Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride (by Oma Green) novel Chapter 28

Gia’s POV

Dante's command shot through me, provoking both fear and desire. Shivers coursed over my skin, and before I could stop myself, I found my head nodding.

I turned and made my way to the bed, heat and shame mixing together inside me.

When I reached it, I quickly unwrapped the towel, refusing to glance back at him, though I could feel his gaze burning into me.

I lay down, pressing my breasts against the sheets. The soft cotton was cool against my nipples, forcing them to tighten into hard, betraying peaks.

I squeezed my eyes shut, desperate to smother the dark passion rising low in my stomach, the ache I didn’t want him to know he stirred.

Then the mattress dipped beside me, and his musky cologne enveloped my senses. A moment later, his towering frame leaned over me, his presence so heavy it felt like he was blanketing my body without even touching me.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded, his voice low against my ear.

Shame washed over me, but eventually, I forced them open.

“Good girl…” he purred. The tip of his fingers brushed the center of my back, tracing an invisible line that sent shivers racing across my skin.

He dragged it lower, slower, until his hands cupped the curve of my ass, giving a delicate squeeze.

I sucked in a ragged breath. His palms spread wide, moving across my ass.

“Tell me… does this still hurt?”

His voice melted into my veins as his touch deepened, caressing the tender skin he had once marked.

Heat coursed through me, flooding every nerve, my body betraying me with every throb of desire. My core ached as wetness coated my heat, intensifying the shame I felt.

I swallowed hard, searching for my voice. It came out strained, a lie whispered through clenched teeth.

“Slightly… hurts.”

His hands stilled. “Pain?” he echoed, fingers spreading across me again, this time firmer, digging into layers of my skin. “Remember… you must be honest.”

The weight of his words broke me. My throat tightened, my chest heaved, and the confession tumbled out before I could stop it.

“It no longer hurts…”

“Then why is that?” His voice was both silk and hard, his fingers trailing between my thighs, inching higher, teasing along my inner thighs.

A pool of heat coursed through me, my body straining toward his touch. I pressed my lips together, shaking my head.

“I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know…” he repeated slowly, mocking, his fingers gliding upward across my back now, making every nerve scream alive.

But I knew. God, I knew. His hands were perfect, wonderfully cruel, awakening raw heat inside of me, sending electrical sparks surging into places I didn’t dare acknowledge.

“For these next questions,” he murmured darkly, “I need you to answer truthfully. Is that clear?”

My throat tightened. “How can I… when…”

“When what?” he groaned against my skin, his fingers stroking along my neck, coaxing the words from me.

My gaze lingered there, his mouth, full and wet from the sip, before sliding lower, catching the strong line of his throat as it bobbed with the swallow.

From there, I couldn’t stop myself from following the trail down to the open V of his shirt, where two buttons were undone, revealing the toned ridges of muscle beneath.

My throat went dry. I drank him in, shamelessly, like I’d been starved for the sight off all of him.

He sank into his seat, the picture of dangerous ease, and asked,

“This morning… when I kissed you. Was that your first kiss?”

The question sent heat spiraling through me. But I hid it, burying it beneath stubborn pride. I didn’t know why I felt the need to lie, maybe because I didn’t want him twisting it into an ego boost, or seeing me as some timid girl who knew nothing. I needed him to see me as strong.

“No,” I lied smoothly, forcing strength into my tone. “I’ve been kissed before.” I paused, then pushed harder, trying to make it convincing. “By multiple guys.”

The shift in him was instant. Dante’s eyes darkened. His hand clenched around the tumbler, and then he dropped it onto the table beside him with a loud clink that made me flinch.

Before I could process, he was on his feet, striding toward me with a furious gaze that set every nerve in my body alight.

My first instinct was to retreat, to slide back into the bed. But I refused to cower. So I sat there, hands tense against the sheet, forcing myself to meet his approach even as my insides twisted with nerves.

He stopped in front of me, fingers reaching out to brush my bottom lip.

“You’re lying again,” he murmured, rolling my lip gently between his fingers, sparking feelings I couldn’t control.

His gaze burned through me. “You’re choosing to test me. Do you want to get spanked again… huh?”