I Saved the Mafia Boss—Now I'm His Obsession. novel Chapter 43

Madeleine

𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡

I don’t know what came over me.

I don’t even know why I kissed him, maybe it was the way he looked at me, maybe it was because I hadn’t seen my family in so long and my heart was just... full, spilling over with everything I didn’t know how to say.

But the moment my lips touched his—even just for that single, soft second I felt something shift.

In him.

His eyes darkened, quite literally. I don’t know if anyone would believe me if I told them, but I swear, his eyes went from steel grey to something blacker than night.

And then everything moved fast.

One moment, I was still warm with the sound of my father’s voice echoing in my chest, and the next, the next second, I was flat on my back, breath caught in my throat, the soft give of the mattress below me and him above me.

My hands flew out, grabbing fistfuls of the silk sheets on either side of me. I didn’t know where else to put them. I didn’t know what to do with myself. My body wasn’t listening to me anymore.

Adriano covered me completely. His chest pressed to mine. His hips wedged forcefully between my thighs, and I couldn't help but part my leg involuntarily. I could feel every inch of him, and it was too much and not enough all at once.

My heart was pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears. My face was burning. I couldn’t breathe right, and my body felt... hot. It was aching with something I didn’t have a name for yet, like I was melting from the inside out.

I’d never felt like this before. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do or say or think.

All I knew was that Adriano Capone was on top of me and I’d never, ever felt more alive.

There was nothing hesitant in the way he kissed me. His tongue slid into my mouth slow at first, then deep, then hungrier. He kissed like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he’d done it a hundred times before, and maybe he had but I... hadn’t, not like this anyway.

I didn’t know how to move my mouth like that, didn’t know what to do with my tongue, didn’t know where to breathe, every time I tried, he took it from me again.

His lips dragged against mine, and then he used his teeth on my bottom lip. A soft bite, then a rougher one. It made me whimper into his mouth, and that just made him groan.

I didn’t know kissing could feel like this.

I was drowning, and he seemed like he liked it. His hand tugged my head back again just enough to kiss me deeper, sloppier, messier. I felt completely out of control, and I think... I think he loved that.

He was too good at this. He knew the pressure, the rhythm, the way to trap a girl under his mouth until she forgot her own name. And I did. I forgot everything but him.

Then his hands moved down, slid to my wrists, wrapped around them. He pinned them beside my head.

His thigh slid between mine, and I felt it. The thick, rigid length of him straining against his slacks, hot even through the fabric. He rocked against me once, just enough to make my back arch, my breath coming in ragged little gasps against his mouth.

My cheeks burned. My legs went stiff, then weak. My hands tried to grip the sheets, the air, anything but he had them now.

He finally pulled back. I gasped like I’d just come up for air. My lips throbbed and felt swollen. His eyes burned into me like he could see every part of what I was feeling.

“I’ve been dying to do that,” he said, “Since the second I fucking saw you.”

“Adriano,” I breathed.

“Say it again,” he whispered, brushing his nose against mine, “Tell me I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”

He was.

He really, really was.

I didn’t know what that meant yet. I didn’t know if it made me stupid, or crazy, or both but in that moment, it was the truest thing I’d ever said.

I nodded and whispered it again, “You are.”

He didn’t say another word, he just stared at me like I’d offered him something sacred and he didn’t know how to take it.

And then slowly he let go of my wrists. My arms stayed frozen in place, I was scared to move and accidentally ruin the moment.

He brought his hand to my face, dragged his knuckles along my jaw so gently it nearly made me cry again. He touched me like he was scared of hurting me, but still wanted to and it made my chest ache.

His thumb slid down my cheek, then traced my lower lip, still swollen from how hard he'd kissed me. I shivered beneath him because of the cold, or because of him, I didn’t know anymore. My gown had ridden up slightly, baring more of my legs, and I could feel how close he still was, how hard, how out of control.

I swallowed, heart pounding, and he caught that too. His eyes flicked to my throat and darkened further.

"I have never," I whispered, so quietly I didn’t know if I wanted him to hear it, "Been kissed like this."

Adriano stilled. For a second, I thought he didn’t breathe then his head tilted slightly, and a wicked sort of smile played on his lips, it was dark and masculine and... proud.

"I know," he said.

His fingers left my face only to trail down my arm. He stopped at my wrist and lifted it gently, holding my hand up between us like it was fragile. Then he pressed his lips to the center of my palm.

