Page 29 of Secret Baby for the Mafia Don

I collapse back on the bed, gasping for air, still feeling sharp little pinging jolts of pleasure racing across my skin.

His question is a loaded one because it might be the most intimate thing I have done with him in bed, but I still feel like I have no idea what he is thinking.

I’m not even sure why he wanted me to make myself come rather than using my body for his own pleasure the way he always has in the past.

He still feels like a locked container, full of dangerous secrets, that is a threat to myself and my child.

I close my eyes and attempt to gather my thoughts. I’m supposed to make him comfortable enough with me that I can bargain with him.

I need to get him to the point where he will acquiesce to my desire to live with Mateo somewhere safe that isn’t a mob prison. Being intimate in the bedroom is not the same as being trusted or having the ability to voice one's own needs and have them met.

“Your turn,” I say to him, my eyes still closed.

I realize that one of my breasts is still uncovered, but I don’t make a move to cover it. I can’t find the strength to do anything but lie still.

“An eye for an eye, is it?” he asks me, but I hear him working his belt loose, and then he rises from the bed.

“I’ve always thought of you like some kind of fallen angel,” I admit to him. “So maybe that’s a fitting kind of justice.”

He chuckles. “Surely you always thought of me as Lucifer,” he counters.

I risk opening my eyes and I’m greeted by the sight of him pulling his boxer briefs off. His shirt is unbuttoned, and its tails perfectly frame his dick. I wonder a little at the size of him. I knew he was large, even as an inexperienced girl, but good lord, he’s big.

No wonder I always came almost right away when he fucked me.

“I had always considered you more of an Azazel,” I reply, watching him climb back onto the bed and kneel beside me.

He chuckles a little and the sound makes my heart pinch in my chest. He used to laugh a lot, despite his touchy temper and his crazy shifts of mood. I didn’t know that I had missed the sound until now.

“Why Azazel?” he asks me as he begins to stroke his long fingers along the length of himself. He’s looking down at his hand as it goes about the familiar task, his sleek, dark hair draping over his forehead.

He nips a hold of his full lower lip with his teeth, and it makes me want to rear up and kiss him, but I resist.

“He taught the mortals about the forbidden knowledge,” I say back. “It seemed fitting.”

He meets my gaze, the amusement still lurking in his expression, but giving way to the languor of unsatisfied desire. “Perhaps you were also thinking of his ability to do magic,” he suggests, nodding down toward his proud, firm dick cradled in his hand.

I snort. “I think Azazel’s ability to manipulate the thoughts and feelings of others is a more accurate connection.”

He is silent for a moment, but I hear his breathing changing as he starts to get closer to orgasm. Finally, he says, “Don’t confuse my work with myself, Kate. They are not always the same thing.”

I turn those enigmatic words over in my mind as he starts to stroke faster along the length of his cock. It jumps in his hands here and there as he gets closer and closer to his release.

The cadence of his strokes is almost hypnotic and I feel myself lulled into the push and pull of his actions. He squeezes a little more firmly for a few last strokes and groans as he comes, his seed spilling onto my naked breast and chest.

I stare down at the puddle of him on my skin. “Hard to believe that something that looks like that can make a person,” I comment idly.

He narrows his gaze on me for a moment, then climbs off the bed and walks into the bathroom. He returns with a wet washcloth. “Did they ask you about a paternity test?” he says by way of reply. He hands the washcloth to me and starts putting on his clothing.

I freeze in the middle of wiping up the mess on my chest. I look at him carefully, not sure what feeling to assign to this moment. “Do you want one?”

He shrugs. “Probably not. However, I haven’t seen the boy yet.”

“Trust,” I hiss, wiping the rest of the semen off my body in annoyance and then yanking my shirt up to cover myself again. “I see that the concept still eludes you.”

He holds up a hand to me. “I didn’t say anything about demanding a test for my own peace of mind. I just wondered if the Baldinis wanted you to submit to having Mateo and myself tested. They don’t seem to even trust one another, let alone outsiders.”

I want to scream with frustration. Nothing about Elio has changed. He still doesn’t want to treat me like an equal, and he clearly has no intentions of trusting me.

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