Taming My Mafia Stepbrother

Luca’s pov:

“Merda,” I growled before capturing Cara’s lips with mine. The moment we connected, it was instant detonation. Something inside of me exploded at the softness of her. What had only been prompted by the desire to silence her, to punish her for her rebellion, morphed into something devoid of corrective intent, stripped and untethered until I was bare and raw with lust. My already strained groin throbbed with yearning, for release, for her.

She infuriated me, maddened me with anger and some other thing so poignant, so new, so excitingly frightening.

I ravaged her mouth, ravished it, the kiss both an assault and a worship. I wanted more, craved deeper, wanted to brand her with me. To make her submit to me thoroughly, so completely consumed by me she would be incapable of seeing or hearing anyone else, until the thought of challenging me became extinct from her mind.

She moaned into my mouth and I nearly lost all restraints. The urge to lose the last thin layer of control was fighting a savage battle with my masculine desire to tear off her clothes and f uc k her senseless in this hallway.

I pinned her hands above her head and trailed my lips down her mouth to the tender flesh of her neck. She smelled divine; soft, sweet and feminine. My free hand slipped under her skirt and up her inner thigh, eliciting a sigh of pleasure from her.

“You want this don’t you,” I rasped in her ear, delighting at her shiver and the soft moan she let out at my fingers brushing over her s e x.

My lips found hers again and this time there was no rush, no desperate urgency. I leisurely toured her mouth with my tongue, claiming and desecrating it with a need to mark myself, to completely own her luscious mouth and ruin it for other men.

I can’t help but think of another thing I’d like to put in her mouth. The thought made me growl.

I pulled back to gaze at her face and the sight of it sent a zap of heat straight to the said thing.

Dio mio. Her plump, succulent lips thoroughly reddened from my kiss earlier, were parted in pleasure. Her pretty blue eyes were darkened with unfiltered desire, her pretty cheeks, framed by her golden tresses spotted a stain of flush so desiring, so maddening, it was almost torture to look at her.

She was perfect.

“You test me, gattina.” I said before returning my lips to her neck and I nibbled, bit and sucked.

“You’re not so easy yourself,” she gasped out arching her neck to the pleasure I was giving it.

“Mi fai impazzire.”

“What does that mean?” She asked in a breathy voice.

“It means you drive me crazy,” I translated, my hand now roving up and down her delectable thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

She gave me another sweet, musical moan.

I had never been more livid when Sergio, the head of the men I had ordered to keep an eye on her, called to inform me of where she was headed.

I had never been more livid, but I had also been gripped with something else, a feeling I refuse to process or acknowledge. The Mexican cartel were infamous for their violence against women and her st u pid tutoring job had brought her dangerously close to the heart of their territory. To their den.

Looking back on it, it had bothered me how much I cared. It was my duty to, she was now family and consequently my responsibility but I wasn’t prepared to care just as much as I would have if it were to be my little sister, Gina.

I vividly and viscerally remember the cold splinters that had cut their way down my spine the moment I picked Sergio’s call. My st u pid, st u pid stepsister.

“I want you to promise me you’ll never go back there.” I drawled, inhaling deeply, the beautiful scent of her.

“I don’t have to promise you anyth” she started to say in defiance but gasped at the sudden pressure of my thumb on her panty-clad clit.

“Promise me,” I commanded, not freeing her from the tortures my thumb were inciting.

She groaned in frustration, her eyes shut with the determination to stay defiant but it was only a matter of time before she’d give in. I just knew it.

I rubbed her clit and she jerked, biting out my name through clenched teeth. In warning or in plea, it was unclear.

“Promise me,” I repeated the command.

“F u ck! Fu c k you!” Her eyes shut tighter. “I promise!”

I gave her one last squeeze before releasing her. Even though it took an herculean effort. I was awfully aware of her nipples straining against her cheap shirt, of the wetness of her panties, the intensity of her arousal, of mine. Of my c0ck bulging painfully in my pants. My mind and my body disagreeing riotously.

But I released her, repetitively reminding myself of what she was. My stepsister, a mere woman. I will not subject myself to a second mistake. With the first, I had a valid excuse; alcohol. I wasn’t going to give into my useless desires like some damned weakling. I wouldn’t be f u c king don of all of Costra Nostra if I was one.

I watched her try to regain her composure. Her knees nearly gave out and she held the peeling wall for support. She stared at her feet, hiding the embarrassed blush I knew she had.

Strangely, I found her embarrassment hot for some fucked up reason. I was beginning to realise that every thought of mine was more fucked up than it usually was when she was involved. I suddenly felt the desperate need to switch the mood. So I thought of something, anything that didn’t involve her up against the wall and wrapped around me.

“I trust your mother has informed you of the upcoming function.”

She blinked at me, her embarrassment fading into confusion and it took her a second to fully digest what I had said.

Then the confusion morphed into annoyance. “You’ve got to be f u c king kidding me.” A mirthless laugh. “Are you really talking about that now? After, after…” she trailed off, her cheeks heating up again.

Smirking, I said, “Yes I am.”

“You are unbelievable.” She fumed.

I watched her turn around and fumble through her purse for her keys but just when she was about to go into her apartment, I grabbed her waist and whipped her around to face me, her body pressed closely to mine.

She resisted but I only pressed her closer, my other hand fisting her hair. “You will answer me mia cara.” My tone was dangerously low.

But the stubborn hellcat refused to heed the warning in my voice, her annoyingly talkative mouth staying mute.

I wrapped my hand tighter in her hair and pressed my knee behind her legs.

She sucked in a gulp of air before gritting out, “yes.”

“Yes what?” I said, my hold on her unyielding.

“Yes. She told me.”

“And I trust you’ll attend.”

A scoff, “its not like I have a choice.”

My knee jerked and she groaned, “answer me properly micetta.”

She glowered up at me. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” I released her but didn’t step back, I was enjoying watching her squirm out from my presence a little too much.

“Am I allowed to leave now?” Her voice was gripping with sarcasm and malice but I didn’t mind it. I loved to see her pissed, it was amusing.

“Of course,” I returned, gesturing with mocking courtesy and I stepped out from her personal space.

She gave me the stink eye as she fumbled into her apartment. Her eyes not leaving me.

I was thoroughly entertained by her childish antics.

“See you soon sorella.” I said just before she shut the door in my face.