I swear my whole body lit up.

"You don’t even know what you’re doing to me, sunshine," he murmured against my skin, his breath dragging over my wrist. "And I’m two seconds away from showing you."

My hips shifted slightly under his without meaning to, and the second I did it, his eyes snapped back to mine, hungry and eager.

"Yeah," he muttered, "Just like that. That’s what I want."

He kissed up my forearm, like he wanted to worship me.

Then he kissed me again this time slower, tongue and teeth and something that felt like it would never be enough. I tried to match him, but I still didn’t know what I was doing. By the time he pulled back, I was dizzy and dazed. I felt kissed down to my bones.

I looked up at him through my lashes, throat dry. How could a kiss make you lose your mind?

And then I remembered Carlos. His voice, that flat tone when he said I was stiff, boring, bad at sex. That he had to “work with what he got.” That I wasn't enough.

I blinked up at Adriano, and even though he was still close, still looking at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered, I felt it. That old burn of shame at the back of my throat.

But I wanted to be brave.

I forced the words out, “I’m... I don’t... I think I’m very bad at all this.”

“What did you just say?” he asked.

I swallowed hard, “I mean... I don’t really know what I’m doing and I think I’m just... not good. At this. At being with someone.”

He brushed my hair back with one hand, the other cradling my jaw like I might break.

“You listen to me, sunshine,” he murmured, eyes locked on mine, unblinking. “There’s not a single thing about you I’d change. Not one. And if anyone ever made you feel like you weren’t enough...”

My lips parted, because it felt like a threat. His thumb traced over them again, slower this time, with a kind of reverence that made my eyes sting.

“You’re not bad at this,” he said, “You’re just untouched, unclaimed. And you’re mine now. I’ll teach you everything. Every fucking thing.”

I stared at him, heart going wild in my chest. His words... they sounded so final like there was no going back after this.

“Yours?” I whispered, like I needed to hear it again.

Adriano nodded once, slowly. “Mine.”

The word landed somewhere low in my stomach and set everything fluttering.

“But I don’t…” I swallowed hard. “What if I mess it up?”

His eyes flicked back to mine, and he leaned in closer, brushing his lips, not quite kissing, just skimming them over my cheek, my jaw, just beneath my ear.

“You won’t,” he said. “And if you do, I’ll like it.”

I shivered.

“You don’t have to know anything, Madeleine,” he murmured against my skin, “You just have to let me have you. Let me show you.”

A soft, shaky breath left me.

“I’ve never...” I stopped myself. He already knew.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, hand still curled around the side of my neck, thumb brushing my jaw.

“I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m going slow.”

He wasn’t, not really but something about the way he said it made me feel safe in the madness. Like even if he was a hurricane, I was the one place he’d never destroy.

“I want...” I bit my lip, unsure how to finish it. “I want you to like being with me.”

That earned the faintest hint of a smile, the dangerous kind that never quite touched his eyes.

“Sweetheart,” he said, “I already do... fucking too much.”

He finally pulled away, his body lifting off mine like he hated the distance even more than I did. I exhaled shakily as cool air rushed between us. My chest rose and fell too fast. I had to ground myself in the softness of the mattress just to breathe.

He sat at the edge of the bed, legs spread wide, bracing his elbows on his knees, and dragged a hand through his dark hair.

I sat up slowly, dizzy, and touched my fingers to my lips like I couldn’t believe what just happened. They were swollen. Tingly. My whole body was still catching up. I smoothed my dress out as best I could, cheeks burning, heartbeat drumming in places I didn’t even know it could reach.

God, was I glowing?

I glanced at him and he was watching me again, my stomach flipped.

“You okay?” he asked, a shadow of a smile tugging at his mouth.

I nodded, too fast.

His eyes tracked the movement, then dipped lower, down my body, over the curve of my thighs where the gown had ridden up again, then back up to my flushed face.

“Why don’t you change out of that dress,” dragging his eyes over me, slowly, hungrily, like he wanted to mess me up all over again, “and stay here tonight? The closet’s yours,” he added. “Take whatever you want.

I didn’t know if I was blushing from his tone, the idea of touching his things, or just... being here. In his space. In his world.

“I’ve got something to take care of,” he said, pushing to his feet with that slow, loose power he always had, “But I’ll be back.”

I swallowed, feeling all fluttery and giddy and... felt kind of beautiful? Like somehow, under that stare, I was worth being wanted that much.

