Catching Bianca: A Dark Mafia Romance (Shadows of Obsession Book 4)
Catching Bianca: Chapter 25

By the time we get home, Bianca’s cooled off.

Either that, or she’s decided not to waste her breath on me.

As soon as we enter my condo, she kicks her heels off and marches into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Maybe she’s not as calm as I thought.

I lock the door, set the alarm, then fill a glass with Bourbon, tossing in a few ice cubes. Just as I sit down at the breakfast bar, the guest bedroom door opens again. Soft footsteps and the sound of something being dragged fills the air.

My ears perk up, eyes on the corridor until Bianca appears, wheeling her suitcase behind her.

“Going somewhere?” I ask.

“As far away from you as I can manage.” Her voice trembles, but she marshals her expression into defiance.

I hate that she’s keeping her defenses up. I’ve had a few glimpses into her vulnerable, human side and enough time with her to read between the lines… which means staying away from her is that much harder now.

It’s not that Bianca’s a tough, independent woman. Deep inside, she’s amicable, but petrified of showing that side. Petrified of showing that she enjoys affection. That she wants to be touched, cared for, hugged, and spoiled. She’s petrified of losing control because she’s certain it’ll backfire in her face.

She’s guarding her emotions so fiercely that breaking through the walls she’s built around herself seems almost impossible. Maybe they’d crumble with the right push, but I’m already too deep to test the theory in case it’s wrong.

“You know I can’t let you leave,” I say on an exhale, doing my best not to lash out. “You’re safe here.”

“Am I?!” she booms, stomping closer. “Am I? You manhandled me out of the club, locked me in the car, and brought me home, all against my will. You—”

“I was doing my fucking job!” I snap upright, the blatant lie rolling off my tongue without a hiccup.

Hurt floods her features. “Oh…”

There, the reaction I crave, not hurt specifically, but a real reaction, not a mask. Disappointment. Vulnerability at its finest. Real emotions.

Too bad she considers this a weakness she can’t afford. Something to be ashamed of, as if needing reassurance, needing affection, is wrong somehow.

She proves me right when she squares her shoulders back and lifts her chin higher.

“I’m supposed to keep you safe, Winter. How do I do that when you’re locked in a restroom with some random guy?”

“I didn’t realize I can’t date while I’m under your protection.” There’s enough venom in her words that I’d drop dead if she were a spitting cobra. “I wonder what Hailey would say about that. Or Carter for that matter.”

Blood boils in my veins faster than a volcanic eruption. I snatch my phone off the counter and stalk up to her, towering over the petite brunette.

Her scent invades my senses, making me regret my outburst. Both the jealous fit earlier, and this now. Her proximity is as intoxicating as it is frustrating.

“Call him,” I say, shoving the phone into her uninjured hand, the touch of her skin inducing those infuriating tingles. “Go on, call Carter and ask him what he thinks about me leaving you unprotected while you’re fucking a stranger in a filthy restroom. Unless you want Arthur or me to sit in the corner and watch?”

She shoves the phone back into my hand and slaps my face hard enough that it sends my head lolling to the side. “You’re a cold, heartless asshole,” she seethes.

A humorless chuckle falls from my lips. “That’s rich coming from a girl who struts about all day pretending nothing bothers her.” I take another step forward, and Bianca starts backing away. “I’m scorching in comparison to you. You’re the cold, heartless bitch. Not an ounce of real emotion in you.” Her back hits the wall by the mouth of the corridor, big eyes staring up at me. “All you do is assert your independence, how tough you are, how much you don’t need anyone.”

“Because I don’t!” she snaps.

Liar, liar. She says one thing, but the hurt in her eyes says something else entirely.

“Do you really believe that, or are you so scared of getting hurt that suppressing all your feelings is the safer way out?”

Her hand shoots up to slap me again. She got one already. That’s enough. I grab her wrist, then the other, and pin her hands far above her head. I’m fucking fuming, but I’m extra careful, too, remembering the inch-long wound between her knuckles.

“Anger’s a feeling, isn’t it?” she spits out, struggling against my hold.

“Yes, your go-to emotion. Best smoke screen for everything you don’t want to feel. Is a quick, hard, meaningless fuck the height of your emotional abilities?”

Her throat bobs as she swallows, summoning my attention. Fuck, the curve of her neck, the spot between her collarbones… not dipping my head and kissing her there is physically painful.

“Maybe I wanted to date him?” she challenges.

“Don’t insult my intelligence.” I lean further into her. “There’s no point in dating while you push yourself so hard just to avoid feeling. You wanted him to fuck me out of your system. It scares you how much you want me.”

