Page 56 of Surprise Baby for the Mafia Boss

We speak about names for the baby, especially if it’s a boy. I ask if we could name him after my father, who I barely got to know. She agrees, and suggests that if it’s a girl, we name her after Nonna. Now it's my turn to wipe a tear from my own eye.

I pour myself wine and give her a sparkling water, and we cheers to focusing on the future. Then I explain what’s been going on in the business, letting Emelia in on everything she’s missed. I talk about my plans for the future, to reach out into more countries, and she seems to think it’s a brilliant idea.

I ask about what she hopes to do, and we agree that right now, raising our baby—and maybe having a few more, I throw in for good measure—is where her energy should be directed.

The conversation moves in a more personal direction. I tell her stories of my high school days and we laugh at my stupidity. She tells me about how she had always dreamed of having a bigger family like we did. She also shares how hard she found it that her father could never be proud of her for anything she achieved.

“I’m proud of you, Em,” I say. “And I mean that. You are a stunning woman, but you are also smart and determined, and you care so much about other people. You should be proud of yourself.”

That has her in tears, and I scooch over to hold her—having her wrapped in my arms, her head on my chest feels so natural.

She tells me more about the pregnancy, her hormone changes, and how she’s had weird cravings lately. I make her promise to call me for every single craving in the future.

I intend to help her with this baby, from now until it is born and as we watch it become a full human adult who will hopefully still visit us for Christmas.

She agrees, and tells me that she could do with some cheese right now. Luckily I have plenty in my fridge, so I cut a few pieces of different kinds for her and watch her devour it happily.

We move onto the topic of marriage next. Emelia tells me she wants to be married in the future, but it has to be right, and not just because she is pregnant. I agree with her, and allow her to keep talking about her dream wedding, which is so much simpler than I would have thought.

I see her yawn and I do the same, my eyes watering from the lack of sleep. Looking at the clock, I realize we’ve been talking for over six hours, it’s no wonder we’re tired.

“Tired?” I ask, taking her hand again. She nods and yawns even deeper. The cheese is finished, and she gulps down the last of the sparkling water. I do the same with my wine.

“Do you have a blanket for me? I'm ready to crash on the couch now.” She smiles a little, and I can feel the warmth we’ve created tonight. There’s no way I’m letting that slip away now.

I stand up and reach for her hand, she gives it to me, and I pull her to her feet, kissing her forehead once she’s standing in front of me. I keep her hand in mine and walk towards the bedroom. She follows me willingly.

I pull the covers back on one side. “Get in here,” I tell her, and walk around to the other side. I slip off my jeans and take off my shirt, getting into bed in just my boxers. Emelia takes off her hoodie, but keeps the rest of her clothes on, and I feel a pang of disappointment at being denied the honor of her naked body tonight.

Once we’re both under the covers, I reach over and drag her body gently so that she’s spooned against mine. She clutches my hand and pulls it closer to her chest, giving it a kiss.

I kiss the back of her neck, breathing in the same smell of the Paris perfume and her vanilla shampoo. I pull her closer to me, kissing her shoulder, her neck, and then landing my lips on her ear.

She grips my hand against her chest, and I can feel her heart beating. It’s hard and fast. I prop myself up on an elbow and roll her over to look at me, slowly moving a piece of golden hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear.

Her green eyes stare into me, this time with a softness that I like to think is love. I close my eyes and kiss her lightly on her lips. Her hands move up to my neck and she pulls me in for a deeper kiss.

I run my hands down her body, tracing every curve, and stopping a little longer over her stomach. Still latching onto my lips, she turns slightly and wraps her one leg over my waist, hooking it and holding me in place against her.

I know that my boner is now poking at her pelvis, and I feel her softly grinding against it. My hand is on her back, and I move it down to cup her ass cheek and pull her even closer to me. I feel her moan against my lips.

My fingers move to slip into the waist of her leggings and I start to pull them down. Emelia wiggles to help me, breaking away from the kiss to breathe.

I bury my face in her neck and then her chest as we work together to get her pants and underwear off. Then she moves her own fingers into the waistband of my boxers and tugs them down, ending up in a sitting position. I use this to my advantage and take her top off while she’s sitting up. She lays back down and smiles at me.

Still propped on my elbow, I trace my index finger from her perfect button nose, down her chin and neck, in between her breasts and all the way to her navel. I stop there and whisper, “You’re beautiful.”

Slowly I move my finger down to her clit and bring my mouth back down to hers. She moans again, biting down on my bottom lip.

She's so wet already, my finger barely needs to do much to warm her up, so I lift her leg up on my waist again and twist her until I slide my cock inside her, slower than ever before. As I enter, she pulls away from my kiss and moans loudly, giggling afterwards. I smile down at her and we hold onto each other, maintaining eye contact and moving our hips to the same rhythm.

Emelia moans again and arches her back. I hold onto her so that she doesn’t move too far back and I angle myself to go even deeper into her. She comes back up against my chest and I hold her tightly as I move faster, letting out a moan myself.

Emelia reaches under me and holds my balls firmly in her hand, my dick somehow manages to get even harder. I guide her right nipple into my mouth sucking tenderly flicking my tongue around the taut curves. My hand gropes her other tit, rolling it's hard nipple between my fingers as it waits for its turn to be sucked.

I can feel myself close to climax, and by the sound of Emelia’s breath so is she. I continue to thrust into her slowly, rhythmically. Riding our waves. “I’m… I’m…” She starts to whimper.

“Me too.” I growl.

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