I felt the same way about him. We stood like that for almost a lifetime, naked, staring at each other.

In a movie, we would have ended up together; we could have had a big wedding after 2 hours of our first meeting. But this was not a movie—this was my life—his life and a dirty secret between us. I knew whatever he was keeping from me was horrible because of the bargain he made me; he knew I would run a mile the minute he told me. But I wasn't going to think about it. This was my night with him.
"Stop that," I told him.

"Stop what?" He threw me a seductive smile, but I ignored it, reaching down to his white shirt.

Raphael loved white shirts; his wardrobe was filled with mostly pristine white shirts.

Looking around for my panties, I found them at the bottom of the bed.

"You tore my panties?" I asked him, outraged, fighting the urge to throw them at him. Amusement filled his voice. "Really, can I have a look?" he held out his hand, waiting to catch them. I could see the beginning of a smile at the corner of his mouth.