Cat and Mouse (New York Mafia Syndicate #1)

Chapter 14 - Leo

She's mine.

The second I saw Marco near her, something snapped inside me. That bastard had the nerve to talk to Elizabeth, like he had any right to be in her space, looking at her like she was something he could fucking have.

My teeth grind together, jaw clenched so tight I might break it, but I can't fucking help it. My hands are on her before I even realize I've moved, tugging at her bottom lip as I drag her closer. She gasps, wide-eyed, her lips slightly parted, but she doesn't pull away.

"Let me taste you," I growl, my voice low, rough. I'm barely hanging on to control. "You let me taste you, and I'll give you what you want."

Her whole body trembles, and she whispers my name, "Leo..."

It's like music to my ears, that soft breathy way she says my name. She shouldn't affect me like this, shouldn't drive me fucking crazy, but here I am, already on my knees in front of her. Pathetic, right? But fuck it, I don't care. I need her like I need my next breath.

"Please." The word slips out, rougher than I intend. "Fuck... I have to taste you. Just let me, Lizzie. Just let me."

I don't wait for her answer. My hands are already under her dress, and she's parting her legs, giving me what I need. The smell of her arousal hits me hard, making my dick strain painfully against my pants. My mouth is on her thighs, kissing, biting lightly as I move higher. She's already soaked, and I haven't even licked her yet. I drag her black thong to the side, exposing her to me, and the sight makes my head spin. I bury my face between her legs, inhaling her scent before running my tongue over her.

She moans, low and soft, and I fucking love that sound.

"Quiet," I warn her, voice thick with need. "Unless you want someone to hear."

She gasps, barely able to form words, "Yes..."

I can't help but chuckle. "Is that a question, Lizzie?"

She tugs at my hair, hard enough to make me groan. Fucking hell, this woman will be the death of me.

"Why the Mexicans?" she pants, her breath coming in sharp gasps as I replace my tongue with my fingers, sliding two inside her.

"They were working with Marco Rossiani, the guy you were just flirting with," I say between licks, watching her squirm for more. "That's how they killed my father."

Her body jerks at that, but she keeps her legs spread for me. "I wasn't flirting with him."

I respond by sinking my tongue inside her.

"Why?" she breathes, her hips grinding against my face.

"Power," I grunt, sucking her clit hard enough to make her cry out, her hands gripping my hair tighter. "Control."

She clenches around my fingers, and I know she's close again, her legs shaking.

"Is it true?" she gasps, trying to keep her voice steady. "That you have moles... in the department?"

I pause for a second, looking up at her. I nod, smirking as I see the shock in her eyes.

"Fuck..." she groans, throwing her head back.

I pinch her clit between my fingers, watching her entire body shiver. "Enough questions, Lizzie," I growl. "You come for me, and I'll give you a reward. How's that?"

Her eyes snap to mine, desperation written all over her face. "Okay..."

"Eyes on me, then."

She tries her best, really does, but the second I wrap my lips around her again, her head rolls back, and she's moaning loud, too loud. My name, curses, everything spilling out of her mouth as she falls apart for me.

Her breathing's ragged, and she looks completely wrecked by the time I stand, grabbing her waist and spinning her around. I'm so hard it hurts, and I can't wait another second. I drag my cock against her soaked cunt, coating myself in her wetness before I slide in, all the way in.

"Jesus," she cries out, her voice hoarse, hands gripping the table in front of her.

I slap her ass twice, the sound echoing in the room. "That's for coming here when I told you not to," I growl, my voice harsh as I start fucking her, hard, fast, like I need to prove a point.

She's gasping, clawing at the table, and I can tell she's close again. I rub her clit, watching her squeeze me tighter with every thrust.

"You... you didn't use a condom," she manages between breaths, her voice frantic.

I laugh, leaning over her, my breath hot against her ear. "I have all your records, including dental," I mutter darkly before thrusting harder. "I know everything, Elizabeth."

She moans, so fucking loud it sends a shockwave straight through me. "Fuck me," she cries out, her voice ragged.

"Quiet," I growl, yanking her head back by her hair so I can kiss her, claiming her mouth the way I claim her body. She melts into me, giving in, just like I knew she would.

"You're a psychopath," she whimpers, her body trembling beneath me.

"And you're about to come on my cock anyway," I say, pushing her closer and closer until I feel her start to unravel.

She throws her head back, her body tightening, convulsing around me as she comes hard, dragging me right over the edge with her. I groan loud, thrusting deep one last time as I empty inside her, every part of me lost in the moment.

It's long. It's hard. And it's dangerous. But fuck, nothing has ever felt this good.

I stay inside her for a few seconds longer, both of us trying to catch our breath. Then I pull out, turning her to face me, and kiss her hard, one more time. She's shaking, her eyes glazed over, lips swollen from my kisses.

I grab her chin, tilting her face up to mine, staring into those wide, confused eyes. "I know you have a recorder," I say, my voice low and dark. "And I know you can't share any of this."

She doesn't say anything, just stares at me, breathing hard, lips parted like she's still trying to figure out how to respond.

I lean down, brushing my lips over her cheek, then whisper in her ear, "You want to know about Miguel?" I step back and give her a location, one I know she'll follow up on.

"Leonardo," she says, her voice soft, hesitant.

