Little thief.
I hate the nickname, but it’s fitting.
He’s not wrong, I did love the speed, the car, maybe even the man driving it. “Fine. You’re right.” I fake pout. “My turn?”
His face meets mine, that wide grin still in place. He spins the Tesla around in the street, a move so quick it has me hanging on the side of the car. “Your turn.” he repeats.
I take my place in the driver’s seat, adjusting it so I can reach the pedals. Sitting in this car makes me feel rich and luxurious, something I don’t think I’ve ever felt before.
Gio is still smiling next to me as he settles into the passenger seat.
“Hold on,” I tell him. I set my eyes straight forward on the road and press the gas pedal, the car lurches forward speeding just as quickly as when Gio sat in this seat.
“Yes!” he hollers.
I understand the love for speed now. I feel exhilarated as our surroundings blur by us. My body is pressed against the seat by the acceleration and I can hear Gio laughing beside me.
This is what freedom feels like.
“Last one,” he says once we’ve stopped and I’ve caught my breath. His eyes lock onto mine, “My place or yours?”
He races the Porsche back to his apartment. My body is electrified, every nerve ending is on fire. Even the soft leather feels imprisoning against my skin. I steal a glance at him, his hands grip the steering wheel as he watches the rearview mirror. He’s going over the speed limit, something I’ve never witnessed him do in all the rides he’s given me.
He pulls the Porsche into a gated parking lot, the attendant lifts the gate before Gio is even close enough to produce a key card. I’m not surprised considering the power he wields.
He leads me to a refurbished warehouse in Federal Hill. I’m not completely naive, I know Federal Hill is mafia territory, and has been since the early 1920s. It’s not taught in the history books but all of Providence knows this fact, being a mafia run town is a part of our history. The building is old, but it’s surrounded by new builds. It looks like the area’s been gentrified.
Gio types in a passcode causing the metal door to buzz and open for us. He pulls me through quickly, grabbing my hand and dragging me up the stairs to the second floor. When we reach the landing he pushes me against the cement wall, his hands roaming my body.
“Gio,” I moan. “The hallway.”
“I own this fucking hallway.” He retorts, his mouth hovering over mine. He pressed his body against me, pushing me harder against the wall. His mouth is on mine, his kiss is brutal, taking all I have to offer.
“Please,” Lifting my heavy gaze to meet his eyes. “Inside.”
“Inside,” he repeats, pulling the keys from his pocket and fumbling them into the lock. As soon as the door opens he pulls me in the apartment and is on me again.
I’m not inexperienced, I’ve had sex, but I’ve never been with someone like Gio. His hands are all over my body, feeling me. His kiss is electric, bringing sparks to every inch of me. He demands my attention.
Gio is nothing like the men I’ve been with before. They were all average, and Gio is nowhere near average. Everything about him is extraordinary.
Enchanting.
Invigorating.
For the first time in a long time, I feel alive.
The apartment he leads me into is actually a loft, a huge loft. This has to take up half of the building, there’s no way the other apartments are even comparable in size. The entire place is open, surrounded by red brick walls and dark flooring.
There’s a kitchen in the back with a large island and stainless steel appliances. He has a massive t.v. settled in front of a dark leather sofa. Up the black metal stairs to the loft I make out the shape of a bed surrounded by dark wood tones. The place is open and bright but filled with masculine tones, dark wood, and brick.
It was absolutely beautiful.
Like the man who owned it.
His hands on my body pull me from my admiration of the place and refocus my attention on the man in front of me.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says, his lips kiss my mouth and then move down to the column of my throat.
I feel the heat rise to my cheeks. My whole body blushes in response to his words.
“Has anyone ever told you that, sweetheart?” his hands don’t stop moving over me. My back, hips, butt. They don’t stop exploring.
“No,” I whisper.
“That’s a fucking shame.” his voice is a rough, throaty sound. “Because a beautiful woman like you deserve to be fucking worshipped.”
“Oh, god.” I moan, just from his words and the electric feeling of his hands on my skin.
“Can I show you?” he asks, pressing his body tightly against mine. His lips against my ear. “Can I show you how you deserve to be touched, to be worshipped?” He looks at me, expecting an answer.
“I-” I can’t find the words. I’m so turned on, my body is heavy with need. But I’m also so fucking scared. Scared of what this man will do to me. His eyes are focused on me, waiting. “You’re not like me Gio,” I tell him. “And if I let myself catch feelings for you I’ll never recover. You’ll fucking ruin me.”
A small smile rises to his lips. “It’s too late for that,” he says. “I’m not like you?” his hands grip my waist harder. “Who fucking cares?” he snarls. “I’ll kill anyone who even looks at you the wrong way.”
His possessiveness of me makes me hotter, He presses quick kisses to