“What if I did?! I came on to you more times than I can count, but you don’t have any interest in pinning me against the wall again for any reasons other than yelling—”

“As pretty as you are, as often as I imagine fucking you again, we’re done. Once was enough. I can’t touch anyone who acts like they’re dead inside, Winter.”

“I’m not dead inside!” she yells, the words raw, her lip trembling, eyes tearing up. “I’m not! I’m just…” She chokes back a sob, the tears falling free, staining her pink cheeks. “I hate how much it hurts when I give a piece of me and get nothing back!”

In the most twisted way, my cock stirs, straining against my zipper as I watch another tear trail from down her cheek all the way to the corner of her pinched lips.

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous when you cry,” I whisper, my inhibitions disappearing.

I press my whole body into her, taking her mouth in a greedy, desperate kiss I’ve waited for since the moment I saw her.

She lets out a startled moan, broken by a tearful whimper. I use that opportunity and sink deeper, pushing my tongue past her lips, the salty taste of tears mixing with the sweetness that’s uniquely hers.

She’s rigid for a second, almost petrified, but with barely a pause, she melts against me and kisses me back with every ounce of suppressed emotion bottled up inside her.

She wiggles her wrists, fighting for freedom, and I oblige, much more interested in sinking my fingers in her hips than holding her hands hostage.

“This is what you wanted?” she whispers, inching away to draw in air. My lips immediately latch onto her neck, sucking the flesh over her pulse point. “To make me cry?”

“To make you feel,” I correct, palming her hips, my face buried in her neck, the scent of her skin putting me under a spell. “I had to know there’s a beating heart in that chest, that you can drop the mask even if you choose not to.”

She weaves her fingers in my hair, guiding my face back to hers for another kiss. “It hurts,” she whispers before taking my lower lip between her teeth and pulling slowly.

“I know.” I grab her by the waist and pin her further against the wall, my hard cock pressing against her tummy. “It’ll hurt forever if you don’t let it out.”

She whimpers into my mouth, jutting her hips and demanding more as her hands rove my shoulders, back, and neck, pulling me closer. “It feels like I’m falling,” she chokes out.

“Fall, Winter. I’ll catch you.”

More tears spill, the salty taste exploding on my tongue, and fuck, if that doesn’t wake a possessive side of my character.

“Beautiful,” I tut. “So fucking beautiful when you feel.” I kiss her again but inch back a moment later, dropping my forehead to hers. “If this is as far as we’re going, now’s the time to say stop, because the moment I drop you on my bed, there’s no turning back.” I kiss a line from her forehead to her ear, nipping gently. “Should I stop?”

She shakes her head, mouthing no when I inch back, admiring her pink cheeks and full, swollen, inviting lips that keep moving.

“Please don’t stop.”

“Do you understand what this means? No more pretending. The minute you’re under me, you bury the cold bitch. I want the real you. No inhibitions, no masks, no tough-girl act.”

“No tough-girl act.” She licks her lips, vibrating with anticipation, tears still not dry. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” I lean over, our kiss a whisper away. She smells so sweet, so tempting. “Strip.”

Her pulse quickens at her neck, betraying surprise. It doesn’t last long. “What did I say about bossing me around?”

Way too much.

All of it lies.

I’ll prove it. I’ll show her how good it feels when she submits. My hand shoots forth, fingers gripping her neck, the touch firm, toeing the line between pleasant and bruising.

“I said strip. I hear you talking back again, and you won’t sit down for days.”

Her throat moves under my fingers as she swallows, the defiance in her eyes still burning strong, but not as strong as curiosity. Slowly, so fucking slowly, she moves her hands to the front zipper of her black dress. Gliding it lower, she doesn’t stop until she reaches the bottom, her dress falling open, draped over her shoulders like a vest.

I glance south, focusing on the three-inch wide strip of bare skin from her neck all the way down to the apex of her thighs. The fabric frames her navel, the valley between her breasts, and a strip of dark hair between her legs.

My mind riots.

“Where the fuck are your panties?”

“The guy you almost killed has them in his pocket.”

Violence scorches my veins, a plan of action forming at light speed. “It won’t be almost after tomorrow.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “You can’t—”

“Oh, but I can.” I close her lips with mine, tasting the sweetness of her mouth and erasing any memory of the blond fucker. She melts against me, the fight hissing out of her muscles. “Good girl,” I whisper.

The praise works like a drug. She’s hooked. It’s clear from the peaks of her nipples hardening under the thin fabric.

She arches into me, her mouth replaceing mine as I drag my hand from her waist, up the side of her body, across to her navel, and up between the swell of her soft breasts. Bianca coos, my cold fingers making her tremble.

