Page 58 of The Don's Deadly Assassin

"Tell me what you want, Camela," I growl, my lips brushing against her earlobe. "Tell me how you want me to take you."

"Harder, Vincenzo... please, don't hold back," she pleads, her voice coming out in ragged gasps. I oblige, our bodies slamming together with a ferocity that is as intoxicating as it is primal.

The room echoes with the sound of skin slapping against skin. Beads of sweat pool in Camela’s cleavage, on my temples.

I push her against the wall one last time, my hips snapping against her pussy like a piston. My hands grip her ass, my nails digging into her skin, leaving marks that will be there long after we're finished.

My cock slams into her over and over, my thrusts hard and relentless, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

"Camela, I'm close," I admit, gritting my teeth as I fight for control.

"Vincenzo, I'm... I'm going to come again," she moans, her voice strained and breathless. "Please, don't stop."

Her words are my undoing. With a final, desperate thrust, I bury myself deep within her, just as the muscles from her pussy tighten around my cock. I hold on to her with all my might, as her orgasm, and mine washes over us, my cock still resting in her.

I feel my cum drip down her legs, onto my thighs and only a minute later, after we enjoy being lost in the sensation, do I gently pull her away from the wall and help her feet to the ground.

"Camela," I whisper, my forehead resting against hers as we struggle to catch our breath. "That was... incredible."

"Si, Vincenzo," she agrees, her fingers tracing idle patterns along my back as she leans in for a hug. "There's nothing like it, is there?"

"No," I concede, knowing full well the truth of her words.

The scent of our lovemaking lingers in the air, a heady reminder of the intensity we've just shared. I can't help but smile as I watch Camela standing naked before me, her breasts heaving with each breath, her flushed cheeks, tousled hair and the satisfied glint in her eyes.

"Come on,” I suggest gently, taking her hand in mine and pointing to the couch. She leads the way and I watch her ass curve in a sultry walk. I haven’t seen a more womanly form.

I must have done something right to be able to call her mine.

Chapter 21

Camela

I wake up in the middle of the night. Did something wake me? I lie still for a while, listening to all the sounds around me, feeling whether there is any change in the movement of the air in the room.

My eyes search each window, the dim lights from the garden paths casting angular patterns against the tall walls.

After a while I relax from my alert state and realize my body is feeling out of place. The couch is too small for two people, and I'm practically lying on top of Vincenzo. I carefully slip out of his strong arms, trying not to disturb him.

His coat lies on the floor, and I reach for it, draping it around my shoulders to cover myself before I begin walking around the dimly lit living room.

It’s just the new surroundings. I’ll get used to it soon enough. My thoughts don't comfort me much as I pace through the room. My eyes are drawn to a photo on the wall, and I freeze as I notice the man in the picture with Vincenzo.

There's a sense of familiarity that washes over me, but I can't quite place it.

For a brief second, this unknown man draws me in. I rack my brain, trying to remember who he might be.

But it’s strange having to do this. In my line of work, I’ve been trained to remember every name and every face because forgetting means creating an opening for the enemy to take you by surprise. Yet his, I can’t place.

"Who is he? Why do I feel like I've seen him before?" I question internally, my curiosity piqued.

Maybe it's just my nerves playing tricks on me, I think to myself, desperately hoping that's all it is. And yet, I can’t seem to pry my eyes away from the photo.

Deep down, I know there must be more to it. I lean closer and observe the details of his face. The photo is in black and white, but I can see his floppy hair and the slight manner in which his jaw juts out.

I find more features, transfixed.

I blink, and suddenly, a memory flashes before my eyes. I see the man's face again, but this time, he's laughing at an unfamiliar dining table. The sound of his laughter echoes in my mind, filling me with warmth and leaving me confused.

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