Mafia Grace

© 2022 Diane Portman-Ray All Rights Reserved Copyright All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher except the case of a brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission request, write to the author. This book contains explicit sexual content, violence, and it’s destined exclusively to a mature audience (+18). This book has no political, social, or religious affiliation, it does not have an educational purpose, and it’s not in relation with any religious belief. Author: Diane Portman-Ray @author_dianeportmanray [email protected] Cover: Diane Portman-Ray Proofreading: Lea Joan Formatting: Diane Portman-Ray Chapter 1 I was flushed and sweaty, still covered in the evidence of our sex, laying on top of a king size bed. The bed was the only thing in the room except from our naked bodies. No dresser, no nightstand, nothing except from the washed-out grey walls and our bed. Salvatore got this apartment for us to use almost two years ago, but he never bothered to put any furniture in it except from the kitchen table, two chairs, and this exact bed we were in right now and we made love on all of them. Salvatore had his face hidden in the pillow whilst I was staring at the ceiling, safely tucked under his strong arm. I was already missing him, even if he was right there, but knowing that our time was coming to an end – again – was like a knife to the chest. Every time we were together, I swore to myself it would be the last, but when he called, I always came running. I craved his presence. I craved his eyes on me. When he wasn’t in the room, I wasn’t completely alive. That was my cross to carry. I couldn’t be with him, but couldn’t live without him. Feeling too hot for my own good, I pushed my body up and walked into the spacious bathroom to find a towel and clean myself off. I took my time taming my hair and washing my face with ice cold water before going back into the bedroom. “Grazi, come back to bed.” Salvatore growled. He was just like I’d left him, flat on his stomach, naked, every single one of his muscles exposed. His body was the stuff of Greek legends, all ripped and hard, inch by inch covered in muscles. His back was covered entirely by a tattoo – the map of Palermo with two red roses marking the Fiori palazzo and my father’s estate. The city we loved, his home, and mine. I kneeled next to him on the mattress and traced a line from one rose to the other. I was with him when he got it, on my sixteenth birthday. La nostra vita sulla mia pelle[1], that was his present for me. “I should get back home.” “No.” “I said I’ll be there for dinner, Salvatore. It’s almost six.” Out of nowhere, I was pulled back into bed and trapped under him, the skin of his chest sticking to my breasts. There was no point in trying to escape. He was built like a mountain. “Your father and brothers are still in Aquino. I don’t think they’re going to show tonight.” “How do you know that?” “How do you think?” He must have put a tail on them. Crazy man. I squeezed my eyes, trying to focus on my breath and not the fears. I should have been used to living under a cloud of danger by now, but it never got easier. Not for me. I feared for him more than anything because if my father were to find out about this, the gates of hell would open. “Salvatore if they find out…” “They won’t. Don’t I always take care of you?” I hated that the answer to that question was yes. My life began with Salvatore. He was there by my side since I was just an infant and he always took care of me. He kissed my scraped knees when I’d fallen off the bike, held my hand on my way to school, sat through countless hours of ballet rehearsals, and taught me how to handle a gun. He stood behind me even when he was ordered to stay away. The only thing that Salvatore didn’t do for me, was let me go. “We need to stop,” I whispered. There was no conviction behind my words. “Stop what?” He asked while kissing down my neck. The sensation of his lips was so familiar, it was almost part of me. Every day, I was walking around wearing him on my skin, his presence more permanent than the tattoo on his back. “You know what I’m saying.” “I think you want me to stop kissing your neck so I could move on to your beautiful tits, Tesoro[2]. Is that it?” “I’m being serious.” “So am I. My cock is calling for you.” “Salvatore!” “Say my name like that again.” I was so helpless in front of him. Salvatore Fiori was everything that made me weak. I knew the right thing to do was to end this and I promised myself every day that it was the last time, but all it took was one soft touch, one look, one kiss, and I was a slave to his desire. The chains he put around my wrists thickened with time and sometimes I wondered if there even was a chance for me to escape. Was there a point in trying to fight him, or should I just let go and wait for whatever fate had in store for us? “Salvatore, please.” “There’s my good girl.” His hand traveled down slowly until he made it to the junction of my thighs. “How can you say you don’t want me when you’re so wet, Grazi?” “I never said