Page 65 of Protected By the Mafia

“Mikey says he got some interesting messages. That you?”

“Thought you’d like to see for yourself,” Cristiano said.

“And Felicity?”

“I’m here,” Felicity said, her voice still weaker than it should be. But she was trying at least to talk through her tears. He couldn’t begrudge her the tumultuous emotions.

“Good.” Dante paused. “I assume Barros was absent when you hit the location?”

“Probably for a while,” Cristiano replied. “I shared the video with him and his buddy. They’ll get the message.”

“Never pegged you for the poetic type.”

“I was motivated.”

Dante hummed. “Take Felicity home. We can handle the rest. Do you need a doctor?”

“I’ll call you back on that,” Cristiano said before Felicity could respond. “Maybe.”

Dante disconnected the call with a sound of acknowledgment.

“There,” Cristiano said, turning to offer her a quick smile and resettling his hand on her thigh, “now I’m all yours.”

She was dreaming about sitting on Cristiano’s cock, squirming in his lap and trying desperately to take him deeper, to get him to move more. It had become her sole focus, yet for some reason remaining frustratingly out of grasp, when burning pleasure burst through her. Felicity woke with a gasping cry, her back arching, the sensation of fingers at her clit and a delightfully hard, thick cock rocking inside her body.

“Sorry, baby,” Cristiano murmured behind her, his lips grazing along the side of her neck. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

Felicity rolled her hips against his, still catching her breath, and reached down to drag his hand from her clit up to her chest. She held him there as he curled his fingers into her boob, kneading with the perfect bite of roughness. “It’s so hot when you wake me up like this,” she panted. “You’ve barely touched me all weekend … I missed you.”

His hand slid up, between her breasts, and curled around her throat as his lips moved to her ear. “You were hurt,” he said. His husky timbre raised wonderful goosebumps on her skin. “I wanted to let you heal. But I’ve missed you, too, Foxglove.”

She smiled. “Don’t stop now.” The room was dark, but not so dark that she couldn’t see the outline of the curtain on the far wall. “Open the curtain, babe. Fuck me against the glass. Fuck me to the backdrop of the city lights.”

His hand tightened and he ground himself deeper inside her, both of them groaning. “Yeah,” he said after a long second. “I like the sound of that.” He lifted her into his arms, rolled from the bed, and she got a fleeting glance of the middle-of-the-night downtown lights from their position so far above it all before he spun her around and pressed her back to the glass.

The glass was cool against her overheated skin and Felicity curled her legs around his hips, her arms around his neck, another moan escaping her.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he murmured against her lips. Then he plunged his tongue into her mouth and sheathed his cock in her pussy, swallowing her outcry as his hands glided up and down her sides. It was as if he didn’t know where to touch first, where to squeeze or linger, because he wanted to touch her everywhere.

She loved it. She loved all of it.

The kiss broke as he picked up a hard pace, thrusting into her relentlessly. She was already teetering on the edge again. “Cris, yes, Cris, more!”

He moved one hand back to her throat and squeezed again, applying just enough pressure to restrict her airway.

Felicity dragged her unfocused gaze back to his, raking her nails down his scalp. And she saw in his eyes a sentiment that matched her own desires. Her mouth popped open on a breathless scream as he dragged against that spot inside her, teasing.

“Not yet, baby,” he said. His fingers flexed, releasing for a second before tightening again. “You look like a goddamn angel with all those glowing lights behind you.” He rubbed his thumb along her jugular before finally pulling his hand away. “Show me how angels fly.” He grabbed her legs and lifted both over his shoulders, sinking himself deeper. “Now, baby, come on my dick and take me flying.”

She might have laughed at his silly analogy if she weren’t so overwhelmed with pleasure. But he was doing everything right and she couldn’t do anything other than let go, a beautiful, all-consuming heat coursing through her. She heard herself scream for him as her inner walls clamped down around him, and she heard his deep, guttural groan as he followed her into ecstasy. His hands slid over her thighs to settle in the curve of her hips and his forehead dropped to her shoulder, his body shuddering briefly with the force of his release.

Felicity let her head tip to the side, her eyes drawn by the light of the city below. It really was kind of magical, in a fun way. She certainly felt like she was having a magical moment, at least.

Cristiano straightened slowly, easing her down while raining tender kisses up her neck to her lips.

She cupped his face as it hovered over hers. “Cristiano,” she whispered, “you don’t have to keep worrying about me. I’m fine.” She smiled for him. “I’m happy.”

He tugged her against him, hands over her back. “I intend to keep you that way.”

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