My eyes are locked on hers. "Yes, baby?"

"I'm not your baby," she says, her voice hard, more sure of herself. "And that... that can never happen again."

I smirk, stepping closer to her again. "We'll see," I murmur before kissing her one last time, slow and soft but full of promise.

Then I walk away, leaving her standing there, wrecked and conflicted, knowing damn well this is far from over.

After I leave the room, there's a waiter hovering around, looking uncomfortable, like he knows what I'm going to ask him to do is shady. Probably used to seeing guys like me hand out notes with dirty secrets. Doesn't matter. I wave him over, pull the folded paper from my jacket, and hand it to him.

"Make sure she gets it," I say. "Blonde hair, black dress. She'll be leaving the observatory any minute. You won't miss her."

He nods, glancing around nervously, like he's trying to avoid eye contact with me. Smart guy. People who stare too long usually end up in the ground. He disappears into the crowd, and I look over to where Marco's sitting, his smug face glowing under the dim lights. He catches my eye, lifts his glass, and nods like we're old pals.

I stare at him. The urge to put a bullet between his eyes creeps up, but I bite it down. Not here, not tonight. There's too much at stake, and I still need answers. Marco's just a pawn in this fucked up game, anyway. I'll deal with him later.

The real reason I'm here is to find out who else he's working with. That's what this whole charity bullshit was supposed to be about. But Elizabeth... she threw me off my game. Distracted me in ways I didn't expect.

I should've known better.

I scan the room one more time. The place reeks of money. Tuxedos and evening gowns swirl around like a bad movie cliché, and yet here I am, playing a part in it. All these people, thinking they're untouchable. They have no idea how fragile their lives really are. One wrong move, one wrong look, and everything they have disappears. Just like that.

I've got nothing left to do here. I find my guys near the back, finishing their drinks, and motion for them to follow me.

"We're done," I say, and they nod without question.

We step out into the cool night air. It's a relief after the suffocating atmosphere inside. Too many fake smiles and handshakes. Too much temptation.

I slide into the backseat of my car and lean back, rubbing my temples. Fuck. I can't stop thinking about her. Elizabeth. The way she moaned for me, the way her body shook under my touch. It's driving me insane. I told myself I'd use her and move on, but she's gotten under my skin, in my head.

I wasn't expecting her to be this... addictive.

The driver glances at me in the rearview mirror, waiting for instructions.

"Home," I mutter.

He nods and pulls away from the curb, navigating through the dark streets of the city. I stare out the window, watching the blurred lights pass by. My mind drifts back to her, to the feel of her skin, the way her lips parted when she begged for more.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath. I can't wait to see her again. But this... this is getting dangerous.

I never get attached. Ever. It's bad for business and worse for survival. But Elizabeth... there's something about her. Something I can't shake. And I don't fucking like it.

The drive home is short, but the thoughts in my head make it feel longer. I replay every second of the night with her. How she tasted, how she responded. The sound of her voice when she said my name.

I need to fuck her again. Soon.

When we pull up to my place, I step out without a word and head straight inside. My place is quiet, too quiet, the kind of silence that reminds you just how alone you are. It's been that way since my father died.

Since the Mexicans put a bullet in his head.

I shake off the memories and pour myself a drink, staring at the amber liquid before taking a long sip. The burn of the alcohol does nothing to dull the fire that's been burning inside me all night.

She did well. She earned that information, even if she doesn't realize it yet.

I laugh to myself. Fucking cop, thinking she's got the upper hand. She doesn't even know the half of it. Not yet, at least.

But she'll find out soon enough.

I sit down on the leather couch, taking another sip of my drink. Marco's playing a dangerous game, aligning himself with people who have no problem spilling blood. But that's the game we're all in, isn't it? Power. Control. It's all about who can keep their hands clean while everyone else does the dirty work.

The thought of my father flashes through my mind again. I grit my teeth, swallowing the anger down. No. I won't think about that right now. I can't. Not if I want to stay in control.

I grab my phone, scrolling through messages, contacts, the usual. But my mind keeps wandering back to Elizabeth. That fucking woman.

I down the rest of my drink in one go and stand up, pacing the room. My thoughts are spiraling, and I hate it. I hate not being in control of this. Of her. She's making me weak, and I can't afford that right now. Not when I'm so close to getting what I want.

But I'll have her again.

I walk over to the window, looking out at the city. The lights, the people, the chaos. It's my world. And she's just a small part of it, even if she doesn't know it yet.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, snapping me out of my thoughts. It's a message from one of my guys.

"Got some info on Marco. You want it now?"

I text back quickly: "Tomorrow. Early."

I toss the phone onto the table and run a hand through my hair. Tomorrow. I'll deal with Marco tomorrow. But tonight... tonight I need to get her out of my fucking head.

I pour another drink and sit back down, staring into the glass.

"Elizabeth..." I whisper her name under my breath.

She's going to be the death of me. I know it.

But fuck if I care.

Tomorrow, I'll figure out Marco's next move. I'll track down every last one of those bastards that were involved in my father's death. They'll all pay. Starting with Marco.

But tonight... tonight I'll drink. And I'll think about her. About how she tastes. About how she feels. About how much I want her.

I take another sip, the burn of the alcohol doing nothing to numb the ache inside me.

One more night. That's all I need. One more night with her, and then I'll be done.