Page 94 of Mob Princess

“All right.”

“Though I doubt this was the type of intimacy the doctor meant when she suggested alternatives.”

“I know. I can’t be as rambunctious as I’d normally be.”

I turn on the vibrator and reach beneath my cock to slide it into her. The little extension isn’t pressing against her clit. It’s against the thin strip between her pussy and arsehole. I have it on high. I only rock my hips as I pick up the crop. I bring it down medium hard. She clenches her arse. I groan. I do it over and over, alternating sides until her arse is bright pink. I twist the vibrator around, and immediately, she’s coming. Her arse clenches so tightly, it’s painful. But it sets me off. I toss aside the crop and use both hands to hold her arse to my pelvis.

“Fuuuuck.” I growl. I don’t know if I’ve ever made that exact sound before. Totally primal.

Neither of us moves as we pant. Then it hits me. I clench my jaw, refusing to let on that the surge of pain makes me want to vomit. I squeeze my eyes shut as I pull out and bring the vibrator with me. I’m sucking air in through my nose. I work to unfasten everything as I half kneel on the chair again. I feel the sweat on my forehead. It’s clammy now. She’s going to flip, and it’s going to ruin everything. I swallow the bile burning up my chest.

“Move around, little one. Are you in pain?”

She flips over. Immediately, her eyes widen. I thought I sounded normal.

“Fucking hell, Sean. Sit down. You’re nearly as pale as you were when you got shot.”

She’s gentle but firm as she pushes me onto the chair. She sweeps the back of her hand over my cheek before pressing it to my forehead.

“I’m fine. Really.”

“Bullshit. Stay here.”

She bolts across the room. I twist to see her sprint to the kitchen. She yanks open the fridge door and scans the contents. I know she’s looking for juice. She’ll have to move some leftovers out of the way. My fridge is full since I cooked a few days ago. I meal prep for the week. A regular Martha Stewart.

The door slams shut, and she’s running back to me. She didn’t even bother to search for a glass. She shoves the apple juice toward me after taking off the lid.

“All of it Sean. It doesn’t have the sugar orange juice does.”

I happily oblige because I’m parched. I guzzle it down and feel marginally better. While I do, she’s watching me, but she takes the vibrator and plug into the bathroom. I watch her set them on a stack of tissues she lays out next to the sink. She comes back to me and looks mildly relieved that I haven’t keeled over. She pulls back the sheet and comforter.

“Get in, Daddy. Do you want your sandwich? Would eating help?”

“Later. I’m fine, Lina. I promise.”

“Get in.” She’s not backing down.

“I like you fierce.”

“We’ll see.” She arranges pillows around me.

She didn’t bother trying to convince me I should sleep on the other side of the bed to keep weight off my right side. She knows I’ll always sleep closer to the door. She props my back up with the pillows and gets in beside me. She cradles my head on her shoulder like I did hers the last two nights in the hospital.

“Let me take care of you for a bit.”

My eyes drift closed. For the third time, I have that vision of her tied to a chair. This time, there’s no needle. She’s already dead.

Chapter Nineteen

Lina

The past month has been anticlimactic bliss. We’ve all been waiting for someone to make another move, but it’s been silent. I know Sean’s impatient to resolve this, but as far as I know, he and his family don’t know more than they did when we flew here from Boston. It’s been bliss because nothing’s taken Sean away. He spent the first week as a good patient.

Our sex life exists, but it was tame for the week after the first evening. The second week, we started getting rougher. A lot rougher. Sean still has limits to his endurance, but if this is him recuperating, I don’t know that I’ll survive him at full strength. He’s insatiable. But then again, so am I.

When he’s working on things that are safe for me to see, I often sit on his lap. I warm his cock, and I love knowing he’s not paying attention to me when all I want is to get off. At least, he pretends not to pay attention to me. When I shift to stay comfortable enough to remain on him, he groans. It makes him twitch inside me. I’ve given him blow jobs while he works at his desk or on the sofa.

Yesterday comes to mind, and I can’t help but sigh.

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