Amore part 1, p.3
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       Amore: Part 1, p.3

           Bella Jewel
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  Hell yes.


  We kiss for more than an hour. Slow painful torture of the best kind.

  He doesn’t rush; he just makes out with me like my mouth is the only place he wants to be.

  Eventually, he moves his lips from mine, leaving me swollen and content, and moves them down my neck, gently nipping at my skin as his hands run up my sides, taking my dress with them. I shift, let him slide the dress up and over my head, and then wiggle back closer to him. He sucks in a breath when his eyes drop to my breasts, and heat flares in his eyes. “Beautiful,” he rasps, running his thumb over the curve of my breast beneath my lacy black bra. “Take this off.”

  I reach around behind me with shaky fingers and gently pull my bra off. Maybe I should be reconsidering. I am coming across as really easy right now, but, credit where it’s due—kissing him has the same effects as a drug, so I’m not really thinking straight. “Maybe we shouldn’t, ah . . .” I whisper, but he cuts me off with another deep, intense kiss.

  “Don’t be concerned,” he says when he pulls back. “We’re just having fun.”

  “Just fun?” I breathe, trying to hold in my moan as he drops his mouth to my nipple which is hard and ready for him.

  “Yes, cara. Fun.”

  I want to protest, really I do, but he’s sucking my nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it, and suddenly I don’t care that I’m being a dirty little tramp by sleeping with a man I don’t know.

  Hot fingers travel down my sides, past my hips, and to my panties. He tugs suddenly and they come off with a loud rip. I jerk but he keeps sucking my nipple, not letting up, and I can’t bring myself to care about my panties for a second longer. I moan and arch up to him, letting alcohol drive my actions. He shrugs his suit jacket off, then takes hold of the top button on his shirt and pops it, all while sucking my breasts.

  He pulls back, and by the time he does I’m panting, looking up at him from my spot on the sofa. He looks like a god as he slides the shirt off and tosses it aside. The light illuminates his incredible body, and I see he doesn’t have one single tattoo on his flawless skin. I like tattoos, but seeing a man as powerful as him without them is equally as hot. He reaches for his pants and pops the top button, and my mouth goes dry.

  He grins and lets go, placing a hand on my chest and pushing me backwards so my back is flat against the sofa. Then he grabs my hips and scoots me down, and before I know what he’s doing, he hauls my hips up and brings my pussy to his mouth. Then he licks. Long, deep strokes from top to bottom and back up again. I gasp and then cry out as he sucks and licks, his oral skills every bit as dominant as the man himself. My toes curl, and my heels press into his back as he devours me.

  “Oh God,” I cry out, arching up, never having felt something so incredible in my entire life. I’ve only slept with a few men and none of them, God, none, took my body like this.

  I come in a matter of minutes, and nothing I can do holds it back. I arch up, my legs tighten, and my body explodes in the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had. I see stars, and my entire world blacks out for a second. I vaguely hear the sound of a condom wrapper being torn, and then Rafael is positioned over me, placing my legs around his hips.

  He brings his cock to my entrance and slides home in one, swift stroke. I gasp, he grunts, and then he starts to fuck me.

  He fucks me like the virile male he is. Swift, hard strokes that go just deep enough to press against my already sensitive nerves. He doesn’t pound, he doesn’t glide—he just fucks with perfect precision. My fingers find his back and I glide them down his bunching muscles, admiring the strength of him. So fucking perfect.

  “Yes,” I breathe, arching up, pressing my breasts to his warm chest.

  He brings a hand down, grabbing my thigh and using it to tilt my hips and drive his thrusts. “Fuck,” he grinds out, picking up his pace. “Up.”

  Without notice, he pulls out of me, and I catch a glimpse of a very beautiful cock before he spins me around and presses my front over the back of the sofa. Then he’s back inside me, deeper this time. One hand finds my hip and the other tangles in my hair, and then he really brings it home. He fucks me so hard I scream. I can’t hold it back. It feels so incredible, so dirty, so erotic that I don’t even want to try.

