As for Annie, she was always shy, but she became exceptionally shy after that. She became so afraid, so much more aware of the dangers out there. It took Bruno a while to get her to open up, but she’d climbed out of her shell a hell of a lot since then. Most importantly, she held on tight to Bruno from that day forward, knowing she’d found her man. And she was right.
Bruno’s dark heart felt only for her. He’d often wondered whether his heart sensed her innocence from the start. Attracted to the overwhelming good in her, he refused to let her go. She kept him sane in his ugly world of violence, murder, and hate. Having Annie at his side gave him so much more than a convenient place to get his rocks off. She became his anchor. Gave him a purpose outside himself, beyond his own selfish greed for money and power. When he’d come to America he’d wanted to stay single and focus everything he had on getting to the top. But her, his sweet Annie he could not resist. Everything about her enhanced who he was, made him stronger. She believed in his dreams even more than he did. And, even though he was a soulless bastard, he loved her, he was sure of that. Nobody had taught him about real love until he met her. He’d never once cheated on his girl, and he was proud of that.
The floozies who threw themselves at him weren’t worthy of his love.
Nobody was, but her.
They couldn’t afford to marry, but no doubt about it she was his till the end. Because of her, he could never regret any of the choices that brought him to this moment.
Bruno stretched in his chair and reclined it backward. Beyond exhausted, his heavy eyes were about ready to close for the night when he caught a glimpse of a shadow crawling along the wall. Keeping the rest of his body still, his hand felt for his gun. Sliding it from his belt and concealing it under his shirt, he snapped his head to the left and his cold heart warmed instantly. Seeing his Annie lingering in the doorway, resting on the door jam, he quickly shoved his weapon away.
A slow smile crossed her lips.
Looking into the cool, mesmerizing eyes of his woman, Bruno swallowed the saliva collecting in his mouth. Suddenly solid as iron from the fire, his cock jumped to attention. Everything about her appealed to him. Everything, just as she was. Like the delicate, masterful music she played, there was something about the quiet, sensual woman that powerfully attracted him. The couple had been together a long time by Bruno’s standards. And yet, her effect on him was as strong as when he’d first met the woman he would claim as his, and his alone.
“Did I wake you?” he murmured.
“It’s all right,” she said, stepping into the room. “I was only closing my eyes until you got home.” It was sweet. The woman couldn’t sleep at night until he was there beside her, held her breath each day until she knew he’d come home safe. Drove her crazy when he had to go on the road with the crew.
As she walked his way, slow, and effortlessly sensuous, Bruno saw her more clearly. Her jet black hair flowing like silk over her petite five foot five, 120-pound frame. She wore the same type of clothes as when he’d met her: long sleeve turtleneck jumpers and faded blue jeans, and managed to look even better. Everything about her was asking to be fucked senseless. Like her beauty had been honed to another level of perfection. She had that sort of holy-shit-stunning figure most women prayed for, and teenage girls would kill for. One of those perfect ten girls to whom luck or fate had dealt her life a perfect hand…. At least, until the night she’d met Bruno.
When her body reached him, a raw, visceral energy zinged between them. She bent at the knees and brought her mouth to his forehead to plant a lipstick stain on his skin. And Bruno didn’t mind one iota. Meanwhile, his eyes had drifted downwards, to her cleavage. Sweeping her hand to the ground before she rose, he noted she took both his shoes in hand. “You must be hungry. Want me to bring your dinner in here for you?” she asked, angling her face to meet his eyes.
Inwardly, Bruno smiled. He loved her this way: naive, nurturing…. dependent. And he hoped she’d never change.Talk about wishful motherfucking thinking.The mob life corrupted everyone it could touch with its icy fingers. That’s why he kept her away, shielded her from it as much as he could. Shut her in the house, chained her to the stove all day, Bruno wanted to make sure she didn’t know what her husband was.
But she knew, even if she didn’t allow herself to know on a conscious level. Annie had told him, in her own sweet way, she thought he was being a class A control freak ? which he was. ‘You’re holding the trigger to tightly, Bruno,’ she’d tell him. ‘You’re so afraid to lose control, I feel like you’re an animal in a cage.’ She didn’t understand. In the past, she’d told Bruno she wanted to be more independent. Well, that ship had fucking sailed the night he spotted her in one of Castillo’s bars ? innocent, adorable, HIS. Besides, Bruno knew she secretly loved taking care of him, he could feel it.
