Free Dark Blood: A Mafia Hitman Romance by Isabella Starling Page A

him. For reasons unknown to me, I need his touch. Even a second without his skin on mine is hurting me.
    I don't think. Instead, I just move off the couch and sit at his feet in front of the armchair. I lean against his legs and his hand comes down to stroke my hair. It feels good. Natural. Like we were made to play the roles we've been forced into. For once, I'm a willing captive.
    We sit like that for a while, and I let him stroke my hair with my arms wrapped around his knees. Finally, I look up at him. I have so many questions, yet they all feel unimportant as our eyes meet. For some reason, whenever I'm with Matteo, nothing else matters. There's just my beating heart and his dark eyes boring into mine. His touch and my heavy breathing. His slow exhale and my lashes fluttering, cheeks reddening when he looks at me.
    "Get onto my lap," he says. I get up, crawling into his arms just like he wants me to. I should be fighting this. Every instinct in my body should be telling me to run from this predator. But instead, I want more. Closer. Deeper.
    "Straddle me." His hands find my hips and I do as he tells me. I'm wearing the dress from the day before, all dirtied up. It slides up as I straddle his lap, and I feel something hard pressing against my center.
    "What are you doing to me?" I ask him softly. "Why won't you let me go?"
    "We both know that's not an option." He tugs on the ends of my hair, dangerously close to my breasts. I inhale sharply, not knowing whether I'm desperate for him to stop or keep playing.
    "Why? Because of your father?" I need to know. I want to hear his reasons for keeping me. He's already defied his dad by taking me from the cell, I assume. I should be dead by now if everything had gone according to their plan. But for some reason, Matteo can't do it. He can't hurt me, can't raise a hand to me. I need to know why.
    "Because...." His fingers trail along my collarbone, playing with the frayed collar of my dress. My breathing speeds up as he slides them under the hem, stroking my throat. I throw my head back, needing him to reach under my dress. Lower.
    "I need you," he continues.
    One hand on my hips, his other tangling in my hair and pulling me down. My eyes are still closed. I'm too afraid to open them and see the intensity of his gaze again. Our faces are inches apart and my lips part in anticipation.
    "Need me to what?" I ask.
    "Open your eyes."
    I shake my head no.
    "Now."
    I'm hesitating, but then finally, slowly, I let my lashes flutter open. I was right. He's staring at me with those black eyes, right into my soul.
    "Kiss me," he orders me.
    I hesitate, and he tugs on my hair again in warning. Slowly, I place my hands on his chest and lean down. I'm an inch away when he raises his knee, making me slide forward. And then our lips are touching.
    It's searing hot. Dangerous. So wickedly delicious. He tastes like strong coffee and determination. Deep. Dark. Taboo.
    I open my mouth, welcoming his tongue. He kisses me, his tongue exploring with a force that will claim me forever. I'm already his, yet he's barely touched me. I already know I'll follow him wherever he goes. Fuck running. Fuck everything. I need him. I need his darkness, and he needs my light.
    His hands wander slowly but deliberately down my back, finding the row of buttons on my spine. I imagine him putting the dress back on me while I was out of it, doing the buttons up one by one. I remember how scared I was when the three masked men came into the room again, offering me food. I wanted it to be him instead.
    Matteo bites down on my bottom lip and I moan against his mouth, arching my back. He pulls down my dress roughly, until it's piled in a heap in my lap. With one motion, my bra falls open, and it falls on my dress. My tits are exposed now, my breathing heavy.
    He moves away from my lips, his eyes locked on mine. I can't stand it when he does this. Any other man would've looked right at my nakedness, but he just...keeps looking at my