  His cock takes my body and makes it its slave. Every part of me belongs to this man in this moment. His sounds of pleasure make my pussy clench around him and every time that happens, he makes a deep guttural sound in his throat. “Beautiful,” he grinds out, fucking me harder. “So fucking beautiful.”

  “Yes,” I cry as my body coils tighter and tighter. “Oh God, yes.”

  He reaches around, and his thumb finds my clit where he gently rubs. I can’t contain it—I come. I’ve never come like this before, and it is incredible. It starts as a low, warm pulse deep in my belly and quickly expands to being an intense throbbing that explodes from within. I cry out his name and clutch the sofa so hard my fingers go white, but God, it’s worth every second.

  He follows close behind me with a ragged rasp and one last thrust of his hips. Then he exhales loudly and wraps an arm around my belly, bringing me up so my back is pressed against his chest. His muscles pull and move—that feels pretty incredible. He drops his head into my neck and inhales my hair. God. So intense.

  After a few moments, he finally pulls out and eases us off the sofa. He disappears into a bathroom and I stand there, naked except for my heels, wondering what the hell I just did?

  Who fucking cares? It was amazing.



  Rafael returns three minutes later and by then I’ve pulled my dress back on, pantiless. I sit on the sofa, staring at him as he moves like a lion towards me. He’s got his pants back on and nothing else. My eyes travel the length of him, moving over his well-formed pecs, that sizzling six-pack, and the man V. So hot.

  He clears his throat and my eyes jerk back up to find an amused grin on his face. “Enjoying the view, Julietta?” he asks, picking up his shirt and sliding it back on, slowly doing up the buttons.

  “Julie,” I breathe. “You can call me Julie.”

  His eyes meet mine. “I prefer Julietta.”

  Oh boy.

  “Ah, well, I should go,” I say, standing. “Thanks for . . .”

  My voice trails off when a loud knock sounds at the door. Rafael’s eyes flash to it, then he shrugs on his suit jacket before walking over. “Sit, cara. This won’t take long.”

  I squirm uncomfortably, but stay seated. Rafael opens the door and two men, both wearing black suits, enter. Their eyes fall on me, and my face flushes red. Oh God. He just let them in here when my panties are torn and probably flicked over a chair somewhere? The tallest of the two men looks a good deal like Rafael, with his long dark hair and piercing brown eyes. It’s him who stares at me the longest.

  “Sorry for the interruption, boss,” he finally says, turning to Rafael. “We’ve got a problem.”



  My heart pounds as my eyes find Rafael’s. He’s staring at me, his expression unreadable. I stand on shaky legs. “Ah, I, um . . .” I begin, but Rafael puts his hand up.

  “Julietta, this is my brother Vincent Lencioni and a very good friend of mine, Benito.”

  My entire body goes rigid. What did he just say? I know that last name. Everyone knows that name. If this is his brother, then that makes him . . . oh God. Boss. They called him boss.

  My knees start to tremble as the pieces fall together. I just fucked the boss of the Italian mafia. I think I’m going to vomit. This can’t be happening.

  “I’m going to leave,” I say, feeling the color drain from my cheeks.

  “Don’t,” Rafael says, his eyes intense.

  The way he says that has fear clutching my chest. Does me sleeping with him mean I’m tied to him? Do I owe him something? Will he follow me? Want to keep me? Bile burns my throat, and I fra
ntically glance around for my purse. “I need to go,” I say, turning to rush towards the door which is now clear.

  “Julietta,” Rafael calls, but I run out as fast as my trembling legs will take me.

  I don’t stop running until I’m out of that club and on the subway train headed home.

  What the hell did I just do?



  I watch as she runs out the door, her hair flowing behind her, tripping over her own feet. I sigh and run a hand through my hair, before turning my eyes to Vincent and Benito. The two closest men to me. My most trusted.

  Vincent raises his brows and mutters, “Another one, Raf?”

