The Power of a Woman: A Mafia Erotic Romance (31 page)

The way he gave me demands while making it sound as if it were a favor left me exhilarated, making me eager to do everything he asked of me.

He waited until my hand was inside my panties again, the heat from my fingers adding a new sensation to my overeager clit, before feeding me. The freshness of the di bufala and the texture of the soft ricotta caused me to moan, but the feel of my hand on my icy skin turned the sound erotic, eliciting a smile from Stefan.

“Very good, Tesoro. Don’t stop. Not too fast, not too slow. Take your time like I would if it were my hand on you…if it were my fingers touching you.”

I obeyed him without question, my eyes never leaving his. There was just something about watching him while touching myself that turned me on even more. My skin became overheated yet cool at the same time, like it’d been covered in a sheen of sweat that chilled upon contact with the air around us.

He alternated bites between my mouth and his while my fingers continued their torturous assault. By the time we finished one plate, Stefan moved it away and began working on the other. This time, he decided to change things up.

“Now I want you to dip your fingers into your pussy, nice and slow. Keep it shallow until I ask you to go deeper.” He watched as I followed his directions, slowly easing two fingers into myself.

This was all so new to me. So different than anything I’d ever done before. Sex in the bathroom at the courthouse was one thing, but this took my excitement of voyeurism to a whole other level. Even though the restaurant had been closed down for the two of us, it didn’t mean we were completely alone. The waiter could turn up at any moment while my fingers were inside me.

He got through half the plate when his eyes widened, a devilish glint to them. The corners of his lips turned up as he said, “Go deeper, faster. I want to finish feeding you your meal while watching you fucking your fingers. But I still don’t want you to come yet.”

I slid my fingers in further until my palm cupped my sex. Picking up the speed and riding my own hand, I chased an orgasm I couldn’t quite catch. He asked me to hold off, and even though all I wanted was to let go and relieve this deep ache, I did as he asked. As long as he kept his admiring gaze on me, I’d do anything he asked of me.

He fed me the last bite as I rocked against my hand in my chair, my moans deep and desperate. And then the waiter reappeared next to us, removing the plates from the table. Stefan had his attention fixed on me the entire time, making sure I hadn’t let our little interruption deter me from his demand. But what he didn’t know is that I was so incredibly turned on, the presence of another person nearly made me explode. My walls began to tighten around my fingers, contracting with need.

“I’m about to come. I can’t hold on any longer. Please tell me I can let go,” I begged breathlessly, needing his approval in the worst way.

“Stop,” he ordered, pulling on my arm until my hand slid from between my thighs. He pulled me closer while leaning in at the same time, holding my wrist so that my hand was positioned between our faces. “The face you make when you come apart is for me and me only. That face is
mine
. No one else is allowed to witness it.”

He bent my wrist until my arousal-soaked fingers touched my lips. My tongue peeked out, searching for the taste. But then he pulled it away, bringing them to his mouth. He sucked my fingers all the way in until his lips wrapped around my knuckles, and then he slowly pulled them back out.

“And that…? The taste of your lust…? That’s mine as well. No one is ever allowed to know what that tastes like. Do you understand me?”

I nodded, his intensity stealing the words from my mind.

“Tell me, Tesoro. I need to hear you say it.”

“I’m all yours—mind, body, and soul. No one else’s. Ever.”

The smile on his face informed me of his approval. Stefan then pulled my chair away from the table and moved to his knees in front of me, staring up at me. I licked my lips, anticipating his next move.

“Tonight—this dinner—this is my way of making sure you are aware of where we stand. I’m not worried about the future with you by my side, Jordana.” He straightened his spine, peering up at me through his dark lashes. “Ever since the very first time I laid eyes on you, I had no doubt in my mind that you were something special. You put up a good fight from time to time, and I never thought I’d say this, but it’s one of the things I love most about you, Jordana. You are so strong, and I never want to see the light inside you dim or fade away. You keep me on my toes. You’ve always understood me, even when you test me. There’s no one in this world better suited for me than you.”

I stared at him, feeling my heart pick up speed, threatening to burst from my chest at any given second. Tears stung the backs of my eyes, but I refused to let them go, knowing they’d only interfere with my sight. And I needed to see this with my own two eyes if I wanted to believe it to be true.

“Sometimes you kneel before me, and other times you lay beneath me, but that will never take away from how important it is to have you
beside
me—
next
to me. Now and always. I will protect you, love you, and do everything in my power to give you everything you need or want. My yesterdays were dark and cold, but my tomorrows are bright and warm, because you are my present. You are my future. You are my everything.”

I’d heard him say sweet things to me before, but nothing of this caliber. Hearing it made my heart swell, and I could no longer hold back the tears as they cascaded down my cheeks, falling from my chin. But they didn’t make me weak, because they came from something so strong—my love for Stefan.

He pulled a box from inside his jacket, holding it between his hands as he leaned in closer to me. “Jordana Albanese—”

“Giannotti,” I said, cutting him off. “My name is Jordana Marie Giannotti.”

He smiled and his dark eyes lit up. “Jordana Giannotti…” He opened the black velvet box, revealing a cushion diamond—no less than two and a half carets—surrounded by smaller, invisible set diamonds wrapping around the platinum band. Just the way the center stone caught the light of the candles caused my breath to cease in my lungs. I gasped as it sparkled in the box, knowing just how much it would sparkle on my finger.

“I’m going to need you to hurry this along, Stefan…my finger is itching for that beautiful piece of heaven in your hand,” I teased, the sight of my ring making me impatient.