I swallow that sound, sinking deeper into her sweet mouth. I’ve imagined this moment too many times, but reality is ten times more intense than the countless fantasies my imagination conjured over time.

I thought she’d make me fight for every sound, for every gasp and reaction… wrong. I’m barely touching her, and she leans in, silently begging for more, her fingers replaceing their way into the short hair at the back of my head.

She’s pliant, willing, and a little greedy in how her tongue tangles with mine. I move my fingers to the left, uncovering one breast. My thumb grazes the underside, making Bianca squirm, her whole body racked by a powerful shudder.

The back of her head hits the wall, eyes closing, lips parting on a sigh when I thumb her nipple.

“Feels good?” I rasp, pressing into her, letting her feel my hard cock bulging against my pants.

“So good,” she mewls.

I kiss her again, harder, greedier. The anticipation reaches its peak, urging me to take what I need. What we both want.

I could fool myself until I turned blue, but the cold hard truth is that Bianca had me the moment I saw her on the screen of my laptop. I fought the feelings she ignited, ignored them, belittled their importance… all for nothing. Once I saw her in the flesh, I spiraled so fast it felt like the ground had vanished beneath me.

She grips fistfuls of my shirt and starts moving, forcing me backward down the corridor and toward my bedroom. I almost laugh at how much she struggles to make me move.

“You think you’ll be dictating the rules?” I whisper and bite her lower lip, my hands full of her hips as I hoist her into my arms. “Forget it. This won’t be an equal distribution of power, Winter. I don’t care much for women taking the lead.”

I enter my bedroom, the novelty of having a woman in my personal space not lost on me. I never fuck in my bed. Every flat surface in my condo is fair game, but my bed is off limits.

Not tonight. I want Bianca here. I want the coconut scent of her on my pillow.

“You’ll bend to my will,” I say, squeezing her ass. “If you can’t do that, close the door behind you on your way out.”

She wraps her legs around me for support, her hands holding my neck, lips dancing with mine. She’s so light, a feather in my arms, delicate, petite, the contrast between us overwhelming and so fucking titillating.

I cross the room in five large steps and drop Bianca on my bed. Her dress opens further, pooling on either side, giving me a full view of her perky breasts, pink nipples hard like candy. Her bare pussy glistens with arousal.

I don’t immediately follow her down. Straightening my back I take a moment to stare and memorize her soft flesh. I map out every dip and curve of that glorious, ready, willing body.

Her cheeks are deliciously flushed, eyes hooded, pupils blown, the pink outlines a turn-on like nothing else.

Who fucking knew seeing her cry would be the final straw?

She wraps her legs around me the second I climb over her, a silent invitation to do as I please.

“Still hoping you’ll dictate the rules?” I laugh, patting her thigh. “Spread your legs for me.”

She does, letting them fall to the sides, but I can tell submitting costs her a great deal. She’d be completely naked and vulnerable were it not for the dress draped over her shoulders.

It covers nothing.

She’s pinned under me, bare, while I’m still fully dressed, my cock hidden away.

Determination scrunches her face, masking her discomfort.

Both feelings need to go. I don’t want her showcasing her independence and I don’t want her uncomfortable in her own skin. I drag my hand up her thigh, loving how she reacts to the faintest sensation. She can pretend all she wants that she doesn’t need anything or anyone, but the way she arches into my touch tells me how fucking starved she is for it.

“Eyes, Bianca. Look at me,” I tut in her mouth once I replace the warm wetness between her legs.

She bites her lip, eyelashes fluttering. When she looks at me, I sink two fingers deep inside her, drunk on the ecstasy bleeding into her features.

“Hold on to me,” I rasp, dipping my head to kiss her collarbone. “Arms around my neck, legs spread wide.”

She obeys, her hands ghosting my arms before tangling in my hair. Her back arches, boobs pressing into my chest.

“Are you… shit,” she gasps when I replace the right tempo, fucking her with two fingers hard and fast.

“Am I what?” I lick her pulse point. Suck and nip.

“Always this bossy in bed?”

“Always.”

Curling my fingers inside her, I stroke her G spot. My cock twitches in time with her walls spasming around my digits. Once, twice, and again. It goes on for a few minutes. She floods my hand, her orgasm building but not cresting.

I rise on my elbow, looking down on her. “You’re holding back on me. Why?”

She arches an eyebrow, the gesture hitting me like a red flag waved before a bull. I pull my fingers out and flip us over so she’s sprawled over my chest. My hand lands on her bare ass, the loud clap making her yelp.

“What did I say about acting out?” I bring her knee up, almost flush with my side. “Arch that brow at me again and the next slap will make you cry.”

Her pupils dilate with a mixture of surprise and arousal. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, gripping my shirt in both hands.

