Sold to the mafia boss

“I’m sorry, Layla”

That was it. That was the words written in fine letters on it. I felt my stomach clench, my heart seemingly dropped into the pit of my stomach. I tried to smile but it didn’t work.

I looked ahead to the king sized bed. It was neatly made but no sign of Logan there. I knew he placed this flower and letter here for me to find. I took a careful light step forward, stretched a bit to look into his closet.

Although it’s still early in the night, his room is dark, only illuminated by some foreign dim lamp lights seeming to come from the designed walls. Curtains draped from wall to wall, the floor rugged perfectly. Everything in this room screamed money. From the pure white ceiling to the well designed walls to the floor, bed, lamps, tables, sculpt and even the doors.

I stopped after taking the first step. I stopped because I didn’t know if it was wise walking into the lion’s den. The last thing I wanted was pissing him off again. The minute I made up my mind to turn around, I felt cold hands tracing my arms from behind me, followed by the warmth of a much larger body pressing up against my back. I gasped in surprise, biting my lower lip from moaning. I never felt a touch like that before. I found myself leaning into the hard chest behind me, seeking closure and warmth.

His hands left tickling sensations every spot he touched on my arms. I felt Logan’s body press further against my back as he leaned down, his nose nozzled deep on my neck, close to my collar bone. His lips touched a spot I discovered myself at that instance because I felt my body vibrate to the warm touch of his lips as he kissed there. I closed my eyes and tried to think about anything else. His lips did wonders to my skin in ways I could never imagine.

“I’m sorry Layla” he whispered into my ear. I thought I stopped breathing that moment. Before I could digest his deep voice, his hands slid down my waist and he spun me around to face him. He towered over me, his eyes pouring into mine. I looked into them and all I could see was pleas and regret and truth. He meant what he said, there was no doubting that.

The flower glass in my hands in the only thing stopping our bodies from uniting. A smile crept onto my lips and I shyly looked down on the flower.

“This is beautiful”

“Not as beautiful as you, love” he once again whispered seductively into my ear, reaching up to caress my cheek tenderly. His touch made me feel things I’d never felt before. Things I’d never felt with any nother man before even though there’s only been too few of them.

“This is one of the beautiful things Italy prides about, ” he said, causing me to look at his eyes as they now fell on the flower “I couldn’t think of a more perfect gift to bring for you”

“And I love it, Logan. It’s very beautiful” I told him honestly, beaming an honest smile once more.

I saw how he looked at me, loved how he didn’t look away even for a second, how he didn’t blink because he’s scared I’m gonna disappear once he batted an eyelash.© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

“I also loved the painting you sent to me, it’s beautiful”

“I’m glad that you liked it, Layla” his breath fanned my nose as he placed his forehead against mine, his hands still wrapped around my waist. In some eyes, we’d probably look like a couple in love on a dancing floor. I knew that my heart raced for him, almost how it races when you’re with the man you loved. But it never raced this hard after Emma. This race is different and it didn’t scare me. I loved every bit of it.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you, Layla. I wish to never do such a thing”

“I know…..” I angled my face up to him, my eyes perched on his lips “I should never have tried to leave. I’m sorry”

His lips twitched and he smiled into my lips. I smiled, more to myself and watched the rose glass again.

He moves me to a certain angle and holds my chin up. I watched him lower his face to me and gently claimed my lips with his. My body moves on its own when I lean over, and then finally brushed my lips against his. I can taste the surprise on his lips as he tightens his hold on me, almost as if he was afraid I’d slip right through his fingers the longer our lips touched. And the same urgency found its way into my system as well, because soon I end up arching my back, needing more and more contact with him. He must taste my desire, his tongue now flicking over my bottom lip. I invite him in, teasing and challenging him with every stroke of my tongue. I don’t know how long we do this, losing ourselves in each other, but I know I don’t want to stop kissing him.

I heard him moan and pull away, his hands running up my arms to hold me back.

“I know that….. you don’t want this” he muttered, looking anywhere but my face.

I watched him in utter surprise. I couldn’t remember when we ever shared a kiss as real and genuine and natural as this.

“You’re probably just letting me kiss you because…. because you’re scared of me” he adds.

I was stunned, standing there, swallowed by his taller figure. Then I realized immediately that I’d broken my trust with him today. I could be pretending to be into him for all he cared. I didn’t know how to fix that so I decided to not give him benefits of doubts.

“Have you eaten?” I asked him as I stepped away from him.