Page 41 of Satin Empire

“You want me to say it again?” I ask, grinning wildly. I’ve never been so freaking aroused before this soon after coming, and I’ve also never had so much fun during sex. It’s one thing to lose my mind, but it’s another to smile while I’m doing it, and this man’s total and utter mindless need for me is just freaking intoxicating.

“Only once I’ve earned it,” he says and pins me down on the bed. His strong arms wrench my legs open. “Only after I’ve fucked you into oblivion.”

“Oh my god,” I whisper, and my heart’s racing wildly as he teases my slit with his thick tip, rubbing it up and down, grazing my clit and sending bolts of pleasure into my core. I wriggle my hips, practically mewling for him to fuck me into a spineless sludge, except he curses and reaches over to the nightstand.

“Condom,” I say, feeling stupid. I was totally going to let him fuck me bare, and that would be a terrible idea. It’s bad enough that we’re married—I don’t need a baby making everything ten times more complicated. But once he’s covered and back between my legs, he peppers me with kisses, lingering on my neck, my mouth, and my breasts, before rocking my hips up and sliding his cock deep into my pussy.

Bliss and pain explode into me. “That’s it, baby, every inch,” he murmurs as I take him, half-laughing at how freaking enormous he is, and half-moaning with how freaking good it feels to get filled up. I’m so stretched and when he strokes back and forth again, it’s like he hooked me up to a car battery and revved the engine. Electricity, pleasure, pain, everything jolts inside of me, and I’m going totally jelly and boneless as he grinds his hips against me.

“I’m not going to last long,” I say, and I have no clue if he understands me because I’m pretty sure I’m not speaking real language, just a series of grunts and moans and gasps.

He keeps going, kissing me, whispering in my ear, telling me how beautiful I am, how good it feels to fuck my tight pussy, how much he wants to destroy me over and over again, and yes, please, god, yes, ruin me, ruin me, wreck me, bring me back, and do it again until I’m just a puddle on his sheets.

“Come for me, baby,” he whispers. “You’ve been such a perfect fucking girl for me. Come on my dick and tell me how much you love it.”

“Oh, fuck yes,” I groan and obey his command. I come, back arching, grinding into him, my mouth moving but nothing escapes my lips, as the orgasm tenses every muscle in my body. I explode on him and when I’m done, I kiss him so hard I think I bruise his lips. Not that I really care.

“I really, really loved that,” I say and bite his neck. “You are such a goddamn good boy.”

“Say that again,” he says, pinning my wrists above my head, eyes blazing.

“Good. Boy.”

He rips into me now, heedless and mindless, and when he stiffens, I feel his cock twitching inside of me. He comes with a howl and buries my mouth with his, and when we’re both finally done, he collapses onto the bed and wraps my body with his arms, pulling me tight against him.

Carlo is so damn warm. His heart is hammering against my back. I feel floaty, lightheaded in a good way, like my spine’s somewhere on the ceiling and my brain is down on the floor. He kisses my back and neck and whispers how much he liked fucking me, and I let myself pretend like we aren’t a couple of strangers grasping desperately for something to keep us afloat, scrambling for something, anything to give our bizarre marriage meaning.

“You mentioned something to me earlier,” I say, looking up at the ceiling. His arm is across my chest and he’s idly kissing my shoulder.

“Yeah? I said a lot of things. I’m pretty sure I mentioned how much you like my dick in your mouth?”

I flush at the memory. I’ll absolutely be thinking about that the next time I’m touching myself, because the man was absolutely right—I loved sucking his cock. Only I’ll have to finish the job next time.

“No, earlier, when we were talking out back. You mentioned wanting to expand your business.”

“Yeah, that.” He doesn’t sound happy to talk about it. “It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“No, I just meant, why can’t you do it?”

He doesn’t respond and I’m afraid that I pissed him off. The mafia life is still strange to me, even though my mom’s been married to Orsino for a while now. It’s just that I didn’t grow up in it, so the way they venerate family and obsess about what their Don says and all that, it never really stuck.

I grew up with a hardworking Gran who would’ve done anything for me. Hell, she did everything she could and practically worked herself to death. Then I watched Mom grow up really quick, or at least try to. Those two drilled the concept of independence into me from an early age, taught me over and over that I didn’t need a man to run my life, that I could do what I wanted if I worked for it.

Which is part of why it kills me so much, seeing Mom now, the way she bends her entire life around Orsino and the lifestyle he provides her. The mom I knew would’ve rather strip her way to diamonds than marry a bastard for them.

“Renzo thinks it’s a bad idea.” He glances at me and must be able to tell I have some comment about that, because he keeps going. “And Renzo’s the Don, which means I’m duty-bound and obligated to obey.”

“From what I understand, Renzo only told you that you can’t take over those other businesses, right? Saul was the one that said expanding wasn’t a great idea.”

He hesitates and I can tell he’s thinking about that. I’m not sure what I’m doing here or why I even care, but there’s a part of me that understands what he’s feeling. The people around him aren’t giving him the opportunities he thinks he deserves, just like Orsino made sure I was never given any freedom to find out who I am and what I want to be. My stepfather kept me under lock and key in that big house of his, and Carlo isn’t all that different.

“Saul is the underboss. His word is almost as good as Renzo’s.”

“But his word isn’t ironclad, right? There’s nothing stopping you from opening up a new club, right? I’m guessing you have the money.”

“I have the money,” he agrees and he pulls away. I want his arm back on me, but I can tell this is an important moment, and I don’t want to let him down by being a coward and holding my tongue. That won’t serve anyone.

“Then why not use it? Open a club on your own dime. Sink or swim without your brothers involved. If it works out, great, they’ll be happy. If it doesn’t, they’re out absolutely nothing. It’s a win-win situation, or at least nobody loses.”

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