Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

POV: DIMITRI

An hour later, She stood in front of the walk-in closet, wrapped in the white robe he’d pulled from the bathroom, her wet hair dripping down her back. The closet was enormous, his side organized with military precision, her side carefully curated by his hand over the past months. Designer pieces. Luxury fabrics. Everything chosen because it would either look devastating on her or come off easily when he needed it to.

Dimitri sat on the edge of the bed, watching her move through the space.

She pulled out a silk dress first....cream-colored, understated elegance, the kind of piece that screamed money without announcing it. She held it up to her body, tilted her head, then set it aside with a small nod of approval.

”You’re going to overpack,” he said.

Eve glanced back at him, one eyebrow raised. ”We’re going for two weeks.”

”You won’t need clothes.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. ”I’m bringing clothes, Dimitri. As much as you’d enjoy me naked, I’d like to at least be able to walk around the villa without inviting the security detail into our private affairs.”

”Marco doesn’t care what you wear. Or don’t wear.”

She pulled out another dress, this one a deeper navy blue that would match her eyes. ”Marco is a professional. He doesn’t look. You, on the other hand, look constantly.”

”I own what’s mine,” he said simply. ”I like seeing it.”

She was used to his possessiveness by now. Didn’t flinch at it anymore. Instead, she made a small sound of acknowledgment and continued pulling items...sundresses, a pair of tailored linen pants, casual sweaters for evening, designer swimsuits in colors that would look perfect against her sun-warmed skin.

Dimitri watched her pack. Watched the way she moved through the closet like she was orchestrating something. Watched the way the robe gaped slightly when she reached for something on a higher shelf, revealing the edge of her breast, her ribs, the curved indent of her waist.

He had half a mind to pull her back to bed.

But they had a schedule to keep. Marco would be coordinating with the crew. The jet was waiting. Every minute was calculated to ensure they hit the airspace windows he’d arranged.

”Bring the black dress,” he said.

Eve paused. ”Which black dress? I have three.”

”The one I bought you in Milan. The one that ties at the back.”

She found it without asking which one specifically, because of course she knew. It was the dress he’d stripped from her body in the hotel suite after that shopping expedition. The dress he’d torn the tie from and used to bind her wrists while he fucked her against the window overlooking the cathedral.

A flush crept up her neck at the memory.

”Bringing it,” she said.

She moved to her jewelry case next, selecting pieces with the careful precision of someone who understood the difference between luxury and ostentation. A delicate gold bracelet. Diamond studs. The emerald pendant he’d given her....the one that hung perfectly in the hollow of her throat.

”Pack the red dress too,” he added.

”Dimitri, I’m already bringing....”

”Pack it.”

She obeyed without further argument, pulling out the crimson silk that clung to her body like a second skin. The dress that made her look like sin itself.

”Shoes,” he said.

”I’m doing shoes.”

She pulled out sandals....strappy gold heels that would look devastating with the cream dress. Flat sandals for the beach. A pair of designer sneakers that cost more than most people’s weekly salary. The black heels that matched the Milan dress.

Dimitri stood and moved into the closet, coming to stand behind her. He reached around her and selected a pair of heels she hadn’t taken out....red patent leather, the kind of shoe that was designed for nothing but fucking. The kind of shoe a man wore a woman in when he wanted to see her on her back or on her knees.

”And these,” he said, placing them on the pile.

Eve looked at the heels and then back at him, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. ”You’re assuming a lot about what’s going to happen on this vacation.”

”I’m not assuming. I’m planning.” He pulled her back against him, his hands spanning her waist. ”We have two weeks, piccola. I intend to use every single hour.”

She leaned back into him, tilting her head so he could see her face. ”Swimwear?”

”Already taken care of.”

”How?”

”I had things delivered. They’re in the villa.”

She twisted in his arms to look at him properly. ”You prepared the island before you even asked me about the vacation?”

”Of course I did.” He pulled her closer, his mouth finding her temple. ”I’ve been planning this for months. The moment I knew I was going to keep you, I started preparing places to take you. This is just the first one. and i am sorry it is coming late Cara mia”

The first one. Which meant there would be others. Which meant he was thinking in terms of a future with her, in terms of moments stretched out over time instead of just the immediate present.

She turned fully in his arms, and he picked her up, carrying her back out to the bedroom. He set her on the bed and pulled her legs apart, spreading her wide while she was still wearing the robe. The white fabric fell away easily, and he looked at her, really looked....before lowering himself between her thighs.

”Dimitri, we don’t have time.....”

But he was already tasting her, his tongue sliding through her folds with single-minded intensity. She gasped, her hands coming up to grip his hair, and he sucked her clit into his mouth while she trembled beneath him.

”We have time,” he said against her pussy. ”We always have time for this.”

He ate her until she came, her thighs clamped around his head, his name a broken prayer on her lips. Then he pulled back, licked his mouth clean, and stood.

”Finish packing,” he said. ”We leave in thirty minutes.”

She stared up at him, flushed and breathless. ”You’re impossible.”

”I’m thorough.”

Twenty-eight minutes later, Eve wheeled out two large suitcases and a carry-on. Dimitri took the bags and handed them to Marco, who’d appeared at the penthouse door like the ghost of professionalism he was.

”Everything’s loaded,” Marco confirmed. ”Crew is standing by. We’re good to go whenever you are.”