He didn’t wait for me to speak. Just walked toward the door but before he left, he paused, turned slightly, and looked back at me from over his shoulder. That stare could’ve burned the air.

“You’ll be here when I return.”

It was not a question, it was a statement. And I was already nodding.

The second the door clicked shut behind him, I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

I touched my lips again, still tingling from the way he kissed me.

And he said I could wear anything in his closet.

Then those eyes opened.

His eyes were a shade lighter in the sunshine, cold at first, wild for a split second like he forgot where he was but then they found me.

And just like that, the homicidal sparkle faded.

“Sunshine...” Oh my God. His morning voice, “What are you doing down there?”

I hugged my knees tighter, trying to hide the shy smile that wanted to spill across my face, “I didn’t want to wake you.”

He blinked at me and my stomach flipped.

“Why didn’t you let me sleep in the guest room last night?” I whispered, tugging at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt, my bare leg brushing against the couch. “You gave me your bed… and that couch isn’t even long enough for you.”

His mouth curved in a soft smile, “I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Still,” my voice got smaller, “You didn’t have to.”

He turned fully now, one arm draped over the back of the couch as he looked down at me. The lazy sprawl of his body was pure power and relaxed.

“I wanted to,” he said, “You looked too pretty in my bed.”

I blinked and blushed so hard my whole face burned.

Adriano smiled as he sat up, he stretched, muscles shifting beneath the half-open shirt, abs flexing, arm sliding behind his head again. And all I could do was stare like a dumb little deer caught in headlights. He parted his legs wide.

“Come here,” he said, “Let me look at you properly in the morning light.”

And even though I probably should’ve run back to the bed, I stood up and stepped closer.

My hands fidgeted at the hem of his t-shirt hanging off my frame. It felt so much bigger on me now.

He looked up at me like he had all the time in the world. His gaze dragged from my legs to my face, then he patted his thigh once, “Sit.”

I don’t know what it was, his voice, that tone, but my body just moved on its own.

I stepped between his spread knees and eased myself down, legs together, heart racing as I settled onto his thigh. His big hand went straight to my hip, steadying me. His thumb brushed the curve of my waist through the thin cotton as he looked at my face.

“You’re tiny,” he murmured, almost distracted, eyes drinking me in.

“I have always been short,” I said, too fast, my voice a breathy mess, “You’re just... really tall. And broad. And big.”

“I am,” he said, letting his eyes fall to my mouth again. “Everywhere.”

I felt my breath stutter in my chest, eyes widening before I could stop them, and he laughed.

He reached over, still with one arm around me, and picked his phone up off the couch cushion. With a few swipes, the teasing in his eyes softened into something else entirely.

He held the screen up for me. It was a photo of my family.

My dad was smiling awkwardly at the camera, my mom squinting into the sun with her arm around him. My little brother with his messy curls holding our dog like always, and my aunt and uncle sitting on the porch with my cousins, one of them making a face.

I stopped breathing for a completely different reason now.

“I asked your dad for a picture and he sent it last night,” Adriano said quietly, watching me now instead of the screen.

My throat tightened instantly. I hadn’t even realized how much I needed that until it was right in front of me.

“They look happy,” I said, smiling through the sudden sting in my eyes. “They look... okay.”

“They are,” he said, “They’re good. Safe.”

I didn’t even ask how he knew that. Or how he got in touch with them. Or what kind of man could make something like that happen without even mentioning it to me.

I just stared at the photo, holding the phone carefully in both hands and then I looked back at him.

And I didn’t know what I was feeling but it was something huge. The kind of thing that changes people without asking first.

“Thank you,” I breathed. “That’s... that’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

His hand, still warm on my hip, squeezed just enough to make me feel it. I blinked fast, trying not to cry again, but my throat felt like it was closing and my heart wouldn’t stop climbing higher up my ribs.

I looked away, cheeks burning.

“I feel like...” I whispered, barely able to get it out.

He leaned in, tilting his head, “Like what?”

I swallowed and stared at his chest. Anywhere but those eyes.

“Like I’m never gonna be normal again after you.”

And the second I said it, I knew it was real.

No one had ever cared that much. No one had even tried. And deep down, I knew no one else ever would.

“Madeleine,” he said, and when I looked up, his eyes were already on me, “There isn’t going to be an 'after me' for you,” he said and a chill slid down my spine, but I wasn’t afraid.

Because I didn’t want to imagine a world where he wasn’t in it, not anymore.