Vengeful Mafia Prince (Vicious Heirs #2)

Chapter Eleven—Elena

I hesitate outside of the door of his gorgeous apartment block. I know I shouldn't be here. It's risky, even being this close to him, after everything I know he's done.

But it's been a day since I found out the truth, and after that, I had sex with him. I had sex with him. I can't believe it's even true, that I would even do something so abjectly stupid, but I did. I wanted him, and I still want him, and I need to handle this for the sake of my own sanity as much as I do anything else right now.

I stroll up to the doorman and offer him as bright a smile as I can muster, given the circumstances.

"I'm here to see Giovanni," I explain, and he steps aside and gestures for me to go in. That easy, huh? Almost as though he's been waiting for me...

I head for the stairs. I can feel the blood pounding in my ears, through my entire body, like it's lighting every piece of me on fire at once. I don't even know if he's in, don't even know if I will see him right now, but every inch of my body is crying out as though it already knows.

And when I step out of the elevator, there he is, leaning in the doorway, barefoot in jeans and a tee. He's holding a glass of scotch, and he takes a long sip as he observes me.

"I was wondering when you'd come."

He turns and heads into the apartment, leaving me to catch up with him.

"How— how did you know I would come?" I ask him, stunned. Surely, after everything that's happened, he should be trying to put as much distance between the two of us as possible.

"How did you know I'd be here?" he counters. I part my lips in surprise. I guess he's right. After all the lies he's told me, why would I believe that he would tell me his real address?

"I just had a feeling," I whisper, finally.

He nods. "Yeah. Me too. You want a drink?"

I nod, and he pours me a scotch and gestures for me to come out onto the balcony with him. I hesitate before I follow him. Am I really safe going out there with just him? He could... he could hurt me.

But the look in his eyes soothes that instinct in me, and before I know it, I've followed him out onto the large balcony that overlooks the city below. It seems tiny from up here, pinpricks of light scattered all over the place.

"You know who I am." He speaks slowly, with certainty, making sure I've heard him.

I nod and move close to join him. "Yeah, I think I do," I reply. "You're... you're Giovanni Corelli. Your father—"

"Don't mention him," he spits back, anger in his voice. I jerk with surprise. I feel as though one wrong move could cost me everything, and I need to be smarter than that if I'm going to survive this.

"Sorry," I mutter. I take a long sip of my drink. Even now, I can feel the electricity coursing between us.

"So what did you come here for, if you know I want nothing but bad things for your family?" he demands, finally turning to look at me. I can't meet his gaze. I feel as though I'll combust on the spot.

"Because... because I wanted to see you," I confess. "I needed to see you, Giovanni. Because... because I have to tell you that whatever we've been doing, it ends here."

"What part of it, exactly?" he asks as he slides a finger to my waist. Oh, hell. A part of me lights up for him, even though I hate that it does. I want to push his hand away, but more than that, I want him to take me again. I step away from him quickly, trying to regain my composure.

"The... the physical part," I reply. "And everything else. I don't even know who I've been doing it with, Giovanni. I feel like I've been lied to, about— about whatever is going on between us, and if there's one thing I really hate, it's being lied to."

"You really thought when I was fucking you, I was doing it to keep up an act?"

I stare at him.

He moves toward me, planting his glass of scotch on the rail of the balcony. I do the same, mirroring everything about him, almost without thinking.

"I want you, Elena," he continues, his hand moving to my face. He forces me to look up at him, meeting his gaze whether I want to or not.

"You want me to show you how much I want you?"

I swallow hard. "We shouldn't be doing this. I just told you, we can't— we can't keep doing this physical thing between us. It's going to get us in trouble, it's going to—"

"No, you said you didn't want to do that physical thing with Johnny anymore," he corrects me, finger trailing along my jaw and down to my throat. "But a physical thing with Giovanni? You'd want to find out what that's like at least once, wouldn't you?"

His finger is moving further and further down my neck, toward my cleavage. There's this devilish, dangerous smile on his face that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Oh, the way he says it, I could almost believe that this is the right thing to do.

I move in to kiss him, and he pulls back. I let out a gasp of irritation, and he pauses, staring at me for a moment.

"You really want Giovanni?" he asks.

I nod. "I really want him..."

He grins, and with that, he kisses me once more. A shock of pleasure courses through me as he kisses me hard, his tongue thrusting into my mouth and his hand reaching to press mine against his cock.

"You see how fucking hard you make me, Elena?" he growls into my mouth. "You think I could fake something like that?"

I can barely gasp out a reply before he drops down, kneeling between my legs and lifting my butt on to the edge of the railing. He pushes up my dress, running his lips along the inside of my thigh, and I feel every single part of me quiver with a helpless excitement.

"Oh, Elena, you really thought I would believe that you just came here to break things off with me?" he teases as he glides his mouth further and further along the inside of my thigh. "Dressed like this? You knew what I'd do to you..."

He finally presses his mouth to my pussy, through my panties, but the sudden shock of warmth is still enough to draw a desperate moan from my lips. I can feel him grinning against my panties, inhaling the scent of me deeply before he pulls my underwear aside and presses his face against my pussy for real.