She repeated her question but the big man didn’t answer right away. He was too engrossed in Annie. He still remembered how she looked the night he’d met her… those big blue eyes, bright pink lips, hair free flowing over a form-fitting burgundy dress. He’d tried to fight his desires, knowing he was no good for a woman like her, but he’d craved her like he’d needed a high. He wasn’t sure why he felt attracted to her to such a profound level. But what he did feel certain of was that in one look, in one glance, he knew she would be his.
He looked up at her, not feeling so sleepy anymore. “No, I’d like to eat with you,” his low baritone purred.
She smiled. It wasn’t often they got to have a sit-down meal together these days, but she always prepared supper for two just in case. “I’ll just heat up our plates and you can come on through in a jiffy.” Shoes in hand, she headed out the doorway, ass moving rhythmically below her killer little waist, so conducive to Bruno’s twitching cock.
When she disappeared from sight, he waited to hear the turn of the knob to the kitchen door to quickly pull his gun from the waist of his trousers and tuck it deep behind the cushion of the sofa. Weapons and women didn’t mix.
Joining her in the other room, he took a seat on one of the kitchen chairs around the table in front of the plate with the largest portion. Swallowing a bite of his chicken, he realized his appetite had bizarrely dissipated. It confirmed his suspicions that the hunger he felt was not for food. Licking his lips, he eyed her sexy little ass from behind as she fixed the drinks. He couldn’t help it, a full day’s denial of his instincts was more than he could handle.
Rising from his seat before Annie could sit down, Bruno shifted the plates and cutlery onto the counter then took control, lifting the hem of her turtleneck, exposing those cute little dimples on her lower back. When she pulled away and ran around the other side of the table, he gladly chased after her. She could run away from him, but she couldn’t avoid the inevitable. Grasping his woman by the waist, he lifted her up and held her under his arm. Hoisting her onto the kitchen table, caveman style, he put his knee onto the lip of the table his body hovering over hers, sinking low until her eyes met his. Sapphire gems, with thick dark lashes, curled ever so slightly.Fuck, they were beautiful.
She blushed, biting her bottom lip. “Bruno—”
He held a hand over her mouth, silencing her. “Hush. I don’t want to fuck you. I only want to hold you,” he uttered softly, inching closer to her velvety lips.
Crushing his lips to hers, he kissed her deeply, her mound brushing against his cock. The way the curves of her body fit under his made their contact so scorchingly intense, it verged on pain. Certain that her panties were already wet, he reached down to unbutton her jeans and gently slid his hand inside, resting it on her panties to check.
Pulling her mouth away, she avoided his heated gaze.
Slowly toying with her clit, making her wetter against her will, he loved to see how far he could take her without letting her climax. Tugging her jeans off, he moved his hand up her calves, and then to her thighs, letting his fingers wander over her panties.
Moaning against his lips, she arched her back to meet his exploring fingertips.
He ripped her panties off and dove two fingers into her.
“Mmmm,” she moaned, arching underneath his muscular frame. She rose slightly to guide him into her deeper but he slapped her hand away. He spread her legs wide, pinning her down on the table. He pressed into her, kissed her mouth, then that cute strawberry birthmark on her neck, then back to claim her lips again, his tongue dancing circles around hers. She tried to unbutton his shirt but he wouldn’t let her, not yet.
Casting his gaze downward, he pushed her knees up and raised her ass to his mouth. She couldn’t hold back her moans when he buried his face into her pussy. Poking his tongue inside her, he sucked and swirled his tongue, lovingly, tenderly, groaning in satisfaction. She grabbed a fistful of his hair in pleasure, silently begging for more. She cried out for him to slow down but his tongue moved faster until she was whimpering in frustration at the mercy of his tongue. Her clit swelled against his lips, and she moaned into orgasm. He didn’t stop, didn’t give her a chance to recover before he took over her again. Blood roared through his cock as his tongue twisted around her clit in a fury.
“Your turn,” she moaned.