She grinds her pussy against my hard cock, still hidden in my pants. I grip her hips to keep her in place.

“You want my fingers?”

She nods, her cheeks ablaze. “Yes.”

Moving my hand down her back, I stroke the undoubtedly sore ass cheek I spanked. “First tell me why you’re holding your orgasm in check. I can feel you fighting it.”

She swallows hard before speaking. “I just… as soon as I come it’ll be a race to get you off and this…” She huffs, hiding her face in the crook of my neck. “This is nice, okay? I don’t want it to end too quickly.”

My chest vibrates with another laugh, much darker, much lower than before. Reaching over the curve of her ass, I replace her entrance, pushing my fingers back inside. In this position, hitting her G spot is child’s play; I brush that sensitive little button on every thrust. And I get the bonus of Bianca’s weight on top of me, her small hands grasping my t-shirt to anchor herself.

“We have all night.” I weave my fingers in her dark hair and close my fist, angling her head to take her lips in a deep kiss. She trembles, doing her utmost to wind those hips and rub her clit over my hard length. “Fight all you want. I want you to orgasm on my fingers, on my lips, and on my cock, in that precise order.”

For a girl who lives and breathes independence, fiercely clinging to control, she’s surprisingly mellow while I pump my digits in and out of her pussy. The wet sounds filling the room are more erotic than any screams I’ve ever heard.

She moans in my mouth the closer she gets, her kisses greedier, little trembles passing through her.

“You’ll make me come again?” she asks with a gasp, her walls clenching, the orgasm looming close.

“I will.”

“Promise?”

My head hits the pillow. “Behave and you’ll come so many times you’ll beg for a break.”

She nods, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. The uncertainty in her honey eyes tells me more than her words can. With a small nod, she hides her face in the crook of my neck, tension leaving her muscles.

She submits, relinquishing control.

Fucking finally.

“That’s a good girl,” I coo, lips on the crown of her head, the hand in her hair moving to clasp around her back, fingers splayed over her ribs, keeping her close, almost immobile. “So pliant, so fucking perfect for me.”

She mutters something incoherent, her hips working faster the faster I finger-fuck her. It takes another twenty, maybe thirty, seconds before her teeth close on my shoulder.

She’s coming, trembling, the orgasm rocking through her like an avalanche. I hiss when her teeth break the skin, but the mild sting only hardens my cock.

It twitches, precum leaking from the tip, the front of my pants undoubtedly soaked in Bianca’s wetness.

I flip us over again before her legs stop trembling and wind my elbows under her knees, pushing them back to her chest. I still don’t undress, focused on her swollen pussy, glistening with the aftermath of the orgasm.

She smells divine. Looks even better and… I lick her bottom to top, suck her clit… she tastes like mine.

She almost bolts upright, her fingers pumping in my hair like she’s unsure whether to push me away or further down.

“Hands on your boobs,” I order, rising an inch. Enough to look her over but not enough that she won’t feel the heat of my breath on her clit. “Play with them for me.”

Taking her nipples between two fingers, she pinches lightly, and I lick her again, her taste flooding my tongue. The way she writhes, doing her utmost to press herself further into my face, the way she kneads her breasts, the ecstasy painting her face…

Is it possible to fall in love with a woman this fast? Because the way my heart swells tells me it’s very much fucking possible.

Especially now the tears glistening on her eyelashes confirm that she feels. She’s not made of stone. She’s not fine. She puts on a tough-girl act, afraid she’ll get hurt if she opens up.

Her mask is nowhere in sight, the cold bitch dead, and Bianca’s greedy. Starved for touch, drunk on our proximity, desperate for more. She’s not pretending, not holding back. No, she’s demanding more. I’ve never been this entranced with anyone or anything in my life.

I flick her clit with the tip of my tongue, earning a reward in the form of little tremors passing through her. She cants her hips, sweet moans filling my bedroom and ricocheting off the walls.

Best sound in the world.

“Oh, oh…” she mutters, grasping my hair again.

This time, she knows which way she wants me. She pushes my head down further, her orgasm consuming us both.

The flat of my tongue laps and laves every drop, soundtracked by her gasps and incomprehensible words.

“Look at you,” I tut, climbing over her, eye level with her flushed cheeks. “Gorgeous little thing.” I stamp a kiss on her clammy forehead, only realizing what I’ve done when I inch away.

Head kisses are the most intimate part of a relationship. Not that we’re in a relationship, but still. Never mind my tongue on her pussy. Never mind my fingers on her G spot. Nothing is as intimate as my lips on her forehead.

And yet, I don’t regret the impulse one bit.

What’s more, I already want to do it again while she’s curled into my chest, preferably sound asleep in my arms.