  I grunt and find the glass I put down sometime during my seduction of the sweet, young, sassy Julietta. “None of your business, brother.”

  “You need to pick one and stick with it.”

  I glare at him. “I’ll do what I want.”

  He puts up his hands. “No problem here, boss. I’m just thinking of your reputation. Not to mention Maria’s.”

  Maria. My wife.

  When my father became ill four years ago and I was in line to become leader, I had no choice but to take a wife. My father’s best friend and lifelong partner Riccardo, who comes from one of the oldest and most powerful Italian bloodlines, figured his daughter would be best suited for that position. Maria was given the chance to go off to college when she was eighteen but decided to stay with her father, fully understanding her responsibility to the mafia if she remained. I guess it’s the only life she ever knew and so she was happy to take her place.

  She has a strong background and knows the life. The perfect wife to give me sons. Two Italian bloodlines that would make one hell of a connection when joined. Maria and I do not love one another, but we respect our relationship. I care about her, but she does nothing to calm the raging passion I’ve always carried around with me. She does, however, understand my position and the fact that I take other women. It’s not right, but it is part of my life.

  In our world, it isn’t cheating. In fact, a leader without a mistress can be misconstrued and thought of as weak and powerless.

  We marry only to produce sons to further extend our strong lines, and to take over when we pass. If I do not have a son, then Riccardo, if he’s still alive, will be next to step up if something were to happen to me. My wife is well aware that I have had mistresses—three of them, to be exact. None of them have stuck. After a few weeks, I find them boring and unappealing. I want a mistress who sparks fire in my belly, a woman I can keep on the side permanently.

  A woman like Julietta.

  No woman in my lifetime has made me want the way I wanted her. Sassy, cute and a free spirit, she is the kind of woman I could keep in my life without even a second thought. Remembering her nails gliding down my back as her heels spurred me on has my cock hardening once more. I shouldn’t have lied to her when she first asked who I was, but I saw the wariness in her eyes and knew she would have done a runner if she’d known.

  Like she did just now.

  “My reputation does not touch Maria,” I mutter, finally turning my attention back to Vincent.

  “No, I imagine it does not,” Vincent says, his eyes holding mine.

  “Why are you here? I sent you out for a job; you’re back way too soon. So, explain to me exactly what happened.”

  “We encountered a problem,” he says, his eyes flicking to Benito.

  I shift, my shoulders stiffening. That word is not something I like hearing. “A problem?”

  “Yes. We arrived to overlook the shipment, but when we got there it was gone.”

  My eyes narrow, and anger bubbles in my chest. “Gone? I had three men there waiting. How the fuck could it be gone?”

  “That’s the thing, boss. It was. Disappeared. Not a trace left behind.”

  “And my men?” I grind out through my teeth.

  “Gone too.”

  Fuck me.

  It would appear this is not my night.



  Tears run down my cheeks as I look to Celia, who is staring at me with big eyes and a gaping mouth. “I’m sorry, please repeat yourself.”

  I put my head in my hands and hiccup. “I slept with Rafael Lencioni.”

  She makes a strangled sound, before shouting, “Are you fucking nuts?”

  “I didn’t know!” I cry, looking up at her.

  She starts waving her hands around, as if that’ll make this any better. “How could you not know?”

  “I called you to come over to help me figure this out, not yell at me. And, he told me is name was Rafael, but I didn’t know that was the damned boss’s name. He didn’t tell me his last name and when we went into the office, he said he was watching the club for a friend. I didn’t know!”

  Her face scrunches. “How did you find out?”

  “His brother came in and he called Rafael boss, and then Rafael introduced his brother and said his last name, and it clicked.”

  “Oh boy,” she says, rubbing her hands over her face. “This is bad.”

  “I ran out, and he didn’t follow me, but I left my purse, Celia. That means he will know my full name and address.”

  “This is bad,” she says again.

  “Do you think I’ll owe him something?” I say, feeling my skin prickle. “Oh God, what the hell have I done? Do I already know too much? Will he shoot me or something?”