I cry out. I can't help it. His tongue swerves long circles around my clit as he rubs his fingers along my outer lips. The sensation is such that I feel like I could come right then and there, my body giving in to the pleasure, but he pulls back before I go too far.

"You like that, Elena?"

I nod, panting. But I know it's not enough. When he gets me talking, he wants me to tell him just how badly I want him. I manage to get the words out, even if I know this is utterly sick and twisted.

"I... I like that."

He grins and goes back to work between my legs, this time drawing my clit between his lips and applying a gentle sucking pressure. My toes curl helplessly. My body is responding to him, the pleasure already brewing deep inside of me.

Before I know what I'm doing, my hands are on his head, and I'm grinding back against him like it's the only thing that matters on earth. He moves his tongue against me again, sending another helpless shiver of pleasure through my system. I can't take this, l can't.

He knows he's coaxing me closer and closer to the edge. I can practically feel that cocky energy coming off him in waves, that reminder that he has me exactly where he wants me, and nothing is going to change that. Even if there's a part of me that longs to have the self-control to turn back and walk away from here, I know she doesn't exist. Not really.

I can feel the orgasm brewing inside of me already as he works his dexterous tongue across me. My breath is coming fast and hard, my belly boiling as the pleasure arches, and arches, and reaches the very edge, and—

And then, he pulls back. I moan loudly, almost forgetting that we're above the city right now. I'm sure someone could see us from the street in this moment, if they were looking, could see him between my legs.

I stare down at him with pleading eyes, begging him for more.

"Turn around," he orders as he wipes his hand across his lips. I can see the glisten of my wetness against it, a reminder of the pleasure he has just so cruelly denied me.

"I..."

"Turn around," he tells me again. This time, he leans in and kisses me hard, giving me a little incentive. As his tongue slides into my mouth, I can taste myself all over him, and I want nothing more than to just let myself get lost to him.

But then, I do as I'm told, my dress still hiked up over my ass to expose me. I can hardly believe I'm doing this.

He tugs my panties down just far enough to expose my soaking pussy, and finally, I feel his cock pressing against my entrance. I'm bent over the wide railing, my body utterly exposed to him, and he knows just how easily he's been able to wind me around his little finger.

He slides into me deep, and I groan, scrabbling at the railing for some kind of purchase. He sinks his fingers into my hips, pulling me back onto him roughly.

"You know, I think I remember you liked getting spanked," he remarks, rubbing his hand across my ass cheek. "Or was that just part of the act, too? Let's see..."

He draws a hand back and lands a sharp spank on my cheek. I cry out, but I can't help but push back against him at the same time. There's something about the way he brings pain and pleasure together that makes me feel a way I've never felt, and I can't resist it.

"Hmm, that's what I thought," he remarks, leaning in close to me as he drives himself even deeper. I gasp as he gropes at my ass where he just spanked it, like he's making sure I know I'm his property, through and through.

He draws back, holding himself there for a moment, and then drives himself back into me. I can feel the orgasm growing again, reaching that helpless point of no return, and all I want is to go over it right now.

Spanking me again, a little harder this time, he begins to pick up the pace. I can't stop myself. I don't want to risk him pulling back and denying me right at the threshold as he did before. I slip my hand between my legs and massage my clit, and he lets out a low groan against my ear.

"Fuck, do you have any idea how hot you look doing that, Elena?" he murmurs, my name still a spell on his lips. "Getting yourself off while I'm fucking you, right here on the balcony?"

I whimper again. I'm so, so, so close...

When the orgasm hits me, it's so intense that it damn near takes me off my feet. The corners of my vision blur helplessly as the pleasure gets the better of me, the shock of it pulsing through every inch of my body. I move my finger even quicker, pushing back against him, taking as much of him as I can.

He thrusts into me deep as I come, and I feel him twitch inside of me the moment before he goes over the edge. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me onto him, tugging me close, his face pressed against the back of my neck so I can feel him panting as he comes.

And as he holds me there, I don't want this moment to be over. I don't want to have to go back to the real world, where we're going to have to face up to everything that has happened, everything that we've done, every lie that he's told me.

But I do.

Slowly, he pulls back, seemingly aware of it the same way I am. I don't even want to turn to face him, it feels too dangerous.

But finally, I do. The pleasure is beginning to dissipate now, leaving room for nothing more than the anger and betrayal.

"I... I should go," I blurt out. I hate myself for giving in to him so easily, but truly, what choice did I have? I can tell myself it's the last time something like this is going to happen, but I sure as hell don't believe it.

"You don't have to," he tells me, his hand sliding to mine. For a moment, I glance down at our fingers interlocked like that, and I think twice about it. I wonder, maybe, if I can find some way to remain by his side.

But I pull it loose and shake my head.

"No," I reiterate. "I— I'm going, Giovanni. Goodbye."

And, with that, mustering up the last of the strength in my body, I make my way to the exit, trying to ignore the painful streak of tears in my eyes and the lump in my throat that warns me I'm making the wrong choice.