Before the Storm: A Dark Mafia Romance (Frost Industries Book 4)

Before the Storm: Chapter 41



Storm stares down at me with rapture in his gray eyes. It doesn’t seem likely, or even plausible, that the words coming out of his mouth are true, but how else can I explain the way he’s looking at me right now. Like I’m his world, and me not believing that is physically hurting him.

“But why?” I whisper. The question seems stupid and irrelevant, but I can’t help but ask it. I’ve asked before, but I still don’t understand how it’s possible for someone like Storm to want someone like me. Confident, brutal, and built like a god. And then there’s me, pudgy, nervous and too innocent for my own good. We’re complete opposites in every way and I don’t understand what he could possibly see in me.

He chuckles darkly and drops his head so our faces are just a breath apart. I can’t think when he’s this close, and even the functions my body does automatically seem to struggle. “Because you’re it for me, Ayvah. My father used to tell me about when he met my mom, and how the moment he locked eyes with her, he knew. It was like a switch flicked and there was no arguing, no fighting it, it was happening. I always thought it was bullshit until Rayne met Emerson and I watched my cold, uncaring brother fall to his knees for a woman he just met. But I still thought it skipped me, because how could a man as cruel as I am ever deserve to feel something like that?” He shakes his head and his breath whispers across my cheek. “And then I met you. The moment my eyes locked on you, I knew you were mine. I knew everything my father and brother told me was true, and even though I have no idea how to navigate this, or how to treat you how you deserve to be treated, I know I’m never going to be able to let you go.”

My breath catches in my throat at his admission. Is he serious? Surely he’s not because every word out of his mouth seems insane. But then again, everything that’s happened to me since I stepped out of the door of my apartment to go clubbing with my sister has been insane, so the bar is pretty fucking low at this point.

“It doesn’t matter that you’re younger than I am, or that you don’t understand this life. All that matters is that I know with every fiber of my being that you were made just for me. And it’s okay if you’re not sure of that yet, because I’m sure enough for the both of us.”

I close my eyes to break the intensity of his gaze. I don’t understand any of this, but I’d be remiss not to believe the words he’s saying when he looks at me like I’m his entire world. “What happens when this ends?” I ask quietly.

“It won’t,” he tells me with a confidence I don’t feel.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do, Ayvah.”

“Just because things worked out for your parents and your brother doesn’t mean things are going to work out for us. There’s no such thing as love at first sight. I may be young, but I’m not an idiot.”

Storm exhales a frustrated breath, his grip on my chin tightening just shy of the point of pain. “Have you listened to a word I’ve said, baby girl?”

“Yes, and it all sounds fucking insane,” I snap.

His eyes turn a darker shade of gray, and I know I’ve gone too far. I’m an idiot to argue with him in the first place. He’s a killer. He profits from other people’s addictions, from people killing each other. His hands are covered in more blood than anyone else’s in the city, so why would I think pushing him is a good idea?

Because you’re a naive idiot.

The voice in the back of my mind is like a kick to the gut and I can barely drag in a breath. It’s not that it’s not true, because right now I am, but it’s the voice itself. It belongs to my sister, and I’m nowhere near over what she did to me.

“Ayvah, hey,” Storm pulls me into his body and strokes my back softly. “I didn’t mean to scare you, baby girl.”

“I don’t think I can do this life, Storm,” I whisper.

“Yes, you can, baby girl, because this is where you’re meant to be. By my side.”

We stand there for so long I expect the water to go cold, but it never does. Back home, I was lucky to have three solid minutes of warmth before the shitty hot water system would start to die, but of course the Saint James family have unlimited hot water to go along with their unlimited money.

Storm shifts slightly and his hard cock presses into my stomach. I thought it took men a little while to warm up again. How long have we been in here? The ache between my legs only seems to grow more intense the more time that passes, and I don’t think I’ll be able to take him again so soon.

I look down at where he’s pressing into my belly and moan at the sight. His cock is perfect. Not that I have much to go off, apart from some assholes at school who used to streak during sports games, and the one time I watched porn. But Jesus, it’s long and thick. The rigid veins strain against the silky skin and I reach out to touch him. I don’t want to talk anymore, because no matter what he says, I’m going to be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

His breath catches in his throat when my small hand wraps around his length, and then he lets out a long, deep growl. “Didn’t you get enough of my cock, baby girl? Do you need more?” His voice is thick with desire, and the sound alone pulls a soft moan from my throat. How can he make me feel so good without ever touching me?

“I don’t think I can…” I trail off. I don’t know how to be sexy. I’ve never had to be before, and if I’m honest, the only time I’ve ever felt sexy is when Storm looks at me.

“Is your pussy sore, Ayvah?” he rumbles, but his eyes are locked on where my hand strokes him tentatively. This seemed like such a good idea in theory, but in practice… I’m not so sure.

“A bit,” I whisper. “But I want to make you feel good.”

Storm groans before pushing my back against the cool tiles, sending a shiver down my spine. “What do you want to do, baby girl?” he growls. “I’m all yours.”

I drag my eyes from where I’m stroking him and meet his heated gaze. “I don’t know how,” I admit.

He wraps his huge hand around mine and guides my strokes a little faster. “You don’t need to be so gentle,” he tells me.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve heard they’re sensitive.”

He lets out a low chuckle and drops his chin to his chest. “They are. But mine is addicted to you so I think anything you do to me, he’s going to enjoy.”

“I want to… taste you.” I cringe at my choice of words. God, could I sound any more innocent and naive?

“Fuck,” he groans as his hips jerk forward. “You have no idea how badly I want your hot little mouth wrapped around me, baby girl.”

“Can I?” I ask, looking up at him through long dark lashes.

He nods and I tentatively drop to my knees on the hard tiles. At least they’re warm from where the water has been spraying them, and Storm moves his body to shield me from the stream of water. The way he looks down at me can only be described as love, and that fucking terrifies me. Because a man like Storm loving me can only mean one thing. This is my life now. The violence. The security. The uncertainty. It’s my entire future, and I’m not sure how to accept that as the rest of my life.


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