  “You’re over-reacting. Calm down,” she says, but she looks worried for me. I can see it in her eyes. “They do these things all the time. Many girls probably go there and end up in his bed. You need to breathe, calm yourself, and wait to see what happens.”

  “I can’t believe I was so stupid,” I whisper, dropping my head in my hands.

  “Hey,” she says, sliding across my bed and wrapping her arm around my shoulder. “You didn’t know.”

  “I’m such a whore.”

  She laughs softly. “No, you’re not. I saw him when he saved you from that man. Any woman would have laid down and spread ’em for him.”

  “Do you have to be so crude about it?” I ask, giving her a death stare.

  She shrugs. “Facts are facts.”

  “He knows where I live,” I whisper.

  “I have never heard of mafia members tracking down girls they slept with and chopping them into a thousand tiny pieces or forcing them to become sex slaves. Pretty sure you’re safe.”

  I scowl at her. “I’m serious right now.”

  She squeezes my shoulder. “So am I. You want me to stay the night?”

  I shake my head, knowing I need the time to clear my thoughts. “No,” I whisper. “I’m just going to go to bed and sleep this off.”

  She stands, smiling down at me with warmth. “It’ll be fine, honey. He’ll probably have someone drop the purse off and you’ll never see him again.”

  I nod, keeping a brave face.

  She hugs me and then leaves.

  How did one night with this man turn into such a mess?


  My feet ache as I rush down the halls of our local hospital, where I’ve been employed for the past two years. I love my job, but sometimes the hours are exhausting. I’m working nightshift, and it always seems to take the most out of me. I’ve been working for five hours, but during that time I’ve literally been running. We’ve had so many people in the ER tonight, more than usual, so it’s been hectic.


  I stop, my shoes squeaking as I turn to see Dr. Mathews waving at me as he rushes my way, his white coat flapping as he does. I sigh. I like Jacob Mathews. There was even a time I had a major crush on him, but he played the nurses like we were disposable, and I instantly became turned off. That, of course, only made him want me more and for the last month he’s been charming as hell as he’s been desperately trying to win me over.

  “Dr. Mathews,” I greet, smiling because I have to, not because I am in the mood to. “What can I d
o for you?”

  He frowns, and I can’t deny that he has a beautiful face. Soft, messy chestnut hair, hazel eyes, and a super masculine jaw. He’s gorgeous in the model kind of way. He’s also tall and well-built, a bonus. “Call me Jacob, and you look exhausted.”

  He noticed. Although, now I am somewhat embarrassed he is seeing me at less than my best. “Busy night,” I say, rubbing my wrists, which are aching. They do that sometimes.

  “It’s slowed down now; you should be taking a break.”

  “I have to give these gauzes to Olivia first.”

  He extends a hand. “Let me take them. You go and sit in the break room, and I’ll join you in a moment.”

  I want to protest, but I am so utterly exhausted that I decide a break is worth putting up with unwanted chit chat. “Okay, sure.”

  I hand him the gauze and he smiles, showing dimples. I give him a smile and turn, rushing towards the break room. When I get in, I go straight to the coffee machine and make myself a coffee, before retreating to a sofa sitting in the corner. I slide down onto it with a sigh. My feet feel like a giant weight has been lifted off them and they ache in protest, but it’s a good, relieving kind of ache.

  I glance around anxiously, not knowing what to do with my hands. That’s because my cell is in my purse, which is still in the grips of Rafael. It’s been more than twenty-four hours since I ran out, and thus far I haven’t heard or seen anything. I thought he would have come over or sent someone to return my things the next morning but he never showed. Maybe he doesn’t know my purse is there.

  I sigh.

  I’m trying to avoid thinking about him at any cost, but he consumes my mind. The way he fucked me has every cell in my body coming to life each time I think about it. I’ve never had someone take me so thoroughly. It was incredible. A part of me wishes he wasn’t affiliated with the mafia, so I could have more. But he is. Which means I need to forget about it, and him, and move on.

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