Page 37 of Ruthless Mafia Daddy

“Zia, I have to get back to my chores.”

“Come and visit me soon, I am getting old.”

“You’re not even in your mid-fifties.” I chuckle.

“I’m Italian. My veins are filled with nothing but red wine and gluten.”

“Evidence of a life well lived, Zia.”

“Ti amo, bambina.”

As she hangs up the phone. I let out a long breath and sit in the silence for a moment, thinking about what my auntie and Cassi said.

Should I be putting myself out there more? I know Sam burned me, but at some point, I will need to move on.

Part of me wished I had never overheard Andre’s conversation so I could let myself live out the fantasy of him for a little longer.

Time to move. I still have some cleaning to do.

By the time I shower, pull on some fresh cotton underwear, and climb into bed, I’m exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before. I must’ve only managed two hours, tops, but given the expensive silk sheets and naked man beside me, it was the best two hours of sleep I’ve ever had.

“Stop it, Lila.”

Why does Andre De Luca live rent free in my head?

My skin pebbles at the memory of his calloused hands on my body, my back arching as I remember how well he filled me.

I’ve never felt anything like it.

I mean, I’ve had plenty of good sex, but Andre? Nothing compares, and I hate that he will now be the standard I hold every man that follows him.

“You get today, De Luca.” I let my fingers trail over my bare stomach. “But from the moment I wake up tomorrow, you’re permanently evicted from my brain.”

Now he’s got me talking to myself? What has happened to me…

My eyelids flutter closed as I imagine it’s Andre touching me. My fingers graze the underside of my breasts just as he did, flicking my thumb over my aching nipples as I fully embrace the memory of Andre.

It doesn’t take long before I’m slick between my thighs, and I’m panting as I start working my clit. It’s nothing compared to how Andre’s tongue felt as he explored my pussy but any form of release will do because I’m so worked up my eyes start to sting as my orgasm builds.

Soon, I’m thrusting a finger inside my dripping wet core, then another, and my hips are rolling as I ride my own hand.

“Fuck.” My free hand moves to palm my breast.

His name is on my lips as I let the phantom heat of his body on mine bring me to the edge. The strong, powerful weight of him as he hovered over me, his hips frantically moving as he thrust his cock inside me. The way he groaned as he spilled into me?—

My orgasm hits me, and I’m crying out as my body arches off the bed, a thin sheen of sweat covering my skin.

My thighs shake as wave after wave of glorious pleasure hits me, and I think of nothing but Andre as I continue to work myself until I’m completely spent.

“Now we’re done,” I say aloud.

My phone rings, snapping me out of my post-orgasm bliss, and I groan.

The only people who ever call me are Cassi, my aunt, or my boss. Seeing as I’ve spoken to two out of three today means I can’t ignore this call.

Cringing, hoping he can’t somehow sense what I’ve just done in my voice, I reach for my phone.

An unknown number? I frown

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