Page 51 of Princess of the Mafia

A snail on a fucking siesta.

Slowly, her hand lifted, and she walked it over to mine. Bright pink nails on sexy fingers. She had the most beautiful pointy nails that I had ever seen. They were sharp and rounded at the edges and walked over to me like a ballerina on glass stilettos. When her fingers climbed my hand, it looked just like what it was. Fucking innocence on a monster. I was darker than her. Just like my soul was so many Pantone shades darker than hers. Still, I wasn’t planning on stopping those delicious fingers trailing the back of my hand, running up my arm like I was authentic, and evoking emotion in her. I wanted her to fucking breathe me in. She drew closer and halted just below my neck.

She bit her lip, indecision in her breath. My dick pulsed, and my hands twitched with impatience. I imagined what it would be like to fuck her against the desk. Hot air steamed off my skin.

Lazily, painstakingly, she wrapped her hands around the back of my neck and pulled me down for a whisper of a kiss. It was done before I could inhale. Impatience clogged my nerves, and I itched to pull her in and fucking imprint her with my taste. I shifted, ignored it out of sheer will, and let her be.

“So you like where I work?” I rasped.

“It’s better than your home.” She chuckled awkwardly.

Well, fuck me. I spent millions on my penthouse, and she liked this shit more. Talk about low maintenance.

“What’s wrong with my penthouse?”

“Too much bling. It’s cold, too.”

I frowned. It wasn’t cold. Why was she always cold?

“Maybe we should get you to a doctor. The apartment isn’t cold.”

“I mean, it feels cold, silly. All cold colors, cold materials.”

Yeah. I’d definitely married the weird one.

“You know I can’t show you all my work places, sì?”

She nodded gravely. “I know.”

“I can’t give you access to the videos, either.”

She followed my gaze to the camera. “I know.”

“I just want you to know where I am, Principessa. That you don’t think I am with another woman. Sì?”

She chewed on her lip, a frown on her forehead, and hands meddling with the little gold chain on her neck. “Do you have more places like this?”

I pulled her lip free. My dick couldn’t stand the torture she was giving it. “Some. I’ll show you every one of them.”

Her eyes glittered with something I couldn’t catch. “Thanks.”

“Yeah? I’ll make a deal. Every office I show you, you’ll give me a kiss.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“So I know you mean it when you say thank you. Besides…” I rubbed her bottom lip with my thumb. “You can leave your imprint on every office of mine.”

She laughed. The vibration pulled on my thumb.

“Typical for you made men.”

“What’s wrong with the Cosa Nostra?”

“Everything,” she bit out.

I squeezed her lips together. “Not all men are bad in the Cosa Nostra, and not all men are good outside it.” I pressed my lips to hers with a smack and let go. “Now, let’s go to my next office.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

---