A rare chuckle escaped him as he pulled the diamond from the box, holding my left hand in his. “I’m not going to ask you to marry me. I didn’t the other day, and I won’t right now. The only reason why I’m putting this ring on your finger is to let everyone know you’re mine.” He slid the ring past my knuckle.

I heard him say something, but I only answered it with a, “Uh-huh.”

“Excuse me?”

My eyes finally snapped back to his with a giant smile on my lips. “I’m sorry, Stefan, I couldn’t hear you past the sparkle of my ring.”

With a growl, he pulled me to my feet with him, spun me around, and bent me over until I nearly fell face first into my chair. He stood behind me, my ass in his crotch, his erection evident behind his slacks. “So testy, Tesoro.” His hand caressed my backside gently before pulling back and spanking me, causing me to flinch forward with a yelp. But then he immediately rubbed the sting away, only to repeat the action again on the other side.

After three amazing smacks, he pulled me back up and turned me to face him.

“
I said
…are you happy, my love?” The slight upturn at the corners of his lips and the spark in his eyes showed the depths of his love for me.

“Happier than I ever dreamed I could be,” I answered him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he pulled me into his body by my hips.

“Are you ready to stand by my side as we take things over?”

“More than ready,” I said a split second before he greedily took my mouth with his.

Our kiss had barely been broken for two seconds before the mute waiter came back to the table, standing a few feet away. He glanced at us both before nodding to Stefan. Then he spun around and disappeared like the magician he seemed to be. Here one minute…silently gone the next.

“What was that all about?”

“Our business is about to take place, Mrs. Giannotti.”

“Here? We’re doing it here?”

He nodded and took a step back to straighten his tie. “The back room is already set up, waiting for us. Everyone will be here shortly. We mustn’t keep them waiting.”

I turned to the table, noticing my glass of wine with maybe three gulps left. I picked it up and chugged the rest, feeling the warmth flow down my throat. I turned back to Stefan, watching the humor dance in his eyes, even though his expression remained stoic. “Now I’m ready. Let’s go.”

The best way to enter our business is to be born into it. We define ourselves by our family, and family demands sacrifice. In the Mafia, it’s customary for people sit at a table to discuss their problems and walk away with at least some resolution. It was a therapy session of nods, crude cursing, and gesturing arms. The Mafia understands that grudges only interfere with growth, and simmering disputes only boil over, causing serious trouble. A Mafia family that plays together…stays together.

It was time to see if that ideology still held true.

Stefan held my hand tightly as we made our way into the back room of Amichi’s. As far as I knew, no one was aware of Carlo’s presence in the states, let alone in our town. I hated lying to my father, and rarely did. However, I now found myself caught in the snare of deceit, and I almost felt relieved that it was coming to an end tonight. Besides, I suspected there were things Stefan hadn’t shared with me, and my curiosity was full to the brim.

My father had faced some rough periods. We all have. That being said, I prayed that seeing me—his little girl—at the table tonight wouldn’t spark a situation that could leave us all bathed in blood. He was a brave soldier, and a proud, stubborn man. I was sick to my stomach with the thought of the colorful words he’d choose after hearing that I’d gotten married…and to whom. And as if my father’s words weren’t enough, I was rather certain that Mick Giannotti’s actions could start a war between the families. This could all end so horribly wrong, and the fear manifested itself into anxiety that left my eye twitching.

At the end of the day, I was in a roomful of serial killers. But who the next victim would be was a mystery that caused fear to course through my bones.

Stefan led me to the back room, and we stepped in without sharing a word. The strong arm he held my elbow with provided me security and fueled my confidence. We could do this. Silence filled every corner and bounced off the taupe walls, striking me with the need to say something. Not that I had anything to say, but I was desperate for the silence to end. It was eerie and sent a chill racing down my spine. Ominous—that was the word. Very telling of what would take place in this very room tonight.

Stefan moved silently to the head of the table and pulled out a chair for me. My eyes widened in surprise—being in on this with him was one thing, but to share the head of the table with him? That meant so much more. And doused me with even more confidence to ward off the nerves at the reactions we’d get once the families arrived. I wasn’t facing this alone. Stefan sat next to me, both of us sharing one end of the very large table.

I glanced around the room, needing something to distract me from the overwhelming quiet that enveloped the room. I noticed how all the furniture had been removed except for the twenty-five foot table we sat at, which ran down the center with chairs surrounding it. The wood appeared distressed from age, and it made me wonder if it had a particular meaning—like, was this the actual table that fathers before ours sat at and discussed business? I shook off that question and glanced at the items on top of the table, finding demitasse cups of espresso, a dish of lemon rinds, and bowls filled with sugar cubes. A few bottles of uncorked Chianti sat in the middle of the table along with a few boards of Italian meats strewn between various platters of cheese. Both of the table ends held fruit horns with grapes, oranges, apples, nectarines, figs, and fanuk.

My thoughts were interrupted as loud voices entered the room. I turned my attention to the door and picked out my father’s face as he came to an abrupt halt. I kept my hands clasped in my lap beneath the table to prevent him from catching sight of my ring. His eyes burned into mine, filled with concern before catching the sight of the man to my left, then his brow lifted with question. I knew where his mind went—Matty. But I couldn’t read his facial expression well enough to pick it apart.

On either side of my father, Vito—Daddy’s underboss—and Sunny came to stand. Vito’s thin face wore a harsh and furious expression as he sneered at the two of us sitting at one head of the table. I turned my gaze to Sunny, unable to keep my eyes on Vito any longer, and the ever so slight upturn of Sunny’s lips as he discreetly winked at me provided some comfort. I released a heavy breath that I wasn’t aware I’d held in.